techno_ballerina

Something is horribly wrong with me, I swear. I went to the mall today (alone, because stuff with my friends didn't work out) and went to Victoria's Secret, as usual. They're really the only bras that fit me well...expensive or not. The other ones at Target and Marshalls don't ever fit me well enough. I discovered that the usual 34-36A was a little too tight. So I try on a 32B. The fucker fits. I am in awe. I let out a little squeal that makes one of the employees tap on the door and ask if everything's okay. I tell her I'm fine, then stare at my boobs in the mirror. Hell, they don't look any bigger. Well...maybe slightly. I'm just confused. I've lost a lot of weight lately, I'm down to almost a size four (depending on some brands) and yet...my breasts get larger. I've been an A cup for a long, long time. My mom wasn't even into a B until she was twenty, and didn't get any larger until she was pregnant with me. I'm okay with my little form now, didn't used to be. When I was a little kid (a whee thing) I was one of those crazy girls who stuffed her bras with tissue and all that. It worked well, until I went to a pool party and was dressed in regular clothes. Got tossed in the pool and they saw the tissue floating in the water. Smooth, yes. My body is just incredibly weird. I'll never get it. Luckily I'll never be one of those girls in their 20s with their boobs hanging down to their knees, no matter how hard I try.

It's a horribly small B cup but still...it's a B!! Christ...I shouldn't be getting so excited over this.