August 10, 2005

i have breasts. kirstin dunst does not.

The following post is aimed toward the female readers of the blog. Male readers, well, you're going to enjoy the subject matter I suppose, just keep the sniggering down at the back, ok?

I have an ambivalent attitude toward my breasts. I am happy that I have them and I'd rather have them than the alternative, but there is no getting around the fact that, at times, I wish they were just... different. I am pretty much sure that most women feel the same way toward their breasts - bigger, smaller, different conformation, you name it - none of us are happy with what we've got.

For my own, I wish there were just that bit smaller. I'm not approaching Jordan, sorry Katie Price, in proportions, but I am certainly larger in that department than is average. It's lucky I've got a naturally stocky build, or I would be in danger of looking all out of proportion. Most times this does not, shall we say, put me at a disadvantage? But then there come the days when I have to go clothes shopping.

That's when the wheels fall off the wagon.

I can't remember where I read the stats, but the 'average' woman is a size 12 or 14, and a size 36 B or C, so I'm nudging the upper range of normal. Clothes, on the other hand, are designed for Kirstin Dunst who probably approximates a size 6 and is a 32 A or something. For many years this was fine with me. You shop in the 18 plus and you get inured, if not contented, with voluminous clothes that most definitely weren't designed with Kirstin Dunst in mind. But I've been working hard this past year or so on taming my recalcitrant body, and I've finally got to the point where I can wear (and look halfway decent) in clothes designed for normal people. Oh, the pleasure of taking a size 14 into the changing room and knowing that, even if it looks ugly, it won't be the fit that is to blame! So I am finally able to wear trousers again after about five years of clown-pants and long skirts, and... now I can't find tops that fit me.

Maybe my proportions are all wrong, but clothes just don't seem designed for people with breasts. Any breasts, not just slightly-larger-than-average breasts. I tried on one of those looks-great-on-the-models silky camisole thingumies in H&M today. You know that moment when you've got the top over your shoulders, but it won't go over your breasts, and you start to panic thinking "Oh my god, they're going to have to cut me out of this, and it was the cute male assistant on duty today..."? Well, I had that moment and then some today. Fortunately I remembered some breathing exercises I picked up when playing the oboe that had the side effect of minimizing the bust. Managed to wriggle out of the top, with my dignity (and hairstyle) ruffled but more or less intact. Just hope they've not taken to putting cameras in the H&M changing rooms...

Even when I do find tops that fit, which is no easy matter, short of wearing a polo-neck I always end up exposing more cleavage than a nice girl should. I can wear vests underneath tops (fortunately the layered look is in right now), but I still catch more than a few men looking at my breasts instead of my face. As for when I want to wear that nice strapless or backless dress, well, something things are just never going to happen no matter how much we might want them to. I'm never going to be a world-class athlete. Nor, do I think, is au naturelle an option darlings.

Which kind of brings me to part two of my breast-related rant. Bra's. I could swear that the sizings have got smaller in the last year or so. *eyes narrow* M&S must have some conspiracy going on with small-breasted women to make them feel better, because there is no way that at the same time as LOOSING lots of weight, my breasts have gone UP a cup-size.

Also, do they have to be so fricking expensive? You're looking at the sharp end of £20 for a nice bra, then £5 or more if you want matching knickers. That's my weekly grocery budget. Two sets and you practically have a new copy of Mac OSX. You can be sure that if there was a piece of clothing the majority of men had to wear it would cost a lot LOT less. Or be available free from the government or something. There's a thought - bras on the NHS. Then again as a child who was inflicted with NHS glasses, perhaps not.

We won't go into the fact that popcorn (anything I eat in the cinema) seems to have a fascination with my cleavage giving me the option of going searching (and incurring some very scandalised looks from the little old lady at the end of the row), or having popcorn where no popcorn was designed to go for the entirety of the film. But, as I said, we won't be going into that today. That's more to do with my clutziness than my breasts.

Yes, I love my breasts, and one or two other people have expressed a favorable opinion of them as well, but there are days when they do bug the crap out of me. Like today. No, I am not expecting anything constructive to come of this post, I just wanted to share.
Endnotes:
*1*In case you are wondering, todays title is not a quote from any film/book/song or anything I know of. It came out in a conversation about the upcoming film Elizabethtown, a film in which Ms. Dunst looks flatchested, even for her.

11 Comments:

At 4:09 PM, Anonymous meowkaat said...

ROFL.... oh I know exactly what you mean. I have to buy my bras at Victoria's Secret because they just don't exist in my size at regular stores. I have the "luck" of being a size small/medium bottom and extra large top...try buying a swimming suit! You run the risk of prosecution if you get caught switching sizes on those stupid little hangers, not to mention the anxiety you experience while you go through the checkout, praying the checker won't notice the difference in sizes.
Just the other day, I had that beautiful experience of pulling a "stetchy" top over my head and BAM- running into the breasts and just...stopping. Thanks for the laughs. Like you, I'm not complaining... I'm just...whining a little. hehehehe.

