“What size bra are you?” I ask a friend, casually, planning
a spectacular lingerie-themed birthday gift. “Um…I don’t know. 32B? 34B?” After
a rummage in a drawer, she discovers that she is, in fact, a 34C. There you
have it folks; one of my main bra problems, something I have longed to hashtag
over the last few years. #BraProblems. There are many. Ill-fitting bras,
uncomfortable bras, wired (or non-wired bras)…the list goes on. How can one
cope? It’s a massive problem among young women that they wear the incorrect bra
size; I know, because I’ve seen many a pal grab’n’go in the local Penneys.
“Sure…this is close enough to the right size, isn’t it?” or worse still “it
doesn’t really matter, though – my boobs look better all squashed in this one” In my youth, I was a 36C, and I
was 100% certain of this from the ages of fourteen to nineteen. I ignored the
weight gain, subsequent weight loss, going on the pill, growth spurts and
numerous other things that affect a teenager in these years. I solidly,
stupidly believed that this was my size for five years. It was only when I went
for a bra fitting – on the spur of the moment, in a quiet Debenhams – that I
discovered how, eh, massively wrong I was. At the time of writing, I’m well
overdue a bra-fitting; I try to go at least yearly to ensure I’m wearing the
right size. As far as I can tell, I’m in the minority in this.
Now, I don’t want to
get on my high horse at all here – but if there’s one thing that helps me love
myself, it is well-fitted underwear. However, I’m not writing this article to
condone spending all your wages on underwear; but the thing about the right bra
(or indeed, the wrong one) is that it affects more than just your pocket. Ill-fitting
bras have been linked to higher stress levels, stomach and back pain, headaches
and having weird red strap lines all up your back. It doesn’t have to be this way! According to a survey done recently, 70-80% of
women are wearing the wrong bra size, be that for financial, physical or simply
lazy reasons. We don’t go out in size eight clothing when we’re a size fourteen
– why stuff your poor boobs into a 36C you’re not-so-clearly bursting out of?
Eh, not that I speak from experience at all…
Why don’t we, as a nation, embrace the wonderful ladies of
the fitting room? Perhaps it’s yet another symptom of the “Catholic hangover”;
we ignore our body’s more “sexy” parts, buying the cheapest bra and hoping for
the best. The issues of body confidence and embracing are a whole other ball
game; one I won’t play here. On a practical level, we ignore bra-fitting because
it’s an awkward thing to consider; a fitting room, a middle-aged lady and a
measuring tape. I’m encouraging biting the bullet though -- it’s a free service that many department
stores offer; like Marks and Spencer and Debenhams. While buying a new bra is
encouraged in these places, it’s not necessary. Many a time have I wandered
into M&S, had my bra size checked, and wandered out again, on my lunch
break from college. Come payday, I like to treat myself, but it’s rarely in
somewhere as expensive as a department store. It makes a world of difference to
how you look and feel – dresses that formerly made me look like a lump have
been pulled together nicely by one of my hero-bras. So rather than embracing
“free the tatas” day and going without – go get fitted and buy yourself a
decent bra. You’ll thank yourself in the long run.
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