Whatever you want to call them. In this instance, I shall call them tits. Mainly because I don't like the others (although many think 'tits' is vulgar) and because, although I'm fast approaching 27 (I know, I know... You all think I'm a baby - TRUST ME, I don't feel like one so let's just leave it there), 'tits' makes me laugh. So tits it is.
If you've had a baby (or seven) you'll know the effect that baby has on your jugs (I can't keep typing tits because I may end up giggling too loud and a) waking Lil up or b) wetting myself) and it ain't a pretty one at that.
Mine droop. Sag is such a harsh word and makes me gag a bit. They droop all sad because they're no longer right up high, all pert and young. Ol' droopy tits they call me (nobody calls me that except me in my head).
We could all have our tits enhanced and some of you may have already done so (lucky). But my husband won't hear of it (although if he saw them right now he'd probably write me a cheque quick sharp) and I don't have the cash to flash to Doctor Matti on the plastic mecca that is Harley St. So this is what I'm going to do...
One of my sisters is a boob guru. She's been trained up in boobs and how to measure them and which bra is good for what. She can tell you your size just by looking at you, fully clothed. Yup, that is how god damn good she is. She told me not that long after having Lil, something I already knew. My tits had started to sag. Thanks for that, sister. Bitch won't mince her words.
But what was I to do about them? She knew I couldn't afford new ones. 'Invest in a good bra and nobody will know any different, unless of course you show them'. Good advice. But not the best advice when the only person who was bothered about them was me. I didn't care that nobody really knew just how low they hung, I couldn't bare to look at them.
'Wear a bra to bed'.
Good lord, say whaaaaaat? Possibly the most uncomfortable suggestion that has ever left her mouth. Aside from sharing a bed with her and getting a black eye at the end of it. Apparently, gravity cannot pull those suckers down the whole time they're strapped in to a hammock.
It took me a while to think about this one. But tonight, I decided to give it a go. So here I am in bed with a wireless bra on. I thought about doing the 'I must increase my bust' exercise but then remembered I actually don't want to increase their size, just increase their position. A foot or two.
I shall let you know how I get on. I imagine it'll take a few years to notice any difference, unless of course I find a cheque in my purse to get some new ones. But we'll see...
*I ended up taking my bra off about an hour after getting in to bed, it was just too uncomfortable. Maybe i'll try again tonight.*
No comments:
Post a Comment