You know I was talking about becoming really aware of my own boobs? Turns out I’m one of those women who’s been stubbornly wearing the wrong bra size for years.
One of my besties used to be a bra fitter. She’s relentlessly told me, ever since she started there, that I was in the wrong size. To me, this was bonkers. I’m a small woman, so logically I have small boobs. Yeah? Apparently not. And my dear friend would not give in on this idea.
It all came to a head when she dragged me out of the house to go try some bras on. I dutifully disrobed and clipped the first nonsensical-sized bra around my underbust.
Holy crap, you guys. I HAVE been in the wrong size. This is a revelation.
And I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Now, I’m going to try not to get preachy about wearing the right bra here. Like some religious fanatic, I have been fully converted. That doesn’t make it okay for me to lecture you. But, uh, maybe just double check your size, yes?
What this does now mean is that I need a bra size that’s nigh on impossible to get hold of. Because many women wear the wrong size, lots of shops don’t cater to the actual sizing we’re meant to be. I did not anticipate it being this hard to get hold of a 28 back.
If I’d been right, finding bras would be a doddle. They’re everywhere in my old size. I think that partially kept me in denial – the thought of not being able to just walk down the high street and pick up some new bras. That’s exactly what’s happened. My usual haunts for cheap’n’cheerful boob holders are out of bounds.
Being outside of the typical mass-produced sizing means I now have the same problem with bras as I do with shoes. I’ve spent so many hours scrolling through endless photos of bra-covered boobs on Amazon that I pray my parents never see my search history.
And they’re so expensive now! That or my idea of expensive has been hideously distorted by commercialism. I told my friend the incorrect bra I was wearing cost £2.50, and she produced a look that could’ve cut bread.
At first I loved being a different size. LOVED. If I could truly put into words what the literally overnight increase in cup size meant to me, I would. Today, as I cry onto my keyboard while paying nearly £50 for four bras which may or may not fit, it’s not such a good feeling.
