There’s a war going on between my breasts and my clothes–especially my shirts. I stepped in on behalf of my wardrobe, as General, but sadly I’ve been losing the battle since those little not so little bitches started budding at age nine (no amount of taping or squashing ever does the trick). By 13, they were full blown and last summer on one of my sporadic outings to the lingerie shop (one of only three places that carries my rare size), I discovered that the uncommon size–diagnosed in high school–that I initially thought was my rightful bra size turned out to be a different size; you guessed it–a higher and rarer letter. Thanks Mother Nature. Thanks Mom. *Side eye to genetics.
My frustration with large breasts (call them what you want–twins, tittays, sweater puppies, boobs, whatever) isn’t just in the fact that people stare at the wrong set of eyes (men and women) and make smart ass or lewd comments (depending on who it is) about what My Creator gave me, but with the fact that society seems to think that every woman with large boobs is an extremely large woman. My little back, which is a size 32, is no match for all the 40’s and up that seem to be available whenever bras for “bigger” girls are advertised (40I? For real though?). I won’t reveal the letter size of my boulder holders (but you’ve seen Tocarra and Esther Baxter right? Um, yeah…). My clothes are always (OK, not always but 98% of the time) distorted, especially button down shirts. I love button down shirts but guess what? I. Can’t. Wear. Them. In this breast-obsessed society, I can’t win! I once tried to buy a button down shirt in an XL (without my breasts that would have been a medium) but guess what happened? The shirt fit over my boobs but looked like a baggy upside down tent over the rest of my body. I went down a size and while the fit was slightly better, the girls still wanted to play peekaboo (You know that open button look? Not cute). Not being able to find small back–large bust friendly clothing amazes me considering all the Pam Andersons (and wannabes) out there.
But but wait it gets worse! There’s a company called Rebecca & Drew that makes shirts (especially button downs) according to bra size. One shirt costs $200 minimum. FOH! Even if I had a job I wouldn’t spend that on a cotton button down shirt! And so I continue to lose.
Alas, the battle isn’t just with button downs. I’ve had numerous incidents where I would try on a cute t-shirt but the message on the shirt gets distorted because the girls want to bulge out, or a dress that I couldn’t zip at the bust or…people’s dumb ass comments where they try to impart their “knowledge” on my shirt size–“Girl you need a 3XL, ha ha ha” [insert *blank stare here*].
I give up. A breast reduction is an option but you need money for that too. Plus, surgery is something to think long and seriously about.
And no, I don’t hate my breasts. (Hopefully you’re not missing that this is just a rant and I’m having a moment). We’ve had some great times together (getting free ish, not waiting in line for parties, etc) but I’m not with being Jessica Rabbit all the time and I’m really not with paying exorbitant amounts of money for my bras and barely having options of where to buy but I have no choice. It’s ridiculous what my bras cost and even more ridiculous that stores like Wal-Mart and Target refuse to carry my size! Bigger bra sizes to them are C and D (grrr!).
I can’t do anything about it (at least not now) so I’ve just learned how to deal and numb myself when I see certain shirts that I’ll never be able to wear. Don’t get it twisted, I love who I am. But I’m not happy with how much women like me are overlooked by clothing manufacturers, especially when having big boobs is all the rage. Or so I thought.
I appreciate my curves but keeping up this peace treaty with the twins (also known as Saturn and Jupiter) is hard. Women bigger than an A cup who want larger breasts are crazy. It aint’ cool to be an ironing board, but you don’t want to be the Rocky Mountains either. The grass is always greener I suppose.