By: Angela Gillaspie Copyright © September 2002

In my mind one small thing had the potential to change me from lukewarm to maybe tepid: a bustier bust. My husband argues that I'm going through a mid-life crisis, so call it whatever you want, at least I'm not going into hock for a Viper Red 1968 Pontiac GTO Convertible.

Sure, a breast enhancement job would be cheaper than a muscle car, but I don't have the guts to go under the knife. Also, padded bras frighten me. Many years ago, I wore one to a funeral and when I hugged someone, one of my padded supports caved in, rendering me the one-crunched-breasted-wonder. There wasn't an easy way to poke the collapsed cup back to normal without drawing unwanted attention, so I faked a crying fit, ran to the powder room, and revived my intimate indentation. Luckily, no one else wanted to hug me for the duration of the funerary service and there were no more breakdowns - foam or otherwise.

While getting a haircut, I complained about my lackluster appearance, and my hairdresser shared her secret for a full bouncy bust: a water bra. She said that the bottoms of the cups are pumped with the latest liquid technology, and they push you up, fill you out, and give you big cleavage.

Sold!

I looked all through Walmart's intimate apparel section, but they only had the molded foam bras. The kids weren't any help, either; the older two boys hid in the housecoat rack and my youngest kept squeezing the soft cups and yelling, "Boobie! Boobie!"

My best bet was on the Internet, so I visited the Victoria's Secret web site and found a convertible "liquid-filled technology" bra and placed my order. I wanted a convertible bra so that I could look perky in a tank top, halter-top, and in that black sequined spaghetti-strapped number that I planned on wearing to the reunion. Oh, and just so you know, I bought a Viper Red Convertible water bra, baby.

About a week later, a plain package arrived with my bountiful bogus bust. Sadly, there were no instructions, and buddy, I had some questions.

• What if they spring a leak? Is there a repair kit available? What about refills?
• What if I get hot, would the water turn to steam and expand? It sure does get hot down here in summertime.
• If I run, could I hurt myself? Would they make a sloshing sound when I run?
• Should I worry in electrical storms? Drying my hair? Operating heavy equipment? If they were made of rubber, would it offset the electricity conductivity?
• How would I wash them? Just squeegee them off?
• What about drying them in the drier? Would they explode?
• Would they freeze in the wintertime - could I have to defrost them in the microwave? Man, I'd have to think twice about wearing a water bra to a football bowl game in December. Brrr.
• Would I need to change the liquid after so many hours of wearing - kind of like changing the oil in my minivan? If so, do they sell little siphons?
• Could I put in anti-freeze in the wintertime?

Fearful and excited at the same time, I held the bra and squished the cups - it reminded me of Jell-O in a plastic baggie. Next, I slipped it on and I had cleavage!

I pulled on my black sequined spaghetti-strapped dress, put my hands on my hips, and examined my new physique in the mirror. My bust looked higher than normal, but hey, it was bigger! I jumped and my counterfeit chest bounced, I twisted and my fluid-filled top swayed, and I pulled my dress tight, and my liquid padding didn't cave in.

I wouldn't say that this bra made me look HOT, but I definitely was on the warm side of tepid. I grinned at my new purchase. Not only did the liquid-filled technology enhance my figure - I'd be safe in a fire! Momma Jugs had a whole new meaning, now!

Showing off my new look, I gave my husband a great big hug and heard the same sound that Aunt Polly makes when she slides off her vinyl couch. "Gross, what'd you eat?" he asked.

Yikes. I could always cough or something when I hugged someone.

Also, I noticed the longer I wore this bra, the higher my chest migrated. It wasn't long until I was almost eye-to-cleavage with myself.

Hmm, I'd better stick to my regular non-padded support and only take my Viper Red Convertible out for short non-hugging trips. It would be awful shoving my bosom to the side so that I could talk, or worse to worry that someone might think I sprung a leak when they hugged me too tight.