An Ode to the Camisole

I have discovered the beauty of the camisole. Perhaps to some of you, that’s old news, but I am a latecomer to this particular fashion trend. It’s probably on its way out now; that’s usually the case when I finally latch onto something even remotely trendy.

I’m a teacher. I must not display the contents of my shelf in public, especially as the aforementioned shelf is beginning to get that old-lady, finely wrinkled skin look. Yuck. Yet many of the cute shirts I buy have a “deep V” to elongate my short torso, per my instructions from Clinton and Stacey. Deep V equals cleavage display. It was a conundrum until my breakthrough discovery.

The longer camisoles that are currently popular allowed the miracle of the camisole to continue in another way. Not only does this handy little stretch garment cover up inappropriate display of the girls, it also manages to bridge the gap between my shirts and that awkward bump of fat that I still have twenty-five years after my second Cesarean section. Even in a relatively slim trouser or jean, the camisole helps to hide that nasty line of demarcation. I could kick myself for spending hours and hours searching for the right-fitting trousers when all I needed was a six-dollar camisole on sale at Lane Bryant.

Photo via Zappos.com

So, my friends, if you haven’t gotten on this particular bandwagon, run to the store to buy some of these fashion lifesavers. The horizontal lace-trimmed ones provide more girl-coverage, but the V-neck lace camisoles are pretty nice, too. Surprisingly, for a person who is on the flip side of youth and sometimes gets those awkward flashes of heat, the added layer of the camisole doesn’t seem to make me hotter.

Or maybe knowing that I have that little sexy thang on under my staid teacher shirt makes me hot after all. Either way, it’s still a miracle.

P.S. Thanks for hanging in there with me. It’s been a dry spot for writing, but I’ve returned from my spring vacation full of new ideas that hopefully will transfer into something worth reading!

P.P.S. Don’t tell anyone that I bought eight new camisoles. It seems a little obsessive, but I couldn’t resist all those pretty colors.

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