 
At 8:13 PM, Blogger invisiblepsychomoose said...

I wouldn't consider myself large, though I do certainly have breasts unlike Ms Dunst, and I can't find any nice fitting blouses that don't want to pop the middle button as soon as I dare to move. I blame all those male fashion designers who wouldn't know a pair a breasts if they slapped them round the face.

 
At 10:24 PM, Blogger The Guy in Charge said...

Feel slightly odd talking about this sort of stuff with a stranger but I was recently speaking to an Australian relative of mine and asked her why everyone hated John Howard, their Prime Minister. She told me that, amongst other things, he had suddenly slapped a huge tax on certain items such as sanitary gear. What you said about the cost of bras reminded me of that. Not that I've ever bought one but yes, bras are ridiculously priced. Maybe that's why I've never bought one...

 
At 2:03 AM, Blogger Jackson B said...

I've bought bras. Though obviously not for me.
I do sympathisze utterly with the size thing - I live in Japan, land of the impossibly slim. If I get a pair of trousers to fit my waist they won't go over my thighs. I end up buying pairs with ballooning waists that always slide down. And I have Hulk-ed a pair of boxer shorts just by sitting down. There is a global designer conspiracy!

 
At 11:38 AM, Blogger Cas said...

meowkaat - glad you laughed! Was worried when I posted it that people would end up offended. You can never be totally sure :S And yep, swimsuits are a problem. That would be one reason the tankini was invented. And one reason I haven't been swimming in... *works it out* since 2002. No longer even OWN a swimsuit and have absolutely no desire to go shopping for one. Shopping is enough of a chore as it is - swimsuit shopping is torture pure and simple. There are much nicer ways I'd rather spend my saturday afternoons.

Moose - your imagry there... beautiful! Class pure and simple ;)

tGiC/Mr Flexible (I hope) - well, if I was worried about talking about this with a complete stranger, I wouldn't have blogged it. Oddly enough, it's actually easier to talk about it over the internet with complete strangers. And yes, I had heard that there was a similiar vat in place in this country already. Not on male razors, but yes on female razors and sanitary products. What progress we have made toward equality since the day when people wanted to make tampons illegal because women might get a little... excited... using them. And that wasn't all that long ago either.

JB - like moose, the imagry in your comment. Hulk-ed a pair of boxer shorts... I don't actually think I know you well enough to go any further with that one.

Does remind me of the other day when watched The Hulk (the Eric Bana one). Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad movie. I was mighty impressed with the stretchability of his boxers though - preserved his dignity rather nicely when he was the Hulk, then kind of just slipped off when he shrunk back again. Go lycra.

 
At 1:44 PM, Blogger Jackson B said...

Oh Oh Oh I HATED HATED HATED HATED that movie!
I was never a huge fan of the Hulk, but the comics did take the rather daft story into some cool directions, and I was hoping Ang Lee might have done something neat with the whole concept, but did he FUCK. No, he just turned it into a ridiculously wanky pseudo-Freudian piece of shite with a plot so muddled that even Stephen Hawking would have had difficulty finding a theory connecting the whole kaboodle together. And what the FUCK was up with Nick Nolte somehow instantly becoming a superhero at the end? Couldn't the Hulk's first enemy have been a bit more pedestrian than his own father, responsible for creating him... nodding off.... Hulk turned into an Ibsen play. An Ibsen play written by Kermit the Frog channelling Jerry Bruckheimer. (sorry for long post, but I've been drinking and you started it.)
Anyway, you've never lived until you've sat down & felt your thighs being constrained by fabric, only to hear a gentle "kahrrriiiip" and feel suddenly free. On a plus point, the crotch stayed intact. erm... the crotch of the shorts, that is. *delicate 19th century socialite blush followed by gentle titter*

 
At 2:05 PM, Blogger Cas said...

You really weren't a fan of The Hulk, were you?

And, if people don't mind, I think we will now leave off discussing the ripping of underwear.

Then again, if anyone has any humorous stories to tell, then do share :D Public humiliation is good for the soul.

 
At 4:06 PM, Blogger Jackson B said...

Well, its true I hated it... but I only went on about it so much cos I'm hammered. Oddly enough, just as I finished typing that, Bart referred to his sister as "thunder thighs". ahhhh... Simpsons.
right, I feel like a spammer now.
evenin' all.

 
At 4:09 PM, Blogger Cas said...

Evenin'

I know, short comment, but - what else is there to say?

 
At 11:21 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

If you actually think Kristen Dunst does not have at least a C cup, than you should maybe spend more time on a tread mill and less time on the computer

 
At 3:06 PM, Blogger Cas said...

anonymous - thank you for your comment. Please see this post, or email me on the address you will find in the sidebar if you would like to discuss your problems with my post in any more detail.

~Cas~

 

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