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I’ve never been very fashionable. This statement was never more apt than during my teenaged years.
Back in the early nineties, there was a trend in fashion of girls wearing these leotard like shirts that had snaps at the crotch, like a baby’s onesie. I have no idea why these things were popular for grown people, but I owned a couple of them. Some of them actually looked like shirts, until you got to those hanging flaps with the snaps at the bottom, but if you were wearing one with pants, sometimes it wasn’t obvious that it wasn’t a regular shirt. I had one or two of those kind. However, I also had a few of the other type . . . the stretchy ones that looked like a leotard. And when you pulled those little flaps down to snap them below, it became even more . . . taut.
One night, when I was about 17, I was getting dressed to go out with a friend to a high school wrestling match, where I would also be hanging out with a guy I was “dating.” (Those quotation marks are an entirely separate embarrassing story, thanks). I had just bought one of those stretchy leotard type shirts, but had yet to wear it. I figured this would be a good time to break it in. It was a long sleeve, deep forest green shirt, made of a pretty thin material. However, when I tried it on, I realized that it just didn’t really look right. In an attempt to get a second opinion, I called upon my mom for her advice . . .
Me: “Does this shirt look weird? I mean, you can totally see the outline of my bra and the straps right through it.”
Mom: “Yeah, it does look a bit odd. What if you just don’t wear a bra?”
Me: “Really?”
So, I took off the bra and we both viewed what it looked like without it. Please note, that at the time I had 17-year-old boobs. They pretty much stayed right where they were supposed to, as this was years prior to me birthing two wee tots that would proceed to use them as their own personal udders. They were perky at that point, is what I’m saying.
Mom: “I think that looks better. This way you can’t see the straps!”
Me: “Ok, if you say so . . .”
It was pretty much EXACTLY like this, but with less penis (and more boobs).
And yes, I actually left the house, with my mom’s blessing, nay at her beseeching, in a thin (practically sheer) top, sans protective boob covering.
Did I mention it was winter? So, it was cold outside. Not in my bedroom as I was getting dressed, but definitely outside. Pretty sure you can figure out what that means.
When I picked up my friend and “boyfriend,” I was wearing a coat, but when we arrived at the gym, I removed the coat. Did I mention it was chilly in the gym as well? Yeah. So that was when the problem became evident. Well, to everyone but me, I suppose.
Instead of realizing the wrongness of the situation, I instead just went about my business, all oblivious-like. You see, I was a teenaged girl. And I was sitting on bleachers, watching a boring sporting event with another teenaged girl. So, to pass the time, we engaged in a favorite activity of all teenaged girls everywhere over the history of all teenagedom . . . cattiness.
That’s right, we sat there being snarky about what the other people in the gym were wearing, and basically made fun of things that we thought weren’t “cool.”
After listening to us engage in this activity for a while, my “boyfriend” looked over at me and said this:
“How can you make fun of how other people look, when you are sitting there with your boobs hanging out for the world to see?”
Wait . . . what?
Well then. Wasn’t that just a punch in the gut. Really, it was like a smack upside my foolish head. So, instead of crawling under the bleachers to hide, I just went ahead and put my coat back on, and wore it for the remainder of the wrestling match. Talk about a reality check.
After the match, I went to drop off my friend at her boyfriend’s house nearby. He lived with a few other guys, and we all went inside to say hello and socialize for a bit. However, I didn’t take off my coat. When one of the guys asked why I was sitting there all bundled up in my coat, my friend oh so helpfully told them why. To which, their incredibly understanding and empathetic response was:
“Show us your tits, Misty!!”
I chose to decline their kind entreaty, and instead I slunk out of there, completely and utterly mortified. And I have never not worn a bra out of the house again. Some lessons I guess you have to learn through experience.
Thanks a lot, mom.
My Lilly Pulitzer handbag giveaway ends today at noon, Eastern! Click HERE for details! It’s not too late. Unless it is.
renée a. schuls-jacobson 
Misty! I’m sooooo glad you are here today. This post is fantastic. As was your snap-crotch leotard. (I know because I had three: red, white and black.) I’m so glad those snaps didn’t malfunction. That would have added a whole other level of horror to your experience.
