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Have You Seen My C-cup?

I swear it was here a moment ago. Bra rage: What in the actual f*ck has happened to bras?

Finding bras is hard

Yeah, it’s always been difficult. I have a strong build. My lungs are chunky. In another life, my ample rib frame would have put me first in line to be a master deep-sea diver or an old-timey wooden beer keg like the ones in Gaston’s pub in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast.

On top of all of that girth are my girls: the supple, bottom-bellied minx that is the left and the slightly smaller ruffian I affectionately refer to as Ol’ Righty.

My breasts aren’t terrible together. They don’t match, but they have found it in their oppositional cores to fit into a c-cup bra for most of my life.

My years of imitating breasts

I spent a good amount of my late teens and early 20s squeezing into a 38B. Since I didn’t grow breasts until I was 28, this meant for just shy of 10 years I’d strap on a 38 and immediately bend forward to use the gravity of my situation and some excessive pulling strategies to fill the cups with the overhanging rib skin from my sides.

Suffice it to say, bras were not comfortable during this time.

One day in college, I tried on a 38C. I had a bit more rib overhang at that time due to my freshman twenty-five.

It still wasn’t comfortable. It pinched terribly. I thought I might fall forward with the awkward, shifting weight of my rib flesh. BUT. The c-cup fit more rib flesh and I looked positively voluptuous! From then on, I decided. I am a 38C.

I thought I had arrived. Little did I know.

Always a c-cup

When I was 28, I grew breasts. Actual breasts. Not rib skin shoved into cradled foam. Breasts. I was so excited and confused that I went into a bra store to get a little advice and a few double hammocks for my new lovely lumps.

A bra fitting expert told me that I was a C-cup. It was nonsense.

How could I be a C-cup now? Couldn’t they see I had grown breasts?

I had been measured before, but I suppose my early stats were flawed. Sure enough, I was a 40C. I tried on the bras the salesgirl got for me. They were not terrible; I didn’t even bend forward to fill them.

Today’s standards

I’d been happy living the 40C life until the demi came along. I’m not one to walk about with my bra shoved below my nipples. The crushed lace slips of the demi’s subpar coverage didn’t make for acceptable breast restraint, but I really didn’t care for the full-coverage, ever-thickening foam variety either.

So a couple of years ago I changed cup sizes to keep my bra style. I like unlined, lace, underwire bras. I love to see the shape of my breasts. I like to feel them breathe a bit, to move a bit more naturally over my wide-set frame.

This style makes me feel feminine. It makes me feel in touch with my body. I began ordering 40D demis for the girls. They LOVED them.

Here’s the rub. Holes happen. Wires break through. Straps get less strappy and it’s time to step out into the world to find us a new bra.

Mail order bras

I just received two bras in the mail. One, a 40D with details that I thought were similar to the ones I have but most definitely were not. I put it on to find my ladies lost in bilateral black voids beneath massive, grey, laced balloons that protruded from my barrel chest. Nope.

The second was a 38D demi because apparently everyone is a 40D demi or the suppliers don’t make enough. I hooked it on the last loops and it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t lacey though. They had sold out of all of my favorites.

I do it for the girls

When I started writing this I was mad. I’m not that mad anymore, but I do wish that bras weren’t so hard. I need new bras; it’s not rocket science. Do stores not make more of what they sell?

Are women wearing different shades of balloon-esqe, padded foam bolsters on the daily?

When a woman decides that she likes the size, shape, and feel of her breasts, is the only option to go sans bra?

Where have all the good bras gone?

I’m glad I’ve come as far as I have, from shoving rib meat into plushy flaps of fabric to searching for bras that I can wear with confidence and comfort that are in alignment with my sexuality.

A good bra does make a difference. Have you seen my c-cup?

Check out my profile: Brett Jenae Tomlin.