Bazumbas. Jubilees. Nunga Nungas. Baby Feeders. Tattas. Boobies. Fiery Biscuits. Melons. Fried Eggs. Danny DeVito’s or the Mitchel Brothers. Whether they are small, large, up near our chin or near our ankles – all us ladies have them and the majority of us have names for them. Just so you know, mine are my fiery biscuits! I’m joking – they’re just my boobs. I’m not that exotic. Or fiery. I do love a biscuit though!
Now let me tell you a little secret – up until 12 months ago I was wearing the wrong bra size. Not just a cup size here and an inch out on my back – full on wearing the wrong bra size. I was wearing 2 sizes bigger around my back and 5 cup sizes smaller. I genuinely have no idea how my love mountains managed in their incorrect housing or how I just didn’t get arrested for going out in public in such attire.
It all started when my boob and under arm chaffing was so bad the day after a very sweaty workout, I had to pull the first aid kit out at work. I explained that the usual trick of two bras and a sports bar mustn’t have worked and I don’t usually chafe this badly. The women in the office looked at me like I had two heads. They were disgusted. We ended up googling how to measure yourself and I’ve never been more confused in my life. My c cups had grown in an instant. I felt like all my teenage dreams had come at once. Still unsure of what the interwebs had told us, I got booked in the nearest independent underwear shop for a fitting. They confirmed my large breasted dreams were all true. I also went to Debenhams just to double confirm. I don’t think I’ve excelled in anything and I was about to excel in the very expensive bra department.
I ended up remortgaging our house and getting five new bras that did indeed fit me gorgeously. I had no back ache, my breasticles looked the part and I felt like the majestic titty queen that I was obviously destined to be.
Fast forward to when I went for a run. I had never had to tackle the world of serious sports bras. As mentioned above, I decided it was worth more to encase Mary Kate and Ashley in more bras than their wildest dreams could ever muster up.
What a calamity that was. I had sports bras that cut off my blood circulation. Ones that made them jump around more than House of Pain. And ones that just looked like torture before you even put them on. I do have photographs of the said sweat burns and cuts, but I don’t want to share them and people to be violently sick. It’s only Tuesday.
You will be happy to know that I have found 3 absolutely beautiful, secure and pretty sports bras that keep Ant and Dec in place. I still get a bit of sweat that collects under my mammaries and I do get chaffing – no where near as much!
My question for you this week is, does anyone have any recommendations for the chest area and the sweat that just collects there. And does anyone have any tips or good sports bras recommendations? I mean, the ones I have now are that comfy I might just resort to wearing them constantly. And a front zip!?! – hallelujah!!! I think I just need more than a 3 bra rotation.
I have seen a few anti chaffing rubs out there on the market – are they any good? Are they worth it? Is there anything else I need to know about/be practising/contemplate to keep my chest area a happy place.
I’ve also just researched good sports bras – apparently if you don’t get the correct support and exercise your lady lumps become saggier earlier! I think that’s going to be my excuse from now on?!
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed thinking of as many words for breasts in this blog! So along with any recommendations for my sweaty Betty’s, please join in because this is a fun game.