Great post. Great lesson, beautifully told.
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Renee!! Thank you so much for having me over to your humble abode. Writing and sharing this post was indeed cathartic and I am so glad you asked! In fact, it feels so good, that I am now going to share something with the blogosphere that I have yet to share, being all anonymous as I am. I feel that it’s time.
I do, in fact. have BOOBS.
Phew! I feel so free now. Thanks so much for releasing me of these bonds.
You’re the best, Renz!! MWAH!
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And did you see, you are now officially on my blogroll! It’s true!
*fist pump*
I know, right?
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I didn’t, but I do now. Woo-hoo!
It’s the boobs, right? Some girls get beads for flashing, I get blogrolled. Works for me. 😉
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I can send you beads, if you’d like. I still have bags of them in my basement from my days in New Orleans.
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“Show us your tits, Misty!!”
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Damnit. I KNEW you seemed familiar, Don.
Do you have beads? Or blogrolls?
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Oh my lord, to replace that image of your feet with your tits, I’ll find a theme with a blogroll and put you on there twenty times! 10 times if they’re you post kid boobs.
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I can say with some degree of confidence that this author exists, however, I too am not entirely convinced her real name is Misty.
Now. “Misty.” 😉 How was this “boyfriend” (yes I want to hear the rest of THIS story) not happy about this outfit??
This story really, REALLY made me cringe. Excellent So Wrong story!
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P.S. – I’m pretty sure those leotard shirts are on their way to coming back. I’m burning my bras in preparation.
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Yay, a braless Jules to look forward to!
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Heck, these days I don’t even bother with pants.
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Holy smokes! You’ll have that baby planted in no time!
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Then again, she IS wearing a onesie, so it might take a little extra time for Peppermeister to crack the code!
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Hahahahaha! Don’t do it, Jules! Barfing and sleep deprivation and poop. And poop.
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Hi Jules! Those snaps made for excellent birth control. You’d think they were for easy access, but once those snaps were off, you were on your own. If those things are coming back, I’m going to start growing my penis now! 😉
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Well, the “boyfriend” was a total ass, so who knows. (Sorry, Renee! I’m getting all blue up on your blog today. Oops).
And those leotards were hell to get off quickly for sure! If you had to pee really badly, forget it. I really hope they don’t come back, and if they do . . . well, I think my days of stretchy fabrics are over. Thankfully.
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If you had to pee, you could have just pulled aside the crotch. You would have peed on your hand, of course, but still… Please don’t ask how I know I know this.
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Stories like this make me cringe at the things my 15 yr old daughter will experience over the next few years!
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I hope this gave you some guidance as to the “leaving the house without a bra” dilemna. Then again, I would assume a dad would never allow that to happen. Hopefully.
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As a good father I make my best effort to avoid at all costs, conversations and situations involving bras, tampons, etc. etc. etc…
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Hi Cowboy. Oh, if you get uncomfortable talking about girlie stuff you have to see this from Liz McLennan today! Hilarious! Seriously. It’s about how Liz handled her son’s bloody nose. 😉 http://lifewithbellymonster.blogspot.com/2013/05/things-with-wings-and-other-tales.html
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Hilarious! Thank goodness for quick thinking!
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Good, right? Soooo much easier with boys.
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God, me too, Steve! The horror!
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Oh geez. Awful. I remember those well. I must be older than you – because the onesies were big when I was in college. Try that one on for size. Awful. Thanks for sharing. Sorry your boobs were slightly exposed at your mom’s insistance. 😉
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I was a senior, so not too much older. I still had a few in college, I believe.
Yeah, mom really let me down with the parental advice here. Then again, the non-fashionable apple didn’t fall too far from the tree, ya know? And it wasn’t the first, and wouldn’t be the last time, her advice wasn’t stellar. Took me too long to realize that.
