The truth is, when I was young, a teenager flipping through the popular magazines at the time, I remember thinking “I want bigger boobs when I grow up”, now all I can say is be careful what you wish for.
I was petite all the way up to about 31 years of age, when like magic hormones hit me and shape adorned my body. I was lucky then as it only stuck to my hips and boobs, bringing that hourglass shape that supposedly was the shape to have. But it was like the boobs just wouldn’t stop growing, I was happy to stop at my new earned pair of C-cups. But alas my hormones had another plan.
The truth is, it seemed that every time I went to buy a new bra my boobs were bigger, “Yay” says the staff member in the fitting room not at all reading my face of panic with sweat protruding from every area possible. I’m a stylist and I love shopping, but not for bras solely for the reason that it is pure hell when you are slightly larger than a C-cup, that’s when straps start digging in, when underwire is needed to fight any sign of gravity. And when those cute leopard-printed bras start looking like an actual beast on the chase.
Ah and the days of wearing a low-cut backless top and just taping the fabric to my skin, allowing my little itty bitty young titties to fly free under the fabric of the top while gliding through the rooms of the Club Rex in my hometown Umeå: those days are well and truly gone.
Would I ditch the bra now, which has become a popular trend by the way, well these girls of mine would be dancing their dance, waving at any and every passerby, and not in that sexy carefree perky kind of way. Those days are gone, but not forgotten.
The truth about big boobs
I do believe that women who say they want boobs my size seriously believe they look exactly the way they look when in a bra, apparently, I even inspired someone when she was about to have her boob job, she told me she wanted ones like mine. Oh, sweetie, they were perfectly and strictly supported by my moulded cup t-shirt bra making them look smooth, perky and round. So it is all an illusion.
Then we have the sleeping situation, I am now a DD-E cup, however, this happened is beyond me?!? But it has and all my panic attacks in various fitting rooms remind me of this. Right, so I’m a side sleeper and with a larger chest that isn’t surgically enhanced this means when lying on my side they kind of just flop over onto each other, there is no way to sugar-coat this, and on occasion, this is fairly painful so I have found solutions to this, one is to simply place one arm between them and voila, support.
But this isn’t the greatest way to go, another is to place that little plush toy that you have had since you were five, admit it you have one, this can be placed as a support cushion between the boobs all the while keeping you safe from those monsters under the bed. But if you don’t have a plush toy there is an actual pillow that you can buy that’s solely made for this purpose, in pink satin of course. I am tempted.
Some of you would then say “Just sleep in a bra” OK well sure but if it’s an underwire bra I will be stabbed by the underwire in my sleep, I don’t want this. Then we have these cute bralettes, but for a larger chest, unless they’re tight like a sports bra, which I’m not keen to spend more time in than needed, they won’t keep the girls supported from the side flop anyway.
The second situation to mention is the lovely boob sweat, again I’m not going to sugar-coat this. The first thing I do when arriving home after a hot City of London day commute and all that is to take that sweaty bra off in the hopes of cooling the girls down, this can take a while, it’s almost like they have a little private hot flush of their own in celebration.
I then move over to sit down on my couch to watch TV or something and this is where a remarkable, not often spoken of, thing happens. To aid the boobs I will go on to fold in my t-shirt or top under the boobs, and I am not alone. This has on occasion been done simultaneously while on Facetime with my fellow chesty girl. Hilarious.
A third situation is wearing those cute halter neck bikinis while enjoying a beach day, this is a failsafe recipe for back and neck pain, all the while kind of creating this vulture neck posture situation. But then they need to be held up so this is a journey I don’t think I’ll ever figure out.
When buying button-up shirts, expect to have to go up significantly in size just so you’re not giving the buttons too much of a strain, if this was a fitted shirt it is no longer. This is something you’ll see on a lot of garments. To accommodate the girls you might have to size up. Running up and down stairs or just running full stop means you’ll have to hold your boobs to avoid them moving around like maracas which are quite painful I have to say.
But it’s not all bad I promise, I once heard a rumour that I had a boob job, this was fun as firstly apparently I looked wealthy enough for that but also I must be doing something right with my choice of bra, yay me. Secondly, I had a sibling photoshoot in Camden Market, one of those vintage things, we chose the gangster theme, and my brothers thought that would be a great gift for Mum.
I had to wear a corset. The faces of my brothers when I came out all pushed up was priceless, they don’t know what hit them. Because I normally don’t show these girls off, unless well for reasons brothers don’t need to hear. And lastly, some dresses fit like a pure dream and show off these puppies, this will make the knees weak on my beau any day, and that’s fun. Almost like a superpower.
I would like to end this with, careful what you wish for, you’re not alone, boobs are fun, think hard and long before having that Double E boob job. But most of all, all boobies are beautiful, small ones, big ones, uneven ones (they almost always are) my left is smaller than my right. There I said it. Who cares. Anyway, yay for boobs.
