goobie's boobies

God I love that Goobie rhymes with boobie. So satisfying.

Yes, I'm about to talk about my breasts. Hang in there. (Hang! Ha!)

I heard about Oprah's bra show, but I didn't see it. Before I even heard about that show, I knew that most women wear the wrong bra size. It's one of those facts you hear but you assume doesn't apply to you. I've had bra problems for years. I cannot seem to find a bra that doesn't have at least one problem. Is it too much to ask to not have to deal with something annoying going on under my shirt for 10-16 hours a day? Does everyone have problems with their bras?

I thought it might be a weight thing. You know, rolls and the like don't do well with things that fit snugly. Elastic bands roll up around them. Bra straps slide down because the shape of my shoulder is more like a rolling hill than a sharp mountain. Worse, the underwire digs into the delicate, fleshy flesh under my armpit. Worst, the underwire snaps and actually punctures my skin (probably a result of tension caused by an improper fit) rendering the bra a piece of trash, and of course the bras with snapped underwires were usually the ones that I liked (rather, could bear) the most.

It was a daily battle when I was choosing bras - do I want to pull up my straps once every minute all day or dig the rolled up band out of my fat roll, where it quickly forms a very painful crease? I'd become so frustrated that I'd been wearing what had essentially become a very lazy sports bra - a normal bra with the underwire removed. It was the only bra that didn't pinch, roll, or slip. What it did do, however, was make my girls look mighty sad.

Then, I kind of snapped myself into reality when I was clothes shopping the other day. My boobs and I didn't have to live like this. I'm much too shy to have some old lady measure me, but I trusted myself enough to remember that I do know my band size, and that probably hadn't changed, but what if...holy christ on a cracker...I've been wearing the wrong CUP size this whole time?!

I've been wearing a C cup as long as I can remember. When I held my boobs or looked at them, they looked like a C, and a C cup bra always seemed to hold them just right. OR DID THEY? I remember one particularly embarassing moment last year when I was basically groped by a gay guy in my coffeehouse while we were talking about bras. I told him I was a C. He didn't believe me, even after feeling them. I don't know why, but I really want to be a C. It just seems so right, so average, so manageable. I've always considered myself a big girl with small boobs - most women my size wear a D or larger. I find most shirts with any kind of darting to be too big in the boob in my size, but usually it's not noticeable enough to look silly so I deal with it.

I lost almost 20 pounds back in February. I was in a pay-to-play type of weight-loss competition with some friends, and I was feeling all kinds of inspired. I cut my food intake down to less than 1000 calories a day. I went on walks and played a lot of Frisbee. Then Micah came back into my life, and suddenly it just wasn't a priority anymore. It was much more fun to cook meals, real meals, because I had an appreciative eater to feed. It took me several months, but I gained all that weight back. I care less now because Micah can't get enough of me. (Also? It's too fucking hot to go outside and run around. Wake me in October.)

The point of all that was to say that my boobs are one of the first things to deflate or plump up when I lose or gain weight. Yes, they're on the plumper side as of late. But...could it be...because I fucking wear a D cup and not a C? And possibly should have been wearing a larger size for YEARS?

It's actually quite unbelieveable to me. I think my general size was playing tricks with my sense of space. C boobs on a thin person look different than C boobs on a thick person. Because now? These girls are resting nicely in a D cup and loving every second. They have a whole new perspective on life, like they just got back from the Peace Corps. There is no digging in my pit area. There is no slippage. No rolling. No snapping or puncturing. I notice they look so much better under a shirt, and fill out the darted shirts much more accurately. Oh, and Micah noticed too, which is fun.

It's a boob revolution, y'all.

(Really, though? I'm a D cup? DANG, momma!)