Sunday, January 26, 2014

And so it begins.

I'm not entirely certain what the main point of this blog will end up being. As of right now, I need somewhere to gather my thoughts, to understand everything I can about this one particular thing: bras.

For the past few days, I've been perusing countless retail websites for bras, blogs about bras, whining to my friends about bras.

We've all heard the statistic that "eighty percent of women are wearing the wrong size bra." Whilst I don't believe that's the -real- number (really? a perfectly neat eighty percent?), I do believe that a good amount of people aren't wearing the best bra that works for them. I know I haven't been since, well, since I first started wearing bras.

When I turned eleven, I was told that I -had- to start wearing a bra. I was about to start middle school in a few months' time and the rules there were all females -had- to wear a bra. Our P.E. classes involved changing in a locker room and we simply were not allowed to not have a bra on in the locker room. I remember back then, my requirements were just that my bra not give me cone boobs because I was not Madonna. Honestly, that's pretty much always been my only requirement.

My breasts are not the picture-perfect, cute, perky, firm, "young person's" boobs. Growing up, I always felt so incredibly ashamed about my breasts because of this. Even now, perusing all these blogs, reading about different bras, I see some bras being described as being a better fit for those with firm-tissue breasts, "e.g., the younger crowd." I'm twenty-three, so I'm pretty certain I fit into the umbrella-termed "younger crowd," but my breasts are not, nor have they ever been, firm-tissued.

My breasts are wide-set. They're droopy. Pendulous, even. They're soft. They've never once supported themselves. You know what so many places I've seen describe these types of breasts as? Those that have aged. Settled. Sagged over the many, many years of existence. -Old-. Now, I'm not one who has a fear of getting older. That's not the issue. The issue is that all my life, I've been told by the media and so many "How to Identify Your Breast Shape" type charts that my breasts belong on an old person and therefore my breasts aren't youthful or exciting or enticing.

I always felt like I was missing out on a part of life. Your breasts are supposed to be perky and way up there on your chest, then when you're older, they'll droop down and be soft, but I skipped right on ahead to droopy. I didn't want people to see them, to know that my breasts were old and ugly, so whenever I got new bras, I'd try a few styles and whichever one was the least uncomfortable, I'd buy in several more colours and just deal with them until I needed new ones.

I always knew the saying that your bra band is supposed to carry the majority of the weight of holding up your boobs and the straps were there for any residual bits of support, but I don't think I ever truly understood that until recently. For the past decade, I've always worn either a 38 or 40 B or C. Did they ever really support me? No, but they supported me -some-. My breasts went a little higher than they sit naturally and that was good enough for me. Over the course of the day, they'd always droop down within the cup, though, many times, actually, but I'd just adjust  myself and continue on. I also knew the band is supposed to sit horizontally on my chest, so I made sure to not tighten the straps too much to make sure they didn't pull the band up.

The way I saw it, the only way to get a bra to really truly support your breasts with that forward-projected, perfectly-rounded look was to have breasts that naturally looked like that without a bra on. Bras were meant to cover-- that's it. If it's uncomfortable, well, you just deal with it because that's how bras are.

Recently, I decided it was time to finally buy new bras. I'd bought quite a few bras about four years ago which felt decent in the store when I tried them on for a few minutes. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but that was to be expected. The thing I loved about them? They projected my boobs forward. The tops of the cups were open and you could see my breasts had a bit of a rounded look to them. I loved that. I quickly bought as many as I could find in my size and went home, cut off all the tags, and felt absolutely excited to wear them all. Then I went to work. All day long, I was having to readjust because I popped out over here or over here or my breasts were sliding downwards in the cups leaving me with my normal, droopy-looking boobs, but with a bra over them. At first, I didn't really notice the issues, but after a few days, they really stood out to me. I couldn't buy new bras, though. I wouldn't. I just -bought- a whole bunch of bras, I was not going through that experience again.

The fit of the bras got worse and worse until finally, a couple weeks ago, I just couldn't take it anymore. I needed new bras. I could tell the band was loose, the cups were too small. 38B just was no longer fitting me. I figured I'd move up to a 38C, then. Tried a few bras on, took them home, and put one on to try for an extended amount of time. I slipped a tight, rib-knit tank top on over it and wandered about the house, waiting until I had to get ready for work. It felt great! So, I cut off the tags, put my work shirt on (a loose t-shirt) and went off to work. Immediately, the bra was horrible. Apparently, the tank top is what made the bra work for me. Getting rid of that got rid of all the great support I had in the bra. 38C obviously did not work, either. So I researched and researched and came to the conclusion that I simply wasn't a 38 nor was I a C, or even a D. What size -was- I? I had no idea.

I still have no idea, but I'm trying to figure it out.

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