Then again, I had nice boobs, so ya know, it all works out! 😉
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At least you HAD boobs. Sheesh! SOME of us were not so lucky. Some of us had to wait until our sophomore year in college. 😉
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I was an athlete (swimmer), very low maintenance in HS in the early 80’s. I wore barely there bras. Unbeknownst to me, I was always “very cold” and was bestowed the nickname “Freezer Queen”. I finally learned of it near the end of senior year… I bought some new bras with a little bit of padding after that. However, that still didn’t stop the football players who were my supposed friends from yelling “Freezer Queen” when I went up to get my diploma. *heavy sigh of embarrassment*
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Madge: Misty wants me to let you know that she responded to your comment…but in the wrong place. If you’d like to come back to look at what she said, come back and you’ll see her words under mine! 😉 I can fix most things, but not everything.
That said, had I been in her house, I probably would have suggested Misty put on one of those cute ripped up sweatshirts like everyone wore when FLASHDANCE was all the rage and everyone wanted to look like Jennifer Beals.
(I wouldn’t have wanted to have been upstaged by her fabulous rack.)
I mean, I would have had her best interests at heart.
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Yeah, a padded bra is a girl’s best friend. But your “friends” were huge douches. Sorry about that. 😦 Thanks for sharing your boob related embarrassment! I don’t feel so alone anymore.
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I had NO boobs. At my 20 year reunion, people actually asked if mine were real. They wanted to touch them. I’m not kidding.
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Must have one of those leotard thingies!
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As you can see from above, they are a smashing fashion statement!
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I am sure you can find them on eBay for $2.
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I think it was your “boyfriend” who was the boob there. Any boyfriend worth his salt would have kept his yap shut and just enjoyed the view, then maybe, eventually, whispered something in your ear.
After he made his comment at the party, your response should have been, “Hope you enjoyed it because that’s all you’ll ever see of THESE!”
(I can also vouch for the fact that Misty is a real person. Can’t say I can prove that’s her real name though. Perhaps her name is something like “Theodora” and she goes by “Miss T.”)
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He was indeed a huge boob! And unfortunately, that wasn’t actually the last time. I was young and stupid, what can I say?
Damnit, Bluz!! You figured it out. But it’s actually Theophania. Shhhh, don’t tell!
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I was kind of thinking about that, too. I can’t believe he didn’t stick up for you. What a dork.
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While I assume *hangs head in shame* that I’m much older than you, I do remember those things, particularly my first year in college (the shirs, not the boobs). The ladies called them body suits I think. The first time I experienced one was in the middle of trying to coax a tightly tucked in shirt out of a pair of jeans. It turns out it wasn’t a shirt, but a body suit. I was flummoxed! What the deuce!? How?, why?, oh, well, nevermind then. Out of frustration, I left her in the bedroom with her stupid ass body suit and carried on my torrid love making via three way with a red solo cup and the keg in the living room. Man, those were fun days.
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I’m pretty sure you aren’t that much older than me. And yes, body suits! That was what they were called. I like “onesies” better though, because it really demonstrates the ridiculousness of the apparatus.
And yeah, that would be a tough one. I have no idea how guys would get around that. It was like some sort of safe that you had to figure out the combination to. Those things were no bueno for sexy time, indeed.
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But if you did manage to get the buttons undone, you were all green lights to happy town!! Lol. Now that I’ve raised babies, you’re right. They totally were onesies. Creepy.
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Hahahaha! 😉
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Oh. My. Wow. My mom may have been crazy, but she would never have let me go out without a bra on. But then again, I may have been ok. Boys in my school said my boobs were concave.
Thanks for sharing your story, Misty! I totally stole one of my sister’s snap leotards and wore it school, but it was also when bib overalls were popular, so they were hidden under that. Man, when is grunge going to come back?!
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My mom was special. Still is. I don’t ask her for advice any more.
Oh, the bib overall days. My hubs STILL thinks that’s a sexy look. And no, I haven’t filed divorce papers yet. He still has a couple strikes left.
