What are people doing this weekend?
Celebrating new job with CBB. Then blessedly nothing.
I have to say, as someone who has always been on the flat side, I never quite get why busty women complain about being busty. It seems like a blonde complaining about being singled out for being "too pretty."
There's a connotation of being slutty, easy, asking for it. Plus finding clothes that fit that ride the thin line between frumpy and slutty (perceived or not). Being randomly grabbed, and not just by total pervs, but by guys who decide that because they're out there you must want them to.
Speaking of boobs...I went out for a beer with one of my friends at a nearby pub and the bartender had a TOTALLY AWESOME set. She was displaying them well in a low, cut but tasteful top. They were pretty and I wanted to compliment her on them but was afraid she'd think I was skeevy.
I feel kind of skeevy for even thinking about it. But they were totally perfect. And not even huge or anything. Just...pert and smooth.
What are people doing this weekend?
Renting a lot of DVDs and waiting out Hanna. Who is bringing rain Saturday and Sunday.
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Also a friend's housewarming party and maybe brunch.
Yeah, re: bustiness, what DJ said.
Plus the irritation of bra shopping (where I have to go to the higher-end stores just to find my size, and even then, it's touch and go), the perception (external) that you're dumb, just because you've got a large bust.
I never quite get why busty women complain about being busty.
I don't really have a problem with being busty. I just wish I didn't have to think about them all the time when dressing/buying clothes. I wish I could wear tank tops and spaghetti strap dresses and button down shirts.
Plus there's the having to spend at least $60 on a bra that will actually work for me. at a minimum. Or about $100 for a bathing suit that fits.
I think a lot of it is all that sociatal "Sex and sex organs are dirty" stuff hung squarely front and center on our chests, and it really doesn't matter how I personally feel about it. Society's gonna treat me the way they want.
I've always had big tits, and my mother was all atwitter as I began to "blossom" in the 8th grade or thereabouts. Smock tops were the fashion then, and that's all she let me wear, plus she sewed together the shirt opening just at the bust line so they wouldn't gap. Yeah, I had to pull the shirts on. She fretted over the way the shirts hung away from my body over the tits, as well, and tried to think of ways to make that less noticeable, too. I suggested she could sew them to the tops of my pants, and she considered it for a few minutes till I added, "Of course, I wouldn't be able to get into my clothes, if you sewed the tops and bottoms together."
The "discussions" continued till the end of high school and into the beginning of college. By then I had side jobs and had money of my own, and one time when we were clothes shopping, I picked out a form-fitting black velour v-necked pullover. It fit very nicely. The following "discussion" can probably be accurately imagined. Finally she snarled, "I'm not paying for it." "I always planned to pay for it myself," I told her calmly.
In her defense, her own father was a drunkard and made very nasty, baseless accusations of her, and she adored him, so she was always very sensitive about how my sisters and I presented ourselves. Still . . . I suspect my weight gain was more than a little based in the desire to stop having male persons make remarks at me based on my tits. It's easier to be fat than to be busty.
The thing that's been cracking me up lately is that I've been hanging out with a few people (the dancers) who are skinny girls. Who are almost entirely flat. So me and my ginormous *A* cups are ...large. And have gotten commented on. And I"m like "What crazy alterna-universe are we in here, y'all??"
The boobs conversation reminds me of a conversation I had here at work with a tall, skinny co-worker who was saying she can't wear certain things. I was like, dude. Don't say that to other people -- everyone else thinks you're the one who can wear anything!
Most of my weekend will be spent in the suburbs with friends. Inside, I assume.
