by Marcelle Karp
I have to confess that I love my breasts. Lots of girls have mixed feelings about the size, shape, or sag factor of their bosom, but I don't. I have always wanted breasts, big ones that would swing to'n'fro, and hang real low, just like my mom's. I loved my mama's mammaries. I prayed I would inherit hers. When I did begin sprouting, I was quite happy, especially when I passed the Pencil Test with flying D's at the budding age of twelve. At fourteen, I fulfilled that childhood dream of inheriting my mama's mammaries.
Oh, I love my tits. How could I not love them? They're so so so mushy, pliable, slightly mealy when I am in a womanly way, and they're mine! All mine! I love them equally even though one is a little longer than the other. I don't have a pet name for my boobies, although there is indeed a left one and a right one. They hang as they like when they are loose and they sit upright when placed in my bra.
Finding the Right Bra is like finding the right guy. A perfect match leads to very happy boobs! I have a dozen different bras, in all sorts of colors. There are a few that I liked so much I bought three of them. Bras make my breast work, and bras work my breasts. If I want to get a man's attention on a date, I wear my sexy leopard push up bra which gives me miles of cleavage. If I want to kill at a business meeting, I go to the minimizer, because I don't want my tits to be in the way of my face. When I am in a womanly way, and my breasts get rounder and bigger, I wear my Madonna bra, which is a straight cone cup kind of ditty. I have lacy bras, satiny bras, demi bras, bras that snap shut in the front, even strapless one. Oh how I love bras!
Repeat after me: Bras are your friend. Bras hold your breasts in place so they don't smack you in the eye when you jog, walk or bend over. Bras can make your breasts look large or small. Bras can create cleavage where none exists and accentuate the not so well endowed to va-va-va-voom status! Bra wear is everywhere from the raunchy nipple cut out Frederick's of Hollywood bras to the sexy Push-Up bras which prop your tits up at your chin. There's the Wonderbra which is supposed to produce cleavage, and more feminine flowery-brand-named ones such as Olga, Maidenform, and Bali line the racks, racks that are stuffed with sports bras for the active lass, minimizers for the well endowed but shy girl, and Goddess bless, underwire bras for those of us who want real support. I'd be willing to bet that most of these chiquitas looking to be lifted and separated were not weaned on Ms. Cross Your Heart, Jane Russell, but on Judy Blume's heroine Margaret, whose mantra I MUST I MUST I MUST INCREASE MY BUST is a girlie generation's battle cry!
Our boobies are a source of great confidence, security, and at times anxiety. We want them healthy. Everywhere we turn we have messages reinforcing our upkeepBreast Cancer public service announcements remind us to check our breasts and hopefully we do; women's magazines highlighting depth defying cleavage and how to camouflage our lack of it; even supermodels have tits, and we all know how much we want to be like them!
Your breasts, armed with your trusty bra, are a mighty mighty tool. Together, they epitomize your woman-ness, your strength, your security in yourself, and your body. Utilized as a source of empowerment. Because they are. Your strongest weapon. </end>
Illustrations by Jen Dalton