105 lbs… In my bra!

I just invested $100 on a sports bra. Not the most TIT-elating (bahahah) way to blow a Benjamin (or a Sir John A Macdonald up here in canada), but necessary. I have big boobs. I alway have. I got my first training bra at 11, by 13 I had a full C cup. I have never known the need to stuff a bra, I have on a few occasions had to stuff my breast back into a bra that was ill fitting or too small. That counts? Having these attention grabbers out in front isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. Real breasts are heavy, and effected by gravity, tube top? HA! Spaghetti straps? Only if I want to show off my bra straps (I paid $250 for the damn thing, I should show it off!!) that are a full inch thick. Halter tops give me a headache, you strap 10 lbs around your neck, that will happen. Bathing suits and bras never come in cute patterns or styles, they are full coverage turn of the century pulleys and tarps. And then I need a co-signer because they will easily be $100-$300 each. Cute summer dresses often won’t have enough boob room, I know, booohooo, poor big breasted girl, I know I am blessed, thousands of women would kill for my breasts, and many pay thousands of dollars for implants and surgeries. Well, I got ’em I can complain about them…
I am not enormous, 34-36 DD/EE. I am lucky when I lose weight my boobs generally stick around, or I guess hang would be a better description. They are a little lower than they were a few years ago, sometimes they look sad, nipples pointing at the floor, maybe they are just tired. Except when I lay down, braless they head for each side of my chest, I understand they spend most of the day pressed together sweating, I respect their need for a little alone time.
The left one is larger than the right, by half a cup size, sometimes it chafes, works it’s way out of even the deepest underwires and is out to escape. Getting dressed in the morning requires a maneuver, bend, clasp and shake. Then I gently align my headlights, if by chance my nipples go hard I prefer they point the same general direction. It’s a funny thing when just one goes hard, why? One more sensitive than the other? Are they fighting and not on the same page? It must be science. On occasion I lose things in my bra, crumbs, ID, once I forgot a roll of quarters in there. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle.
I hate yoga inversions, my boobs are suffocating, and high impact jumping/running, sometimes I wonder if I’ll give myself a black eye. What more awesome than doing box jumps? Holding your boobs while you do them so you don’t bounce out of your tank top. I have on occasion worn multiple sports bras at once in order to feel supported. Layers of sweaty tight apparel that you get to fight your way out of at the end. Fun…
I saw an ad for this new sports bra from Lululemon, boobie bracer. They make other styles, in cute colors, but this one comes in basic black. I have given up on the need for pretty, I just want to keep these puppies strapped and secure for my workouts, and then be able to get out of it without too much trouble, I am not houdini.
There are instructions on how to put on this bra, step by step instructions describing my classic bend clasp shake! It’s a thick rubbery sort of material, hard to describe, there is some stretch, it’s like what I picture batmans’ costume to be made out of. Superhero tit sling! Obviously that’s the reason it only comes in black! Batman only wears black.
I wore a dress today so trying on a bra means I am standing in my lulu cubicle, flip flops, a lace thong and a smile. The people at lulu have been so kind as to provide 360 degree mirrors. I see myself naked all the time, just not always at those angles. Surprisingly I am good with what I see, I feel better about myself, those self help books worked! Or maybe it’s the gym regularly? I got distracted leaning forward, are those…? My back muscles? Defined? I flexed for a second, yeah they are, I have back muscles! Self high five, and then I realize I have forgotten the task at hand in order to pose down in the changing room.
I unhook my batman bra and re hook it around my waist, tug it around until the cups face front. I sneak an arm under each strap and wedge my boobs into the pockets. One more step, straps to shoulders, it’s like weight lifting, a clean and jerk, which sounds dirty, but it’s not…success! I am in!
It’s snug, but I feel supported, I straighten out so my nipples aren’t “blue” (one blew east, one blew west). But how will it be jumping? I flex my back again, hey-o looking good… I decide now is the time, I jump up and down. 360 degree mirror and I am doing jumping jacks in a thong and flip flops… Well my boobs were snug and secure, my ass… Not so much, I realize my belly is making more movement than my boobs and am equally impressed and horrified. I’m going to have to check out my flexed back again to re gain my fading confidence. It is a winner. I made the investment. I am excited to go for a run and test it out, well… As excited as I can get about going for a run.

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