Cause of Injury - Friendly Fire!

This morning at 5:30, I was out walking the dogs through the park. It was one of those lovely mornings where everything was quiet and peaceful. There was just the slightest breeze, the temperature was wonderful, and the dogs were having the time of their lives sniffing everything in sight.

And then, out of nowhere, a loud POP!

I heard it, the dogs heard it, and I FELT it. I had been hit!

Now, it wasn't quite a gunshot. It didn't really sound like a BB gun either, but something had clearly hit me.

The dogs were startled and looking around, and I'm standing there trying to figure out what in the world just happened. Had somebody shot something at me? Was there someone hiding in the bushes? What on earth?

I checked myself over. Nothing obvious. I was fine.

So we finished our walk and went home.

Fast forward to getting ready for my shower, and much to my shock...I was bleeding!!!

My left underwire had snapped. Not only had it snapped, but it had ripped right through the fabric of my bra and punctured my skin.

Y'all. My BRA shot me.

Now, I have some questions.

How is it that we are living in the year 2026, and we are still wearing undergarments that can actually wound us?

We have made some pretty remarkable advances in technology, medicine, engineering, and just about everything else, but apparently designing a comfortable, supportive bra that doesn't require a blacksmith is still beyond our capabilities.

And yes, before anybody suggests it, I've tried all those bras that claim to offer wonderful support without an underwire. They just don't cut it. I appreciate the effort, but the girls need a little more structural engineering than a stretchy piece of fabric can provide. Surely there's a way to accomplish that without the equivalent of sewing a broadsword into my undergarments!

I don't think that's asking too much.

And since I'm already on my soapbox, let's talk about underwear.

Can we please make underwear that is cool, comfortable, stays where it's supposed to stay, and doesn't spend the entire day flossing our hineys?

I don't want to tug at it. I don't want to adjust it. I don't want to spend half my day wondering how a perfectly reasonable piece of fabric managed to disappear into places it was never invited.

I just want to put my underwear on in the morning and not have to think about it again until I take it off that night.

And shoes. Good grief, the shoes.

I love a pretty pair of shoes as much as anybody. I love getting dressed up, and I think a beautiful shoe can absolutely make an outfit.

But why in the world do we still think women need to teeter around on what amounts to a pair of six-inch decorative stilts just to look feminine or put together?

Give me a flat. Give me a one-inch heel. I'll even go two inches if we're feeling fancy.

But for heaven's sake, can somebody make them attractive AND supportive?

I would like to make it through the day without my arches screaming, my toes being crammed into a space clearly designed for fewer toes than I actually have, or developing corns, blisters, and nerve problems just because I wanted to look nice.

And please don't tell me my only alternative is a pair of shoes that look like they came from the orthopedic department of a medical supply store.

Surely there's some middle ground here.

Here's the thing. I love being a woman. I love pretty clothes. I love being groomed and looking nice. I love feeling feminine and put together.

I'm not asking to throw all of that out the window.

I'm just wondering why, in 2026, we haven't figured out how to do all of those things without being miserable or, in my case this morning, actually drawing blood.

I don't need my bra to double as a weapon. I don't need my underwear to perform dental hygiene on my backside. And I certainly don't need my shoes to leave me limping by the end of the day.

I just want to be comfortable and look nice.

Is that really such an unreasonable request?

And now that I've finished ranting about women's clothing, don't even get me started on men's.

Cargo pants. Cargo shorts.

Y'all, can we just admit what those really are?

PURSE PANTS.

Men have been making fun of women for carrying purses for years, all while walking around with six pockets stuffed full of everything but the kitchen sink.

Sir, you're carrying a purse. You've just divided it up and strapped it to your thighs.

And somehow, THAT'S considered practical.

Anyway, back to my morning.

I survived my walk. The dogs are fine. And I was betrayed by the garment closest to my heart..

I'm not saying my bra tried to kill me this morning, but I'm also not entirely convinced it wasn't.

Ladies, we deserve better.