Ode to the Burning Bra
And it’s not about making a political statement…
Photo by Pablo Heimplatz on Unsplash
https://www.errevi.com/awd/a-v-r1.html
https://www.errevi.com/awd/a-v-r2.html
https://www.errevi.com/awd/a-v-r3.html
https://www.errevi.com/awd/a-v-r4.html
https://www.errevi.com/awd/a-v-r5.html
https://www.errevi.com/tns/b-v-n1.html
https://www.errevi.com/tns/b-v-n2.html
https://www.errevi.com/tns/b-v-n3.html
https://www.errevi.com/tns/b-v-n4.html
https://www.errevi.com/tns/b-v-n5.html
https://www.errevi.com/tns/b-v-n6.html
https://www.errevi.com/mi/l-v-g1.html
https://www.errevi.com/mi/l-v-g2.html
https://www.errevi.com/mi/l-v-g3.html
https://www.errevi.com/mi/l-v-g4.html
https://www.errevi.com/mi/l-v-g5.html
https://www.errevi.com/us/f-v-a1.html
https://www.errevi.com/us/f-v-a2.html
https://www.errevi.com/us/f-v-a3.html
https://www.errevi.com/us/f-v-a4.html
https://www.errevi.com/us/f-v-a5.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/n-v-w1.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/n-v-w2.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/n-v-w3.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/n-v-w4.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/n-v-w5.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z1.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z2.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z3.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z4.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z5.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z6.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z7.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z8.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z9.html
https://www.errevi.com/en/t-v-z10.html
I hate wearing a bra. They are uncomfortable and make me think of ancient torture chambers. Who even invented such monstrosities? I bet it was not someone who wore them on the daily! I miss those lockdown days when I was bra-free and loving every gravity-stricken moment of it.
I have huge breasts. I am not saying this to make my less breasted friends feel inadequate. I am simply stating a fact. I wear size 32H. Double Ds are nothing but a distant memory and in retrospect, those were my better days.
All this began after the birth of my daughter. My father’s genes kicked in and I saw my boobs rapidly balloon from a single D to their present size. It was difficult keeping up with my changing form and so I had to find specialty online stores to get so large a bust for so narrow a back (if you understand the number-letter cryptogram). No sexy Victoria Secrets for me. I had to conform to less lace and more support.
So on those occasions when I am wearing a bra for long hours and feeling the straps digging into my shoulder and the underwire creating craters in my skin, I would sulk and rue the day I was born a girl destined to be ‘blessed’ with these milkers.
I can just hear my Gen Z child, “Oh Mummy, you write about being happy and grateful in every circumstance. Stop complaining and love the breasts your in.”
The look I’d give her would make any appendage go limp.
Girl, just bring me that blowtorch, let me burn this blasted bra off.
