Like 72.9% of the time my experience as a woman is like the bit in Lush Life where Zara Larsson goes ‘yeaaaaaahh’ really passionately before the third chorus- the rest of the time, however, is sadly less magical. You see the problem comes when, as a massive advocate for free the nipple, breastfeeding in public and general boob related antics, I have to admit that that is the only massive part about me. Especially biologically. Because I have no boobs. And even though I’ve learnt to appreciate what I’ve got (which didn’t take too long because realistically there’s not a lot there) as the queen of complaining I couldn’t resist a cheeky hopefully #relatable post in order to try and find my people in a world of DDs.
The Small Boob Struggles
Lost at C I always see posts about girls having no boobs and the introduction will read something like ‘honestly, I can’t bear being a C, they’re just so tiny’ and I feel a metaphorical tear roll down my poorly contoured cheeks (the struggles of not being Kim K) because since when was C not goals? Obviously, you have a right to be unhappy because we’re all miserable here but, do you really have to rub that much salt into the wound when you’re at least 2 sizes bigger than me? I mean, come on, Beyoncé is a C.
And speaking of Beyoncé, I can’t be the only who spends my life googling celebrity measurements in order to gauge where I sit on the lingerie league table. I give myself double points if my Woman Crush Wednesday is the same size as me and triple if they make it onto a best looking list (Dakota Johnson, Emilia Clarke we got this).
Judging When No Bra Everyone says ‘ahh you’re so lucky you get to go out without a bra’ and even though I acknowledge that in some sense I am lucky, you get so many weird looks when you do I might as well just keep my bra on. Especially when it’s cold. I can’t even deal with those outlines myself let alone come face to face with my 55 year old philosophy teacher and have him looking at the headlights on full beam too. Horrible image. Abort mission feminist. I want to evacuate my mind immediately.
Ultimately, I know it’s awful because this type of stigma is something that Free the Nipple is trying to overcome but right now I can’t pretend that I’m comfortable doing it all the time. I’d rather encourage people from the comfort of my super push-up bra and maybe join in on a day when I know I’ll only come into contact with my fridge and cats.
There’s Nothing to Shake So what am I supposed to do when Hey Ya! comes on in the club (because I live in 2003) and everyone else is shaking it like a polaroid picture while I just stand on the sidelines like a shatterproof ruler attempting to bop. I feel like this is the main reason why I can’t go to Newcastle. Everyone on Geordie Shore has their weight fabulously distributed across their bodies- I mean they can simultaneously wear boob tube Missguided bodycon dresses and strapless bras without either falling down, are they magicians or is it all that hairspray?
In addition to the above, here is a visual list of tops I cannot wear due to lack of assets:
Realistically, I’m not that bothered about the one that looks like a Converse… or actually the one that looks like Sexy Tarzan but it would be nice to have the option. Just in case I change my mind.
The Regrets (don’t say I didn’t warn you because this is bad): 1) googling whether ‘boys liked flatchested girls’ when I was no older than 14 2) finding out ‘a mouthful is more important than a handful’ 3) googling the size of the average mouth 4) I think we can tell where this is going. Why did you do this to yourself bb Jess? And the amount of girls in the sidebar asking the same question makes it apparent that something needs to change re body image. The Waitresses might know what boys like but, who really gives a feck?
I Find Boobs So Interesting and I think/hope this is normal. I’m going to compare it to when 12 year old boys find out periods aren’t when you wee blood and suddenly start asking loads of questions about menstruation, because that’s basically what it’s like. I know boobs exist and now I’m asking the questions (usually accidentally and with my eyes. I’m sorry in advance, they just look so squishy). In the meantime I’ll channel my inner Adele and sing to my boobs, as if they were germinating seeds, and wonder if they’ll ever change ft. the extra size you go up when you’re PMSing which never lasts long enough for you to use to your advantage. If I knew in advance when that would be I could plan all my nights out around that period (see what I did there).
So Teamales, tell me your boob stories whether big or small, I’m all ears (and literally nothing else). Thank you for reading and I hope that if you’re part of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee you did some preachy hands throughout.