“Forget” some of your lingerie. Anything you’re not wearing out thread by thread is money in your piggy bank. . . if you’re small but firm-busted, you don’t need a bra.” Helen Gurley Brown, Sex and the Single Girl.
First things first. HGB is one cheap little tart. Pennies? Seriously? My favorite purple bra, which I don’t even like that much, cost me $14 at TJ Maxx and I’ve had it for over a year.
That being said, I love going braless and the thought of going back to one (even my not-as-terrible purple one!) makes me want to cry.
I could probably still fit into my first bra (which was also purple!) because my boobs have not gotten any bigger since about 7th grade, when they just sort of showed up. I am a 36A, the flattest in my family. I’ve never liked wearing bras; I can never find the right strap-to-cup ratio.
I was never too bothered by my lack of boobage. My ex bought me a big gel-padded push-up bra, which I wore because the gel part was kind of like a pillow. But otherwise, all my bras have all sucked. I can’t think of one where I thought to myself “Yeah, I’m glad I’m wearing this extra layer of fabric when it’s 108 degrees out!”
I like that I can wear cute halter tops without a bunch of straps hanging out. I like that I can wear low-cut shirts without being told to cover up–what would I cover up anyways? My boney clavacle?
Plus, I’ve rediscovered the great joys of the camisole. All silky and whisper-thin. Lovely. Now I just need to get a few better slips for under my dresses.
So you win this time, HGB. Burn ALL the bras!
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