And yes to the grunge! That was my best look. Sexy tousled hair, tank top under unbuttoned flannel shirt, and jeans? So comfy as well. And now I need to go listen to my Pearl Jam disks . . .
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Wanna have a movie date and watch Singles?
*Na na na na…na na na na na na…I got a dyslexic heart!*
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You’re on. As long as we can have a movie marathon . . . gotta add Reality Bites and Empire Records for a 90’s grunge trifecta of cinematic classics!
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I own them both. On VHS.
*Say no more, Mon Amour!*
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I think I just fell in love with you a little bit.
Oh Rexy, you’re so sexy! 😉
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We could play U2’s “All I Want is You” and share a box of tissues together.
P.S. “Hm…PFLAG…I’m beGINning to like the sound of that.”
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Yeah, pretty sure we can go back and forth doing this all day. Hope you didn’t have anything else important to do.
And I’ll have you know that once you got that Paul Westerberg earworm firmly implanted in my noggin, I had to hear the song again . . . and I’ve been spending the last half hour listening to the Singles soundtrack! Have I mentioned how much I love you yet?
“Don’t bogart that can . . . MAN.”
“Will you two just DO IT and get it over with . . . I’m starving!”
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Oh, please go back and forth all day. All. Day. I double-dog dare you. 😉
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Be careful what you wish for Renz! This is much more entertaining than this damn docket I’m supposed to be working up right now. Because, alas, I AM truly a lawyer. Boo.
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Do you two not know each other? You NEED to know each other. Also, you need to get a room. 😉
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Renee, do you want to come to our slumber party?
And Misty, I own the Singles soundtrack too!
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Only if I can bring my diary.
*weep*
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This party needs to move to Twitter! Misty, how do I find you?
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Oooh, let’s braid each other’s hair and have pillow fights!!
Jess . . . me, too. It’s actually in my car right now. But I’m sitting in my stupid office trying to do “work,” so I had to get a little help from my buddy Mr. Tube. We’re close, so I get to call him You.
“I nearly lost you . . .”
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Jess – you would have to look REALLY hard to find me on Twitter.
Because I’m not on there. Sorry. 😦
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Damn the man! Save the Empire!
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((slow clap))
Please envision me giggling like Mark watching himself being devoured by GWAR on TV.
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Jess . . . I miss you already. It’s been AGES since we talked.
Did I come on too strong?
Is it because of the lack of Twitter?
“Are my breasts too small for you?”
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Bahaha! I miss you too Misty. Sorry, I was out filming my documentary about the modern day plight of 90’s young adults. The answer is…
PIZZA!
P.S. I followed your blog now. We will become besties, I am sure.
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This was definitely worthy of Renee’s So Wrong series. I was right there with you, MIsty. Mainly because I did something similar, I went bra-less during a chorus concert. My mom bought me a beautiful off-the-should white dress and I thought the bra straps would show so….But, it wasn’t really cold that day and no guy yelled at me to show him my boobs. Boys. (shaking head) And girls– typical your friend TOLD them why you were wearing a coat.
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Yeah, it was a good night for companions all around.
Oh boy, a WHITE dress? Yikes. At least people pretended they couldn’t see your boobs. You had GOOD friends, apparently.
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Well, either that or they just snickered behind my back. Or I didn’t have boobs to begin with. (I’ll go with that last one)
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Probably behind your back. That’s what real friends do, damnit! 😉
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I am so bitter! I can’t believe all of you had boobs! What the hells bells is going on! Was I the ONLY absolutely flat-chested girl in all of high-school? I mean, even at graduation? I don’t even think people could have told if I was nipping out. Seriously, so flat.
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Oh, I remember those onesies, no idea why they were so popular. Years after they went out of style, I reminisced (my new word for the day) about them and the awkward peeing. That’s when she told me that you can just pull them aside…Why I never thought of that!. 😉
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I distinctly remember many a pee pee dance trying to unsnap those things while also not peeing on myself. Oh yes, good times. I never did the pull aside thing, either! Never even thought of it. Now I know. Didn’t help me back then, though.
