I thought maybe when I finally decided to update my blog once again, it might be about something deep or important, but this is me we’re dealing with, so… really. Boobs. Of course.
So, okay. I have boobs. Two of them. I’m mostly indifferent to them, because I’ve had them since I was 10, which means that I’ve been lugging them around for 20 years, and at this point, my attitude is that, well, whatever. They’re there. Despite the fact that I had to start wearing a training bra when I was in the 5th grade, I never really was a particularly large-chested girl. I wasn’t flat-chested either, just kinda… in between. Even though in most ways, I was done growing by the time I was 13 or 14 (I hit my permanent height of 5’6″ in eighth grade or maybe the beginning of 9th grade and never grew another inch), my boobs have experienced a few unexpected growth spurts since then.
I don’t really know what this is all about. It happened twice while I was in my 20s, and I thought it was a little weird, but then discovered that this apparently happens sometimes independent of weight gain or anything, just waking up and noticing that “Ta-da! My rack is bigger!” Pretty much. And it wasn’t really that big of a deal, because mostly the changes were subtle, although by the time I’d gone through the second spontaneous boob embiggening, I had gone up an entire cup size. So I started my 20s at one size and ended them at another. Fine, boobs, if that’s the way you want it to be, then okay, sure.
Having thought of my 20s as Puberty 2: Electric Boogaloo, I figure that this is okay and probably happens to several people and I dealt with it and bought new bras last summer and everything was fine. But I’m 30 now, so my 20s are happily a thing of the past. And because I’ve been 30 for six whole months now, I’m a pro at being 30, and I figured perhaps now I am entering the phase of my life when I could stop worrying about things like my boobs spontaneously getting bigger, because while I understand that our bodies change until we die, don’t we ever just get to settle in a little bit? I thought perhaps. But then, this past week happened. And if this past week were to have a theme, it would be OH FUCKING HELL. And I can deal with all of that okay because life has turned me into a tough broad, but on top of everything else, I really didn’t need all of my bras to be suddenly and uncomfortably too small. I mean, cut me a little slack, life. Okay?
So, it’s not like wearing a bra is that great anyway, and I don’t know about anyone else, but that moment at the end of the day when I can finally take the damn thing off is probably the best thing about wearing a bra. But wearing a bra that’s too small is a singularly uncomfortable experience, one that seems to involve a lot of squirming and adjusting all day long. I got a few hours into my Monday, and thought to myself “I wonder if I accidentally shrank (shrunk?) this when I washed it.” It seemed to be a reasonable possibility. And I could deal with it for a day. But then on Tuesday, different bra, same problem. And I KNEW that one didn’t go into the dryer, so I thought “Really? Again?” And finally, on Friday, after sneaking off to the bathroom to readjust the girls, I thought “Huh.” (And I also looked at myself in the mirror and thought, “This sweater makes my boobs look fantastic.”) (And then I readjusted the bra again and thought, “I wish this bra didn’t have to be such a jerk.”) (And then I thought maybe it was time to leave the bathroom.)
Basically the point is that I was in need of some new bras.
I hate bra shopping. Though does anybody really enjoy bra shopping? It’s such an annoying chore, especially if you dare to look for something specific. Like, okay. I just wanted a plain black bra. I didn’t want anything too fancy because I like to be able to wear bras under knits without the lumps or bumps or fuss that basically announce to the world, “Hello! My breasts are covered in ribbons!” Simple. I am a fan of simple. I mean, I understand that there are times for fancy underwear, but most of the time is not one of those times. So why is it so hard to find a simple black bra that isn’t an old lady bra but also doesn’t have those micro-thin straps that dig into the shoulders? WHY? And why are they all padded now? People. I do not need a padded bra. It’s not like I have an enormous rack, because I don’t, but, um, it’s… it’s… substantial enough on its own without additional padding, okay? I can’t wear turtlenecks all year long, and already, anytime I wear anything with a scoop neck or a V-neck, I have to wear a camisole, because basically, the height difference between my desk at work and anyone over 4 feet tall who might approach it is such that whoever does approach it and might be so inclined basically gets a free view down my shirt. And really, I’ve already had enough of weirdo crazy guys looking at my boobs in my dating life, so I don’t need it in my professional life too.
