I didn't really develop early but I was a year older than the other girls in my classes so it felt like it.
I wear a 40B in the 2 styles of Lane Bryant bras I like and wear all the time. It's almost a C cup but the C cups are a little too big.
However, when anyone does the standard measuring I measure as a D cup. I don't know why it happens but it does.
Even though my weight gain over the years my boobs have pretty much stayed the same size.
The daughter of one of Mom's best friends had breast reduction surgery when she was 17 or 18. I don't know what her measurements were, but she was very petite and was already having back and shoulder issues.
However, anything below a C cup? Those aren't mammaries. It's a fine line.
...they're tits?
I'd be fine with the A cup if it were a smaller band size--those are easier to find. But apparently they assume that if you have big ribs (and even when I've been thinner, my band size measurement was only maybe an inch smaller) you've also got big tits. Not so, manufacturers! Not so.
Jilli, I suggest you hie thee tO the nordstrom rack at southcenter--I was shocked at the number of HH or G cups they had--they usually only have "regular" sizes
Oooh, really? Rock on, I will go visit there after I return from PDX. Plus I need to scope out their hosiery section; now that fashion has decreed that patterned and lace tights are "IN", I can stock up.
DCistas - the Nordstrom Rack at Friendship Heights opened yeserday.
One of my hs students is a tiny, tiny girl, and her cup size has to be F or G and I just feel so bad for her. She's maybe 4'10" and 100 lbs -- 10 lbs of it has to be boob.
Ummm...fess up -- any large busted ladies ever tried to weigh their boobs, and then taken that weight off their general weight?
I discovered that one boob weighs more than is calculable on a kitchen scale, and that you can't weigh your boobs accurately on a bathroom scale.
I possibly am slightly insane. I got a wild hare one night and was obsessed with figuring it out. It was in college, and I even bothered my roomie's for her pot-weighing thingie for a few seconds, before figuring out, unless I actually cut a tit off and slapped in a baggie, THAT wasn't going to work at all.
OTOH, once we hit the pot drawer, we just got stoned and I fell asleep and lost the need to know.
Boobies in Bitches! It's comforting, really.
I think I'm in love with Erin.
I'm starting to give this apocalypse thing a second thought. I just got an email from my mom tagged -sent from my iphone- .
BWAHAHAHAHAHA....remember that whole conversation we were having the other day about "literally"?
[link]
(If it's old, I hadn't seen it before, so it made me laugh. Sorry if I'm a skimmy skimmer who skims and it had already been posted.)
