The C word

Cup size, cup size, cup size, do any of us girls really know our actual bra size?I'm talking exact measurements here, not a quick self-estimate in front of your mirror, or a clumsy DIY bra fitting in the bathroom.Tape measure spun everywhere, one end tucked under your armpit the other end somehow wrapped around your neck?A tug here, a tug there until the tape measure reads the digits YOU want it to read, never mind the truth, ignorance is bliss in regards to bra size.
The bra size debate has been a popular one for the last few months (thank gawwd the media is over the whole size zero topic. Yawn. There's skinny girls, there's curvy girls and there's all the ones inbetween;it really is that simple), with almost every magazine and newspaper accusing us of wearing the incorrect bra size.When I read such intrusive articles I automatically begin defending myself and my boobs,'Umm yeah right over half a percentage of women wearing the wrong bra size, plea-ssse anyway how do they know? Pervs!'




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I can only guess this sudden hot topic has been fuelled by the likes of Gaga and Perry encouraging the underwear as outerwear trend (Thanks for that.But I'm not and shall never be convinced,my underwear is staying very much underneath: the thought of flashing such flesh when out and about running errands such as popping to the post office with my puppies also popping out, well it alarms me-deeply...I'm not into the street crawler, call girl look, no thanks and no way!), I must admit the underwear/outerwear trend had me all concerned.As I had this nightmare, in which I hit the highstreet for a fix of fashion retail only to discover, the only options were underwear as outwear.Gasp.My underwear nightmare continues with a gang of shop assistants quizzing me over my bra size,'what are you huh?A or Z cup or both?What are you?!Your undies must fit correctly, don't forget it will be visible to everyone!Now what are you!'The crazy evil and pushy shop assistant begins hunting me down the highstreet, trying to capture me with a gigantic bra used as a net I shout,' ahhhh I don't know leave me, leave me the hell alone...noooo it's too late I trip and fall down a bra trap, I'm forced to parade around the street in only my bra and knickers. I escape my underwear nightmare by playing dead, only to awake in reality with some serious bra demons playing havoc with my conscious.What size am I?What if my nightmare comes true (Okay so this gypsy once informed me how you reverse all your dreams, no need to worry then?Right?), what if I wake up one morning to find them sitting on my feet?Good God, can that happen if you fail to wear the right bra size for a long period of time?Before paranoia persists anymore, it's time for me to make that date.Bra fitting date.
The word yikes comes to mind as I reach ever closer to my bra fitting location, I can almost feel my embarrassment bringing attention to itself like a big old drive-thru neon sign.How can I a 24yr old woman be so worried, and frightened of a frigging bra fitting?It's ridiculous.I'm ridiculous, however this fact doesn't prevent me from imagining worst case scenarios,like the following: I enter fitting room, greeted by a butch looking diner lady type with a beard,she repeatedly pings my bra straps taunting me with cruel words, for being twenty sizes out, 'Your a pathetic A cup, you silly little girl not an Z cup!Hahaha look, look she has no cleavage, you don't need a bra what you need is a child's vest!' ping, ping, ping.


Eekk, I arrive waiting at the fitting room, intimidated by numerous glossy posters
of perfect underwear models, with their all so perfect cleavage as I begin reminding myself how the models perky tits have no doubt been photoshoped a hundred times over, the dreaded bra fitter approaches me. Turns out she isn't at all frightening (err nor does she have a beard),the bra fitting takes one minute with her tape measure,'There you are then all done,would you like to see our selection of bras?' Phew and wow that was indeed speedy and not cringe worthy at all, though sadly I prove those pervy researchers right- I've been wearing the incorrect bra size. Sigh. How did this ever happen? You don't purchase pair of shoes before trying them on do you?





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As the kind and helpful no longer dreaded 'bra fitter' shows me a selection of bra's for the more (cough) curvy woman, I have adopted a whole new fear. Having to wear a thick, old unattractive,basic beige bra.I feel like special needs, why don't these places go past the standard B/C cup?Is that really asking too much, I'm not requesting for Jordan style bra's:my boobs aren't abnormal nor air bag like(no offense Jordan). I have no other option than to browse the Internet for 'plus size' bras, urrgh now this really does sound special needs.Who knew a D cup required the ugly term which is a big fat p-p-'plus'?No I don't feel like a freak at all, honest.
After much vomiting and being in fits of laughter over the hideous choice of plus size bra's (all about as delicate and pretty as a straight jacket),I discover Freyalingerie which provide an array of beautiful, cool and sexy non-pensioner bra's from sizes B to J cup, all available in the hottest trends (straight jacket not included)and all utterly desirable.So there really is no excuse to squish and suffocate those bouncing puppies into the wrong bra size just for the sake of wearing a pretty ditsy floral lace bra.Finally fashion and fit unite, no more 'Ouch' and no more bra demons.Underwear as outerwear hmm sounds quite appealing.Gaga and Perry I may just join you after all!






P.S...I know, I know I keep moaning about this, but can anyone help me out? I'm unable to drop comments on other blogs due to 'server error' WTF? This is hellish. As I'm reading posts and can't leave any banter.Techno wizards I need your knowledge pretty please?Many thanks x