Blasts from the Past

NOTE: This was from another prompt of the Red Dress Club; we were supposed to write about finding a forgotten item in the back of our closet. I wrote in my notebook, and then promptly forgot about it. Seems a shame to waste it, so here it is.

I found a tiny piece of fabric on the floor underneath a box in the back of my closet the other day. I picked it up, thinking that it was something that had fallen from a dress. Then I felt the tell tale signs of an underwire. I looked closer. It was a black lace demi-bra. So tiny! I checked the size: 34A. I was momentarily taken aback. Was this MY bra? I cannot at first recall the last time I wore a size 34 bra, let alone an A cup.

Then it came to me, the memory of a perfect dress of formfitting black lace with the perfect black lace bra, panties, garter, and stockings to go with it. A night, so very long ago, when I looked exceptionally hot and knew it down to my bones. A night of confidence, when I didn't worry about whether I had something green on my teeth or whether my thighs were too fat. A night of dancing, laughter, and fun with my friends. Good times, I recall, and smile to myself. I pause. I cannot remember my date for that perfect evening, and as he was so easily forgotten, he must not have been all that wonderful.

I should have put the bra in with the clothes earmarked for Goodwill. I had every intention of doing so, of letting go of the distant past. But somehow the tiny bra stayed in my hand, and was lovingly put into the lingerie drawer. The dress is gone, but the bra shall remain, since it triggered such fond remembrance. Happy memories are like gold, and on my more melancholy days, I find that I have a need to remember the 'transgressions' of my youth, however incomplete those memories might be.