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I had to start wearing a bra when I was in 5th grade!! While other girls felt jealous of me, I dreaded it. Especially since boys loved to snap my bra all the time! Maybe I should have gone bra-less! Funny Post! 🙂
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I was a late bloomer, but when I bloomed . . . let’s just say that no bra was not an option. I really should have known better.
And I think the braless option would have garnered MORE attention from those boys. Then again, less stinging from the snaps, so maybe a toss up?
Thanks!
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A bra in 5th grade?! Omigosh! I went bra shopping in 7th grade with my two friends. To cover my flat-boyishness. So I could have bra-straps. Sooooo sad. Misty, my girls didn’t show up until college. COLLEGE. People thought I’d paid for implants at my 20th high school reunion. How do I know this? One guy flat out asked me. #TrueStory
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That’s like my sister! She begged and begged for her girls to show up and when they did, they showed up with a vengeance and in fact, ended up having to have a breast reduction as an adult. Who knew?? 🙂
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You would not have been out of place in the mid to late 1960’s. You were just born a few years too late. 🙂
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I always felt that I was born too late. I would have been an excellent flower child. And nobody would have thought twice about me twirling around without a bra in ’69. They would have been all burnt up at that point anyway!
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Too true. Having seen the entire flower child movement but not being a participant was interesting. A clear head sees many wonders. 🙂
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I would have been a fabulous flower chid, too! I didn’t NEED a bra until I was in my 20s. I loved to twirl in circles in long flowing skirts with flowers in my hair. Also, I can make draw great peace signs! Alas, that innocence will never return.
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Too funny!
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Thanks!
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what’s #sowrong is that photo … wowzers. I am also curious about why a teenage “boyfriend” wasn’t the happiest guy on earth to have his date showing her boobs?? Makes ya wonder, if ya know what I mean ..
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I DO know what you mean, but unless he was SERIOUSLY overcompensating for his as yet unrevealed gayness, I’m pretty sure he was the straightest straight guy every to straight. He slept with practically every skank in the entire state . . . while we were dating. Yeah. And he let it go without comment for a while, so I’m sure he was enjoying the view until he could take no more of my cattiness. Or something. I don’t know, he was a huge dick is the moral of the story, really.
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Sounds like he may have had a huge dick as well. Unfortunate, really.
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Oh, and as to his size . . . I do not recall it being larger than average. Then again, at that point I didn’t have much to compare it to. But, I don’t remember feeling, um overburdened with his manhood.
There was a wager. Between him and a friend. As to number of conquests over a period of time. That he won. And I didn’t discover until much much later. He was very special indeed.
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ahaaaa … those ones do burn into the memory a little stronger than the others. Mine has the bluest eyes you have ever seen. Through Six Degrees of Separation, I hear that his wife will not tolerate speech of my existence, to this day. Ha ha. That’s my joy. It did matter.
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Mine sticks because I consider him a learning experience. In so many ways. The only positive things I got out of that relationship (except for life lessons……so, so many lessons) were a purloined Pink Floyd Tie-Dyed tour T-shirt and a love for Led Zeppelin. I actually don’t think of him often. It was long ago. Over 20 years. And holy crap, now I feel old.
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The one I’m referring to is from that long ago … unfortunately, we still run in the same circles and (via the internet) I am reminded. It doesn’t much matter but I am reminded more often that I would be without the world of Facebook.
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Guys ALWAYS cave when it comes to chanting. They can’t help it.
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I just nominated you for the Dragon’s Loyalty Award today! http://nikitaland.wordpress.com/2013/05/17/dragons-loyalty-award/
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Hilarious story! And to think your MOM suggested you go bra-less. My mom would have suggested 2 bras, not none! Toooooooo funny. 😆
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Thanks, Lily!! And yeah, if it was MY kid, I would require a fully padded sleeping bag coat over top everything. Even in the summer! 😉
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RFOL I too remember those dang things. I had one that was lime green and looked like a shirt. And when the snaps were snapped it was stretched so tight that my almost nonexistent boobs disappeared completely.
