For my female readers, most of whom are closer to my age than that of those store clerks referred to in Kim’s post – and because the title contains the word “Boobs” and is therefore sure to bring in lots of readers who never before knew my blog exists.
(Comments are closed here – leave comments over on Kim’s site.)
In winter, I know exactly what to do with my boobs.
My only decision in the winter is whether to go with the black bra, the white bra, or the beige bra. Spoiler alert: they are all the same bra, just in different colours! My winter bra has comfortable thick straps and soft, seamless cups, and goes on sale at Sears every three or four weeks.
Nine months of the year, I amble along in my comfortable winter bra, giving little thought to my boobs. I don’t bother them and they don’t bother me.
Then summer arrives and suddenly my boobs become a problem.
Shops are filled with halter-style tops, and scoop-necked sundresses, and t-shirts so thin you can spot an outie bellybutton. And twelve-year old salesgirls share pearls of wisdom like “just go braless” or “try a bandeau” or my personal favourite… “Just go next door to Victoria’s Secret…
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Cordelia's Mom, Still 