Yesterday, I went shopping for undergarments.  This is a task that I loath.  First, I was one of those girls that one day woke up and was well-endowed – at the age of 13.  I have spent my life trying to hide them, never comfortable with them.  Second, because of their large size, I can’t just walk into the lingerie department and pick out a bra.  There is a shop that is about 40 minutes from my house.  It caters to large-busted women with hard to find sizes.  Of course, it kills me to spend $120 on only two, but it is a necessity.

It was an interesting experience though.  There was a very kind woman who helped me and was obviously very knowledgable.  I have spent my life having my breasts oggled.  Women often comment that they just can’t be real and many men just stare.  I have actually learned to tune all of that out (a skill that baffles my husband).  In the dressing room, however, this woman was looking at my breasts in various bras in a completely objective way.  I understand that this is her job, but I have never had this experience.  In a way, it made me more comfortable with my physical appearance.  She wasn’t judging me – just fitting me.  It was….I’m not sure, but I do feel a little bit better about myself as a result.

On a side note, I really wish a company would come up with a line of bras for large-busted women that are actually pretty.  Most that I have found would be better described as utilitarian not pretty.  While I don’t show off my undergarments to people (husband excluded), it makes me feel better when I know I have something pretty on underneath my clothes.  The two I ended up buying was a mixture.  One is totally utilitarian (while boring, much needed when it comes to basketball practice) and one that is kind of pretty.  It would have been nice to have the underwear to match, but at $28, I had to draw the line.



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3 responses to “Undergarments

  1. I’ve always wondered how women deal with being so objectified based on an entirely arbitrary physical endowment. I’ve had several friends who like to stare, and it’s all I can do to keep from smacking them. The odd thing is that they don’t really seem fully aware that they’re doing it … it’s as though they’re hypnotized, or something. Scary.

  2. It is a touchy issue, so to speak.

    My wife has quite small breasts–32A. This has tormented her all her life. Objectively, she knows its silly, but it still torments her.

    She has never considered breast enhancement; I agree. Apparently it’s quite common now for teenage girls.The idea of surgically enlarged breasts has always disgusted me. I can’t imagine wanting to touch one.

  3. While I still have my issues (obviously) it took breast feeding two children for me to come to some kind of agreement with my breasts.

    Doctors transplant major organs regularly and I just can’t understand why they can’t transplant a little fatty tissue. It’s a win-win situation. Large busted women can find some relief with a smaller size while small busted women could enjoy larger breasts that are actually natural tissue.

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