So, let’s talk about bras (ok, and my breasts) for a moment.
I am, luckily, one of those chubby girls who is proportioned well – the waist/stomach is smaller than the breasts. This is a good thing, for the most part.
But, well, here’s the issue. I just bought a couple new bras. In this particular style, I had to buy a larger cup size. Let me just tell you now that I believe the girls are officially of stripper proportions – I had to buy a size F. That would be the one bigger than DDD.
Oh, for the love of… Can you imagine how huge they’d be if I ever got pregnant? I don’t need them to get bigger! I have a hard enough time finding bras in the first place! Don’t even get me started on how much I have to pay for a good bra. You can not find bras in my size at Target. In fact, it’s hard to find them in general. Because most women aren’t carting around a couple large melons on their chest.
They’ve always been large, even when I was younger and
less chubby smaller. There was no for a training bra, I’m pretty sure I started out in at least B-cup. About a year ago, I actually went to Ann’s Bra Shop and got fitted. I found out I was wearing something much too big band-wise. Once I fixed that, it’s amazing how much better everything fit. Even if it was fitting in a DDD-cup.
Now, the new bras. They are a bit problematic. I have a few in the smaller cup-size, same band size, but they just didn’t quite work right. Okay, okay, I kept overflowing. But when I wasn’t overflowing, it’s a fantastic bra. So I got a couple in the next size up thinking that would be fine – one minor difference, it’s a bit wider ’round the ribcage. And that one-hooks worth of width renders me unable to breathe when i wear them. So, last night I got an extender to keep the girls contained until this one stretches out some. It seems to be working well so far.
Look at that. Day 29 and I’ve resorted to telling you entirely too much about my breasts.
Holiday Song of the Day: Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) – U2