Every so often my sisters and I will ring each other and the conversation will go like this:

Kate: “Hi, it’s me. I’m so fat.”

Me: “Yeah, I’m so fat too.”

Kate: “Janey says she’s fat too.”

Anyway, that time has come around once again – we are simultaneously vast.

OK, we’re not Biggest Loser vast. But we’re carrying way more lard than we should be. And thanks to a genetic SNAFU, that lard resides in our arse-al region. Not to put too fine a point on it, we are “broad of beam”.

We workshopped the situation last week, and looked into what it was, for each of us, that made us actually go “geez I’m fat”.

• For me, it was when MY PYJAMAS GOT TOO TIGHT. Fairly certain I am the first person in the world that has happened to.
• For Janey, it was when the only thing that would fit her were sunglasses.
• And for Kate it was when she noticed her jeans were too short because the bum needed to “borrow” denim from the the legs.

Clearly it was time to take some affirmative action. But for fun (and because we couldn’t agree) we each decided to use a different method to shed the poundage.

I have chosen Weight Watchers. Kate is going with the Women’s Weekly 21 Day Wonder Diet, and Janey is ordering up a Lite ‘n Easy storm.

We have each had success in the past with our respective choices, so we are going with what we know.

Today actually marks a week since I re-joined Weight Watchers, and I am totally up myself to report that I have lost 2.3kg. Evidently this whole not-eating-so-much thing works pretty effectively. I’m nowhere near ready to put away the Nancy Gantz Pants just yet, but it looks like I’m on the way.

Kate is on holidays up the Coast, so I have yet to hear how she’s going, although it was considerate of the French Patisserie near our beach house to close for a month to help Kate in her weight loss mission. No croissants for her.

Janey is blessed with a bod that might be short, but which sheds kilos toot sweet once she gets started. Also, after 3 years living in Las Vegas, she has a wardrobe full of hot  fashions, with only two currently on high rotation. I predict she’ll be the one to beat as the contest hots up.

I know I should be posting before photos, but no. Just no.

Instead, I will post a couple of pics of when we looked hot. Hot-ish. Well, not fat. You choose.

Vegas, baby

The booties were because we were on the Skywalk @ The Grand Canyon - not because we are fashion-challenged

My plan is to post regularly with the results of our endeavours. I may even post “after” photos.

Have you had success with any of our methods? Have you ever been on a weight loss mission with family members?

The anticipation has been exhausting, but my Genie Bras finally arrived on Friday.

The interest in my infomercial-based purchase was so high that in the spirit of community service, I have agreed to provide an in-depth review of the Genie Bra.

At this point I should stress that this is not a sponsored post. I’ve always wanted to say that. Actually, I’ve always wanted to say “This is a sponsored post”, because it is my understanding that that would mean I was paid for it.

I’ve been asked why I went with the Genie Bra, rather than the Ahh Bra. This is an excellent question. I spent an inordinate amount of time on the interweb looking for reasons to choose one over the other. The upshot of this was that I went with the one that was easier to order, and which had a slightly less stupid name. Totally scientific.

Anyhoo, I will begin this review by addressing a couple of the incisive questions posed by Twitter followers.

How do they look off?

Shithouse. Seriously, if ugly was a country, then the Genie Bra would be China. But in fairness to the Genie Bra designer, I wasn’t expecting it to give Simone Perele a run for its money.

The Genie Bra is spectacularly unsexy. No need for any form of contraception if you wear the Genie Bra in the boudoir. It is more an item of body furniture than undergarment.

Hot as

I should point out that in the photo above, the “beige” (and isn’t that the most appropriate word EVER) example has the “free extra support pads” in the “specially designed magic pouches”. I can safely say I won’t be using the extra support pads, and I think the designers may have been high when they decided to use the term “magic pouches”.

Is the Genie Bra for bigger breasted women only?

In my expert opinion, nope. Admittedly though, if you are challenged in the area of rib-bumpers, a Genie Bra would look more like a t-shirt. A cropped one.

On the other hand, if you have a massive rack, I’m not sure it’d give you the haulage you’d be after.

I am – according to the professional bosom lady at David Jones – a 14D (which explained why my collection of 12B bras never felt quite right). Google tells me that the average Australian bra size is 14C, from which I will draw the totally scientific assumption that if you are anywhere between a 12B and a 16C, the Genie Bra would hold its own – and yours.

Other Observations

• I am a bit disappointed by the amount of upper-torso real estate taken up by the Genie Bra. To be fair, if you’re looking for a bra that’ll hold up your badoinkies without underwires or hooks, it’s going to need more than a wisp of elasticised chiffon in the formula. But I have to say, there’s a crapload of fabric on the back, which makes it look more like a post-surgery garment than lingerie.
  

  The Rear View

• I give it 8 out 10 for comfort. I am one of those girls who whips off my bra the minute I walk through the door. My issue is usually with the band under the brassiere, which goes around the ribs. I don’t think there is a technical term for that component – although interestingly, the bit between the chesticle cups is called the “gore”. Who knew?

  After wearing the Genie Bra for a few days now, I am saddened to report that I am still experiencing some discomfort in the aforementioned under-bra-around-ribs-area (I wish there was a technical term for it). However, I am prepared to concede that this may be due to the design of my mid-region (also my Big Mac habit) than the design of the Genie Bra.

  Whilst the shoulder straps aren’t padded with cashmere, they are comfy enough. I don’t reckon they’re any more or less comfortable than any of the other bras I’ve worn, but it’s not something I’ve generally had a problem with.

•  The other big question – aside from comfort – is how effective the Genie Bra is at harnessing one’s tatas. And I am happy to report that it is doing a deadset ripper job. When wearing the Genie Bra, I am confident that I can go about my daily business and the girls aren’t going anywhere they shouldn’t be. They are well contained, adequately rounded, and most importantly, perpendicular to the rest of me.
• Value for money? I paid $89.91 (yeah, I know) for 3 Genie Bras (black, beige and white). Were they a bargain at $29.97 (FFS) each? Nup. But not a ripoff either. I’ve paid way more for bras that I pull off through my sleeves at the earliest opportunity.  Plus they were delivered, so that whole hellish bra-trying-on thing is neatly avoided.

At this point, you’re probably going “Photos! We were promised photos!” Well, ask and you shall receive.

Wonder if Zoo will call?

To summarise – the Genie Bra is more or less what I expected. More ugly than I expected. Slightly less comfortable than I expected. But it does do its job, meaning I don’t have to think about whether everything is where it should be.  Leaving me free to worry about whether my underpants are up to the job.