Day Four: Boobs

My boobs were bigger than my son’s entire head. And this is when they were ‘smaller.’

Note: This post is about breasts.

America. Land of the free and the home of the uniboob.  And double boob. And under boob. And side boob. And back rolls caused by ill-fitting bra straps.

Because American bra-makers (if there is such a thing- it’s probably more like American bra-decision makers) seem to think A through D cup is enough. And if that’s not working for you, just go up in inches. Spilling out of a 36D? You’re probably just a 38D in disguise!

These bra-decision makers sit in their ivory towers,  and most of them are probably men. The women who ARE there have worked hard, so they probably don’t have time to eat and are resting comfortably on their thrones in teeny tiny sexy lacey bras; sensible B cups.

But down here in the real world, boobs don’t stop at D. And for some of us, not even DDD.

Not me.

I’m picking on America for a reason. I worked at a lingerie chain in Scotland as a holiday temp one year, and I fitted many women’s bras. It was very common for a woman to be a 34E or a 36F. This main stream lingerie brand, known to every Britain I’m sure, didn’t hide their higher cups on a shelf of shame.  The Es, the Fs, the Gs…they were all right there, with the cute bras!  In every single size!

And every single Scottish co-worker said to me, “Americans are terrible with their bra sizes! They’re all in the wrong size!”

I quickly learned this was true.

So what’s a girl to do? There’s a lovely shop in Edinburgh which carries bras AND clothes for the large busted woman. It’s amazing. But now I’m wandering like a lost sheep through bra sections in American shops and I’m coming up empty handed.

Just this week I went to a store which should specialize in selling to larger chested women. The highest size I found was DDD, so I tried on a ton of styles hoping one would fit. No luck.

Finally the saleswoman pointed me to the little shelf in the corner which sold F-H cups. I was running late at that point, so I grabbed two in a cup size F and went home.

They’re still too small!

I may truly just be a freak of nature. I’ve always had super large breasts. But now not even an ‘F’ fits me and I have to imagine if I lost weight my cup size may go down as well.

I(nterestingly, the smallest my boobs have ever been is the year I was breastfeeding. I loved it! They were so…manageable. To me. It’s all about perspective, I suppose.  But I prayed to be one of those women whose boobs changed forever after childbirth.

Well, they certainly aren’t as perky, so that change remained.

But as soon as I stopped nursing, they got bigger again! I asked my doctor, who just shrugged and said ‘Yep.’

So. If there’s one thing I’m really looking forward to with losing weight, it’s being able to fit nicely into a bra. It’s being able to wear shirts that don’t automatically show cleavage,  even when they aren’t designed to. It will be the luxury of being able to bend over without worrying about who is seeing what.

Not that it should really matter.  Breasts are wonderful. And for now the only solution is to start wearing turtlenecks, and I don’t think I’m quite ready for that.