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12:15 pm: My Savage Breasts
It's official, y'all: my boobs require their own zip code.



In college, I had a boyfriend who was a boob man. Actually, that seems like much too mild a statement, sort of like calling a lifelong three-packs-a-day smoker a dabbler in the nicotine arts. He just...he really loved big boobs. So when I'd buy a new bra, he'd come over and gloat. "Wow, four hooks! You're HUGE!" he'd say enthusiastically, and I'd want to hurt him.

Thank god I didn't marry him. Thank you, thank you, thank you, god. Because if he'd been here today, he'd be writhing on the floor right now, while I stood over him and said, "Wow! How convenient! Your balls just detach!"

See, I'm in one of my annual "OMG why are all the clothes gone?" buying fits - basically, I would never shop for clothes ever under any circumstances if it was not for the fact that the old ones wear themselves out without my permission - and bras are a critical element of this annual festival of pain.

So I was looking at bra fitting advice - because typically my bras don't actually, um, fit all that well - and I saw this piece of information:

"If your cup seam doesn't lie flat against your breastbone, you need to go up in cup size."

And I was like, "Who the FUCK has a cup seam that lies flat against her breastbone?" I very nearly posted here, asking you to go check yourselves out in the mirror wearing your best fitting bras, but fortunately saner heads prevailed. But I did some, uh, not very covert local observation, and I discovered: other women really don't have magically projecting cups. Their cups snug right up to their bodies and nestle down for the winter.

So, with much reluctance, I got a tape measure and actually measured myself.

This is something where - okay. If I could've chosen to pay $150 to have a stranger in another town measure herself, and that would've worked, I would totally have done that. It is worth $150 to me not to have to take a tape measure to my own body. But, tragically, that technology hasn't been perfected yet. I had no choice but to whip out the ol' tape.

And, like, wow. I never have measured myself for a bra before, but I would say the instructions I was given were slightly inaccurate. I would write them thusly:
  1. Measure around your chest just below your breasts.

  2. Measure around the fullest part of your breasts.

  3. Subtract the first measurement from the second.

  4. Memorize or write down the resultant number.

  5. Bop cheerfully over to the computer and look at the sizing chart.

  6. Cry.
Because according to the sizing chart, my boobs - well, as I said: they needed their own zip code. See, I've been going up in band size, because I assumed my bras didn't fit because I'm fat. But according to the sizing chart, my old band size is actually too high, and my bra problem is that my boobs are fat. Very, very fat.

But I know better than to believe what I read on the internet, so I went down one from the recommended cup size (and that was, yes, still larger than the bras I've been buying) and bought two bras in that, figuring I could publicly mock the sizing chart when they proved to be too big.

They came today. They fit better than any bra I've ever owned. It's pretty clear that if I went up a cup size, they'd fit perfectly.

And that is...that sucks. Because I was already out of the pretty bra range, where you can have things like bows and prints and frolicky cotton. When you switch the little size box to my old size, the color box goes down to just four: white, black, navy, and beige.

But now. But NOW. The size I apparently actually am - when you switch to that, you get just black and white. And the only bras that come in my size at all are what you might call Extreme Ordnance bras - like, these things are not so much sewn as they are constructed. By bridge engineers. Out of high-performance steel. Their general design message is, "Whoa, girl. What have you got in there, watermelons?"

One of the bras I got today has SIX hooks. SIX. And it's a cup size too small! The actual proper size is probably going to have GIRDERS.

I can just picture my college boyfriend's unbridled glee at that piece of news.

I kind of wish he was here, actually. Then at least someone would be delighted at the news. Plus, I would be able to be mad at him, and that would make me feel better.

But he's not. So I'm just posting a little note to say: if you want to send something to me, I'll be at the old address. But if you want to send something to either of my boobs, well, I'm going to have to call the post office. Because there's just not room in this zip code for all three of us.

Comments

[User Picture]
From:littera_abactor
Date:June 14th, 2006 09:31 pm (UTC)
(Link)
I am in no way biased against the smaller-breasted among us; through posting this, I've learned that bra trauma transcends all boundaries.

They both swear by Intimacy.

Oh my god that sounds cool. But I'd have to get fitted! In an actual store! By a salesperson!

*breaks out in hives*

Okay. They don't have a store in my half of the country (I live in California), so I have an excuse for a while longer.

(But - OMG, free replacements. I would kill for that. I might even fly to Atlanta for that. Hmmmm. I wonder if I could send maygra a line saying, "Coming to Atlanta! To buy a bra! Wanna come?")

if people like me and people like you could somehow, you know, share the wealth, that would be amazing

Yes. Yes, that would be excellent.

*is prepared to be very generous with her cleavage if that technology is ever perfected*
[User Picture]
From:prettypinkkitty
Date:June 14th, 2006 09:48 pm (UTC)
(Link)
Popping in from metaquotes to say - I LOVE Intimacy. I'm not any special size, just a 32C....who'd spent years thinking she was a 34-36B, thanks to Victoria's Secret. I went to Intimacy and got a resizing done there. I mean, I'm not going to say it's not awkward, but it's only awkward for the person being fitted. These women see more chests in a day than...well. Complete that as you will. It's like going to a doctor, really. They've seen big ones, small ones, etc etc. Plus, they hardly see anything. I HATE showing skin, and it's so not hives-inducing.

And now I have a chest! And it looks cute! I can wear dresses that show cleavage, and cleavage exists! Something I'd suggest is search www.dailycandy.com in the nearest city they have for you. If you look for bras, they generally list the ones where good measurers can be found.
[User Picture]
From:rosekay
Date:June 15th, 2006 12:43 am (UTC)
(Link)
They are indeed awesome. I have the small skinny flat chested curse, and didn't even know that a 28 or lower band size even existed before Intimacy. I'd been getting 32/34 As (thanks a lot Victoria's Secret) when I'm really a pretty full 28 B.
[User Picture]
From:rosekay
Date:June 15th, 2006 12:38 am (UTC)
(Link)
lol, the fitting might be a little intimidating if you're allergic to that sort of thing, but it's really a one time thing, and the employees are very professional/good at minimizing embarassment.

As for locations, I think they originated in Atlanta, and are only recently expanding. The one friend I was talking about was born and raised in Georgia, so she'd used it before, but she only introduced me and the other friend to it when they opened their NYC store this year. So, who knows, they might pop up on the West Coast sooner or later.

If you sent maygra that note, with nothing else written, it would only be, you know, AWESOME.

[User Picture]
From:shrewreader
Date:October 23rd, 2006 03:12 am (UTC)
(Link)
BethH and I discussed, at Con.Txt, a panel. at the next slashcon.

"Taking care of the Girls: Proper fitting with professionals."

I'm thinking this might be a better idea than we knew.

Really, we could do better than the women with the T-shirts that they made up -that- night with John & Rodney reading "We're SGA! We Go there!!"

(Here courtesy of Shemchadash, btw, who presumably got here by friends' friends...)
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