By Barbara Falconer Newhall
Trying on bras at Nordstrom the other day, the truth was all too apparent. Too much flesh here. Too much skin there. Some of it fit into the bra. A lot of it didn’t. I felt terrible about my body.
Lucky for my body image, however, I went straight from lingerie shopping to my Zumba class. A few warm-ups here, a few stretches there, a little grapevine, and I was feeling great. So was my body. It reminded me that it can jump. It can move with the beat. It can cumbia. And yes, those hips can wiggle.
For a more extensive treatment of my relationship with my undergarments, see my Mad Men girdle story.