A Tale of Two Titties

My boobs have been the topic of many a conversation of late (probably because I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to hold them up in the low-backed halter-top thingie that I have to wear for my friend's wedding next week), so I figured it was as good a time as any to give a brief history of/tribute to The Girls.

I was a "late bloomer" and didn't develop anything beyond prepubescent mosquito bites until I was about 14 years old. By the end of high school (age 18), I had topped out at about a B-cup, a size with which I was perfectly content. I hovered around B-cup territory for the next year or so, but midway through my second year of college, it became obvious that my breasts could no longer be contained by my trusty old B-cups. Little did I know that this boob growth would be an enduring trend!

By the end of my junior year, I had mostly pulled myself out of my years-long deep depression (which was, incidentally, unrelated to my boobs) and started eating a lot better, leading to a significant weight gain. As the rest of my body filled out, so, too, did my boobs. During my last year of college, I developed a close, personal relationship with beer, leading to an even greater weight increase and a corresponding breast inflation. By the time the end of my senior year rolled around, I was starting to stretch out my C-cup bras, but they still did the trick. I managed to make them work for me until this very day--more than a year after my college graduation, at the ripe old age of 23--but I can no longer live in a state of D-denial. It's time to bite the bullet and buy some damn D-cup bras.

I look back with fondness on the days when I was a member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, when I could wear a nice women's button-down shirt without my boobs busting out of it, when I could jog across the street in a regular bra without being arrested for public indecency. But those days are over. It is with a sense of melancholy that I prepare myself to go out to buy my first D-cup. In some department stores, I may actually be relegated to the "full-figured" section. I just hope my stupid boobs don't grow anymore... bra-shopping ain't cheap!