Now why did you have to remind me of that, Misty? It really was a memory that I would have preferred to keep suppressed forever. 🙂
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Well, I couldn’t keep ALL of this misery to myself, now could I? 😉
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Oh, my! I remember snap leotard shirts (of course the only ones I wore with the snaps were the spandex-y ones. I always figured they had the snaps to keep them from rolling up the very high waistlines of our jeans/pants). Fortunately I never had that kind of clothing malfunction in my teen years. My only issue is that I’m especially “perky” and preferred the sexy demi cups. Regardless of how high the neckline was, something was always poking out. 😉
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Oh you foxy, busty momma! I think those fashion items were called body suits in my day. Can’t get much more comfy than sitting on snaps. So funny remembering back to when it was unthinkable to have bra straps showing, when now it seems almost required, or certainly not an issue to be concerned with.
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Yes, body suits. That was what they were called. Bra straps are all the rage now, but back then it was verboten.
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LMAO Misty!
RE the picture…. I’m thinking less of a penis and more of a Vienna sausage. (just saying)
Having never worn a bra, I can’t say much about that experience. I do, however, get perky-male-pointers fairly often. I could probably cut glass with those things during the winter.
I don’t have too many boob-related embarrassments. 😉
There must be a “jackass gene” that prompts noodle-slinging idiots to have those kinds of contests. Proud to not have that gene.
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Thank you for not having that gene. But sorry about the glass cutting nips. Maybe try a bra? Or a mansierre? 😉
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Oh my. Bless your heart. 🙂
But really, I can sympathize. I once had to wear my coat all day at work because I forgot to put in a bra.
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*on*
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Shazzam! I’ve been waiting for this all day! The 20,000th comment on my blog! Thank you, Michelle! I was HOPING it was going to happen on my blogoversary, but you can’t have everything.
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Yay!! I feel super special! And congratulations to you on 20,000 comments!
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Wow. 20,000!! Congrats, Renee. That is super fantastic.
Oh, and Michelle . . . I’ve been told that southern ladies use the phrase “bless your heart” to actually mean F%&# you. You aren’t from the south, are you? Oh no, are you one of the people I was making fun of at the wrestling match? I am so sorry. Am I forgiven?
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Hahaha! I am sort of from the south, since I’m from Virginia. But I live just outside of DC, so it’s hard to tell around here. But we get to be southern bitchy when we feel like it (of the bless her heart variety) and northern bitchy when we feel like it (which is much more straightforward).
I meant it in a kinder way, for sure!! More along the lines of “you poor thing, how embarrassing…and although I’m kind of laughing at you in my head, I feel bad about it”. And if I’d been there, you would have made fun of me for sure, because I have absolutely no fashion sense whatsoever. And I didn’t have 80’s big hair, but it was permed or feathered most of the time. No forgiveness necessary 🙂
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I was flat chested but felt a need to wear a bra sometimes. (that was padded.)
Years later I found out the boys betted when I would wear my padded bra.
Can you imagine how embarrassed when I found out. Boys do the darnest things! ( P>S>I am proud to be your 20,001 comment Renee.)
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Oh no, that’s horrible! Boys suck, huh?
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Wow! 20,000 comments! I think about half of them are on this post, aren’t they?
Congrats, Renee. 😀
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Yikes! What a story, Misty! The thing is, even though I have always enjoyed fashion and Glamour’s “dos and don’ts” was pretty much my bible during my twenties, I, too, had more than my fair share of fashion faux pas during high school. Thankfully I never had any boys make such rude remarks, but I did have a friend make the comment, “boy, I can’t believe how big Dawn’s ass is!” while I was sporting a favorite pair of pinstripe baggy jeans (hey, it was the ’80’s and I TOLD you I committed some fashion crimes). Anyway, the only thing I can say about that is these days said friend weighs about 60 lbs more than I do (because, while I may have been what some considered “chunky” in high school, I still weigh exactly the same – 30 years later, which is now considered thin). So, ha ha. Betch. But, I digress…
Boobs. Yep, I had ’em. Had ’em since 5th grade (sorry, Renee. But, trust me, it’s not something I enjoyed. At. All.) Cute tube tops or sundresses or most bikinis (I grew up in Florida so all of these items were top of the list of most teen girl wardrobes) were not an option for me. Which is probably why I learned to be more selective and creative in my fashion choices. Oh, well.
