My Big-Booby Trap

I don’t know about you, but I’ve got some big ta-ta’s, and frankly, they can get annoying. Don’t get me wrong, I love having a nice set of breasts, but as the saying goes—the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

Would I trade them for a different pair? Maybe, but not necessarily due to their size. I’ve fluctuated in weight quite a bit since entering college – the freshman +15, the work – your -ass – off – to – lose – it – 20, the I – look – good – again – so – I – can – be – lazy +10, and finally the what – the – hell – was – I – thinking -10; putting me at a comfortable and satisfying weight. (Although I’m sure I could use to lose another 5—how typical and hypocritical of me.)

My point is that with all this weight loss and gain my breasts have taken a beating, and neither I nor “the girls” are happy about it.

For being as large as they are (34D—nothing too crazy, but definitely not small) they’ve always been, shall I say perky? My girlfriends were somewhat amazed, especially since in high school I was always that girl who never wore a bra if there wasn’t a dire need for one. (Oh my goodness, what a hooch! Whatever.) It was great, it was liberating, and I always prided myself on my big, perky boobs.

But these days they’ve grown wearisome of getting big and then small again, swelling from weight gain and then shrinking from weight loss. They’ve had enough and it’s starting to show.

Upon my chest I no longer find two bouncy, vivacious breasts, but strained ones that have yet to recover from the extra skin that was once filled with beer and campus-food fat. Breasts in need of bras—at all times. No more swinging in the breeze for these puppies, more like girdled up and suffocating. It’s devastating. Well, okay…it’s not that bad, but you know how we girls get, overly critical of ourselves.

My main issue, with these new boobs of mine, is my inability to wear particular shirts; shirts that I once wore without a care in the world. What types of shirts? You know, those sexy backless ones, or those with a plunging neck line that ends just above the belly button. Yea, those.

I can’t go braless like the good old silicon-esque days and I can’t wear a strapless—or any bra for that matter—in shirts such as these, among others. My only solution—I need a backless bra.

Luckily, this type of bra has been around for years, and I could easily purchase one at any store selling lingerie, but how much do I trust these suction-cup bras? What if I sweat? What if it’s raining? Do they actually stick to the body, and well? Will these suction cups support me? So many questions and no one to supply me with answers—at least of my girlfriends. Lucky little bitches either have small boobs that naturally can’t go anywhere, or fake ones. So not fair!

I don’t trust a simply suction-cupped apparatus, such as Gap’s backless bra, to even come close to the support my D’s need, let alone stick to my body without (embarrassing) complications. I don’t trust Frederick’s of Hollywood’s “Stay Kup Stick On” bra either. They just haven’t convinced me. But upon much research, I may have stumbled upon something more to my liking. Something, I believe, that just might do the trick.

Donna Karen’s intimates collection has manufactured a bra that’s not only virtually backless, but seemingly supportive too! Priced at $56, I totally wouldn’t mind spending this much on a bra—despite the fact that I have never paid more than $20 for a bra ever in my life. For this though, it’s worth it. It’s just something I gotta’ have, a saving grace in my wardrobe and booby dilemma. Thank God!

For all you ladies out there with big breasts, unless they’re fake they’re not always going to be up in your chin, or “perfect,” and you may not always be able to wear certain shirts that other, smaller-chest-ed girls can wear. It’s not fair, but hey—that’s the price we big-breasted ladies pay for being blessed. And besides, I’d put all of my money on it that girls with smaller boobs look at us and wish they had what we do.

After all, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.