For Women Who Want More Lift, More Laughs, and More Canada
Hi, I’m Brigitte — a Canadian entrepreneur, stand-up comic, background actor and professional supporter of women (literally and figuratively). I’ve been fitting sports bras for over 25 years, and when I’m not helping women feel more supported, I’m on stage telling stories through Women Wit & Wisdom or hosting Women Talk, a storytelling community where women share real life, real laughs, and real truth. The Booby Gazette is where all of that comes together — humour, honesty, bodies, aging, life, and the occasional rant — written for women who like their support practical and their laughs well-earned. If that sounds like you, welcome. You’re in the right place.
BRIGITTE'S BOOBY GAZETTE'S BLOGS
Brigitte Lessard-Bra shares her 3 favourite bras for Canadian summers: the Rosa Faia Twin Soft, DynamiX Star and Air Control for comfort, support and staying cool.
Discover Brigitte’s top 7 sports bras for hot weather in Canada. Breathable, supportive bras that help reduce sweat and bounce.
The story of the first sports bra—how two women turned jockstraps into a game-changing invention that gave women real support, freedom, and confidence.
Tonight we spring forward, which means we lose an hour of sleep… but here’s the good news: a great sports bra never loses support. While the clocks jump ahead, the girls should stay right where they belong, proudly parked at 10 and 2 like a well-behaved Canadian compass. Because daylight saving time may move the clock, but a proper sports bra makes sure nothing else shifts south. ⏰💗 Since we’re talking about spring, let’s talk about our wonderfully unpredictable Canadian springs. One day y ou’re jogging in sunshine thinking summer has arrived… the next day you’re digging your gloves out of your jacket pocket because a cold wind has decided winter wasn’t quite finished yet. ❄️🌤️
Valentine’s Day has a certain energy. 💘 It’s part romance, part expectation, part “why is everything pink and shaped like a heart, including things that absolutely should not be heart-shaped?” And somehow, right around the same time, the Olympics roll in and remind us that women are capable of things that make gravity look negotiable. 🏅 So here we are. Surrounded by love stories and gold-medal moments… while many of us are trying to do a workout in a sports bra that’s holding on by thoughts, prayers, and an elastic band from 2014. 😅 And that’s when it hits me every year: love and sport actually have one big thing in common. The right support changes everything.
Feeling the January blues? This funny winter checklist covers classic symptoms, cozy fixes, and why support (yes, bras too) matters in January.
Every year, like clockwork, Canadians divide into two passionate camps: Camp WAIT UNTIL DECEMBER, YOU MONSTER and Camp LIGHT IT UP, BABY, IT’S NOVEMBER 3RD. And then… there’s me. I put mine up the first week of November! Yes, seven days before many believe “the season has officially begun,” and I regret absolutely nothing. Because honestly? The moment the tree lit up, my whole living room felt warmer, happier, and more peaceful — kind of like slipping into a perfectly supportive bra after wearing the wrong one for years. Because as soon as the girls stop bouncing, you power up like the NYC tree on lighting day — boom, instant confidence, and ready to sprint through Times Square like a woman on a mission!
Goodbye summer of 2025—you were short, sweet, and just supportive enough to lift us higher than we thought possible.
Fall has always been a shifting season for me—kind of like my bra drawer, constantly evolving, never quite the same from one decade to the next.
🏓 Could Sports Be the Holy Grail of Youth? (Or Just the Best Excuse to Wear a Bra That Could Double as Body Armor?) Let’s talk about aging. Not the “wine gets better” kind — the “why did I just pull a muscle putting on socks” kind. When I turned 60 this year, I had a moment. Not a crisis — more like a WTF whisper from the universe: “Hey, remember when you used to be competitive, athletic, fierce?” Yeah. I remembered. Vividly. I was an athlete. Hockey, tennis, soccer, fastball — I didn’t just play sports in my 20s, 30s, and early 40s. I competed. I trained. I had calves that could crack walnuts and a confidence that could crack glass ceilings. Then came: 💍 Marriage 👶 Kids 🦠 A pandemic 💔 A divorce (Yes, I collected the full set of adulting milestones.) And somewhere in the shuffle… I stopped playing. 🥒 But Then… Pickleball. Yes, pickleball. The name is ridiculous. The game is revolutionary. It’s like tennis and ping pong had a baby — and that baby saved my life. I started playing. Then I started loving it. Pickleball reignited something in me. It got me moving, sweating, laughing, trash-talking, and yes — feeling young again. Not “I’m 25 and invincible” young, but “I’ve survived some serious sh*t and still look good in a skort” young. Recently, I played with a mother-daughter duo — the mom was 89 years old and absolutely crushing it on the court. She had style, sass, and a killer forehand. And I thought: If this is what aging can look like... SIGN. ME. UP.
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