My blog expresses my views and thoughts and in no way intends to offend however that does not guarantee it wont.
I write in a stream of consciousness and sometimes the odd typo or bad grammar may appear - please excuse these.
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Saturday, April 25, 2009
Over Shoulder Boulder Holders
That's what my brother used to tease me with when I was first wearing bras and I used to think how could he say that about these little bras well now that certainly applies.
How I wish could go back to those days. Those days when my breasts actually could be called perky instead of floppy. Back in the days when I was an A cup, well maybe when I was a B cup would be better look.
I remember the thrill of wanting to wear a bra - that would mean I was all grown up - wouldn't it? I remember getting a second hand bra from my cousin when I was in Year 7 (the year I turned 12) and stuffing it full of tissues and wearing it out and thinking I was just the coolest girl ever.
I remember going shopping with my Mum and then being really embarrassed because she talked in a loud voice to the shop assistant about training bras - OMG, I'm sure she was really talking in a normal voice but it sounded loud to me!!
I remember getting my first pretty bra - a little black net/lace number with a appliqued flower discretely placed over the nipple area - no wires at that time - but did I feel special?
I remember the first time a boy tried to undo my bra - sort of scary and nice at the same time.
I remember having my first maternity bra at the tender age of 17 and realising my breasts were never going to be the same again - from a B to a D in what seemed like an overnight happening. Plain white maternity bras they seemed huge and pointy - no pretty things like now.
So many memories tied up with one piece of clothing.
Now, I hate wearing them, they are a form of torture, they hurt my back, their wires poke under my arms pits, I have trouble doing them up because of my bad shoulder. Oh to go back to the days of smaller perkier breasts and pretty pretty bras - sigh.