Ditching The Bra

I have discovered several benefits to this retirement lark. This is by far my favourite.

Through my teens and twenties I used to bemoan the fact that I still only had a chest measurement whilst everyone else, including my younger sister, had a bust measurement. They would happily strip off in the changing rooms to show off their fancy bras. I would skulk in the farthest recesses, preferably behind some lockers, ashamed to be still wearing a vest at 16! I vividly remember my embarrassment, whilst wearing my first ever bra, when the toilet paper filled socks I had shoved into each cup worked their way out of the bra, over the neckline of my dress and fell at my feet in front of my school friends. 

When I got married at 19, I resorted to “The Wonderbra”, which was supposed to push everything up and in to create a cleavage. But even a Wonderbra needs something to work with so I walked down the aisle flat chested in my tiny wedding dress. Breast feeding five daughters didn’t alter things either. In fact, whilst expecting number four, I was in Mothercare, with Paul in tow, looking to buy a nursing bra. The assistant asked me what size bra I usually took, to which Paul replied at the top of his voice, from several aisles away, “she doesn’t know, she’s only ever worn teen bras!” Over the years I have tried all manner of “solutions” to my problem; padded bras, pump up bras, gel bras, even sellotape! My attempts at improving my bust-line all came to a head at our daughter Suzy’s wedding. My Mother Of The Bride outfit was a gorgeous Karen Millen peach silk crepe sheath dress reminiscent of a 1930’s style. To ensure a perfect silhouette I had bought a satin corselet, however, whilst the body fitted the bra cups were too big. To solve this problem I filled them with those silicone inserts that resemble a pair of chicken fillets. I turned up at the wedding feeling a million dollars and all went well until later that evening. The reception was in full swing with everyone dancing and enjoying themselves, including me. I can’t even remember who I was dancing with when I had to make my excuses and rush off to the toilets. My chicken fillets had slid out of the bra cups and past the under-wiring. One was now positioned just above my hip, making it appear like I had developed a huge growth whilst the other one was almost out off my knicker leg. One more shimmy on the dance floor and it would have made a full escape! 

Having to wear a bra for work was a necessity. My uniforms were ill fitting enough and without a bra I would have looked totally shapeless. But having nothing to put in the bra also meant I had nothing to stop it from moving about during work. Either it would shoot upwards leaving my boobs hanging in mid air or the shoulder straps would slide off my shoulder and down my arm, pulling the bra downwards towards my waist. I was forever fiddling to get everything back in place. 

It wasn’t until I turned 50 that I became curvy, I had even developed a cleavage. As Paul joked, it was like I’d suddenly hit puberty! Happily this coincided with my new interest in all things vintage. I was wearing a lot of 1950’s inspired dresses and needed the right undergarments to show them off to their best advantage. I had bullet bras, corsets, corselets, waist-cinchers, girdles, anything to accentuate my newly developed curves. I even treated myself to a pin-up photo shoot at the ripe old age of 55. 

But now, looking back I see that I am the lucky one and can see the advantages of my small boobs. They are staying put whilst others are moaning about theirs heading south and becoming pendulous. As my sister says, I can get pretty bras, pretty bras for huge boobs are very few and far between. I can wear dainty bras, she has to wear bras with the supportive structure of the Forth Bridge. My boobs give me a little cleavage, hers make a shelf under her chin big enough to rest her gin glass on. She has to sleep in bra to stop her trapping one of her boobs under her armpit when she turns over. Which brings us neatly back to one of the best things about retirement is not having to wear a bra every day.