Thanks for sharing your story in such an entertaining way, Misty!
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Dawn! It’s soooooo true! I used to want li’l booblets. Just like a handful. Um, when mine came in, they came in. I’m all about underwire and decompression and LIFT these days. Le sigh. Again, the lesson being — be careful what you wish for. 😉
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Oh man, I remember those baggy jeans. EVERYONE’s ass was huge in those things. And karma sure is a bitch, huh? My best friend in HS, who turned out to be a rotten friend, gained a bunch of weight as well, which gave me an unfortunate amount of glee. Yeah, maybe I’m still a little horrible. Oops.
Thanks!
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Boobs. Who among my gender could have known they’d been so perilous to own and manage?
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It’s my understanding that you guys had your own points to manage, 1point. (IYKWIM)
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Yes indeed. The thought of being called up to do a math problem on the board was particularly scary in grades 5 through…well, pretty much until the current day. Fortunately, math problems don’t figure into my days too much anymore and blackboards are only found in antique shops.
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I heard of these tales of woe. Especially from my one dear friend, Woody. So…
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Yeah, your gender spent more time trying to handle them, than worrying about the owner’s dealings with them. But like Renee said, you guys were dealing with your own issues. Everyone has their balls to bare.
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Speaking of my early forays into boob management, I wonder how the young lads are fairing these days – it must be tough for them. Boys of my generation had the knobs and dials on TV’s to practice on before moving on to the real deal. My guess is the young pups are poking at them like they’re iPads – poor misguided things!
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Whether twisting like nobs or poking like iPads, boys of every era pretty much get it wrong at first. The only solution is repeated practice on the real thing.
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Oh, this is sooo funny. Sometimes I think our parents sabotage us so we never leave them, and in other cases, so we leave them sooner. You could have used a dose of “Who cares? At least I got nice boobs” that maybe presented itself in your twenties?
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Yep, I definitely developed that trait later. But at 17, I was probably at my most insecure, so notwithstanding my lovely and perky breastages, I was not pleased at the attention nor ridicule.
And I couldn’t get away from my mom fast enough. There was a horrifying 3 months in my early 20s where I was forced to move back in with my parents. I refer to that time as Auschwitz.
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And once again, comment reply FAIL. This previous comment was in response to about100percent, FYI.
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Horribly funny! What a great, painful story so well told. What does your mom have to say for herself?
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And you’ll never make that mistake with your kids…except you have boys…so…I guess they’ll never go commando.
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Nobody ever noticed if I went without a bra.
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Same here. Well, until they came in.
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Mine would only come in if I had a wad of cash and a skilled surgeon. Which I don’t.
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No offense to those who roll that way, but did boyfriend turn out to be gay? That’s the only reason I can think of that he wasn’t absolutely THRILLED that you showed up with your boobs hanging out.
Funny and mortifying. I always say, whatever doesn’t kill us gives great blog fodder.
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I’ve only just got round to seing this post. As I’ve been in Chilly England, and have now returned to Freezing France, the mere thought of going anywhere without being engulfed in a duvet and lots and lots of pairs of socks is unthinkable. Especially if the alternative is a leotard with embarrassing buttons. Now I KNOW why I avoided this ever-so-dubious fashion faux-pas. Great post!
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Funny, right? And yours is coming up next week! Can’t wait!
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Just read this and all of the hilarious comments. I wonder what all of those guys said about me in my Speedo all those years. Working out in icy water doesn’t exactly, um, do much for the issue you’re discussing here. Our racing suits just kept getting thinner and skimpier…
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