Boobs

Hello, boobs. *waves to boobs*

OK, what is up with you, boobs?

I thought I knew you two. I thought we were pals. I didn’t realise that things were open to negotiation. What is this changing size business? Do you know how expensive bras are? I can’t be buying new ones every few months, and the cheap ones are just, er, cheap. And make you look all squished and crumpled. Like a couple of old socks at the bottom of the washing basket.

So when you shrink a bit, and my bras get all gaping and slack, how do you think this makes me feel? A bit rubbish, that’s what. I like being a C cup. Don’t make me be a B cup. Don’t downgrade me. I’ve been an A for most of my life, then being preggo was great cos FINALLY, you were BOOBS – hubba hubba, jiggle jiggle, hoopla – now… what?

The golden age of 36C is coming to an end? The reign of B cup is nigh? B cup, the snivelly, try-hard cousin of C? Like a usurping pair of comedy kings, all droop and rogue hairs, and one slightly bigger than the other, FFS?

I almost can’t face going to get measured, boobs. I know I should. I know I should visit the magic lady in the hallowed rooms at the back of M&S, where all she has to do is lay her knowing gaze upon me and whisper in sepulchral tones about adjusting straps and ‘scooping the breast into the cup’, before pronouncing into the ether my size with all the ceremony of a bosomy eulogy, and thrusting some matronly contraptions into my arms while I stare lingeringly at the frothy, lacy underwear just beyond my reach… I know this is the journey – the exquisite quest – I will have to make again soon.

All too soon! I like my current size, boobs. I like you as you are. Why do you have to change? And I know you have, don’t try to deny it. You no longer fill the cups. Especially you, right boob. You seem to be cowering before your boisterous lefty sister. C’mon! Stand up for yourself! I still love you! Yeah, I know neither of you has seen much action recently, but I try my best – I give you both a squeeze now and then, and tweak the nipples. I know you like that. Should I do that more often? It can get a bit awkward, especially if we’re in public. The elderly gentleman in the post office seemed quite startled when I gave you both a good grope the other day.

Boobs. Hey, boobs. It’s all good. It’s all gravy. I know there’s life in you yet. I know you and me have some good times ahead. So don’t give up on me now, boobs. Just stay bouncy, stay squidgy, and don’t head south any time soon, yeah? I’d prefer you to hover round the chest area. I’ve grown attached to you there.

Oh, and, uh, I might get you one of them Wonderbra things. As a treat. For me AND for you.

Sound cool? Good. Gooooood.

*pats boobs reassuringly*

This is where I should post a photo of my boobs, right?

*drops camera in cleavage* *tries to retrieve it* *gets hand bitten off by guard dogs*

 

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• body image
• body issues
• boobs
• bras
• breasts
• M&S
• me