So anyway, I hate bra shopping and I try to avoid it as much as possible, but there are times when it is necessary. Like now. I have a hard time with it, because I always have in mind what I’m looking for and then I have to be horribly disappointed by the fact that what I’m looking for doesn’t exist. Things are always too fussy or the wrong color or padded, and then when I finally find something that might work, it’s always the wrong size, though I’m sure 8th grade me would’ve appreciated the large selection of B-cups. It’s just a neverending string of frustrations, all to find something supportive and not horrible. Which also sounds a bit like dating, come to think of it.
All that written, my latest foray into bra shopping has a happy ending, and now all I need is for my boobs to stay the same size. I’m not pregnant (and have no intention of ever being pregnant, either) and I’m not gaining weight, and even though sometimes before my period starts I tend to retain water as though water retention were an Olympic sport and I was going for the gold, I don’t think I retain all that water in my boobs, so it should be fine, right? Or should I expect this to continue happening on a sporadic basis until I can’t stand upright?
I’m turning to you with these important questions, Internet, because you know everything.
So in case you’ve been wondering, that’s what’s been going on with me: spontaneous boob growth and subsequent frustration. I hope you and your racks are fantastic.
12 thoughts on “now with more boobs”
As you know, I only come here for the cleavage talk. You knew this, right? Well, now you do, either way.
I really have nothing to add except that the spontaneous growth of ‘equipment’ with age is something that sadly does not afflict men. Even if it did, I doubt it would require extra trips to the underwear section of a department store. Unless the man in question is prone to sporting a ‘banana hammock’, in which case a growth spurt (poor choice of word there, I suppose) would probably require a new ‘hammock’ for the aforementioned ‘banana’, but otherwise, no. Hmmm. Not sure where I was going with this. Good talk, anyhow. Yay boobs.
I just want to point out that water retention will never be an Olympic sport because men aren’t any good at it.
I think it’s hilarious that the first two posters were men.
Anyway, my changes sadly have had direct impact due to weight gain. (Which means when I lose the weight I’m sure they will also become scarce.)
This discussion makes me wonder though if medications or foods would have impact on this.
hey Jamelah, next time you have to buy a bra, try barenecessities.com – free returns and lots of styles. As a woman of copious boobs, I shop there alot.
I feel your pain.
Hey wife, womens has boobs.
I need to buy new bras, too, but I need to get smaller ones because my boobs have shrunk. I have shrunk about 15 pounds along with the boobs. Damnit bra shopping. I agree with you; it sucks. Plus I need to get measured this time since I dont really know what size I am anymore.
I don’t know if they have them in your city or not, but try Intimacy. Their stuff is WONDERFUL and almost all European which means they’re made better and actually are pretty. If there isn’t an Intimacy in your city, Nordstrom has some European brands that are much more uplifting than their American counterparts.
At least it’s not your nose!
(Also, I’m a random stranger reading/commenting on your blog. I hope this is acceptable)
I remember hearing something at one point on TV where they were doing a segment on bras and the women was commenting that most women have never had a proper fitting for a brassiere and consequently often buy bras that are the wrong size.
Not that it addresses your specific issue but since you are having this problem it might be a good time to go to the local Neiman Marcus (or whatever really nice, high end department store with a decent women’s department is near you) and get a proper fitting.
I used to buy the ex’s stuff through Victoria’s secret and one thing I was amazed by is just how expensive the damn things are!
BOOBS, I has them. What I do is find a particular brand and style number (or several) that you like, get fitted (embarrassing but it makes a huge difference) at someplace like Macy’s (Victoria’s Secret apparently uses their own measurement system). Then I go online and find that bra brand/style number (might I recommend Bali #3062?) somewhere like Amazon or Onehanesplace.com, and order a shit-ton in different colors.
Now, why they sell padded-bras in big-boob sizes, I have NO IDEA.
I think your boobs are frustrated. They keep sending me angry text messages in the middle of the night. What I’m saying is I think your boobs are sleep walking. It’s quite common.