Dear Fancy Lingerie Brands,
My name is Nadine von Cohen and I’m a writer from Sydney, Australia. Charmed, I’m sure. I am writing to you today to address a few concerns about your fancy lingerie products, namely bras.
Firstly let me say that many of you do wonderful things with fabric and underwire and straps and hooks, helping the breasts of the world feel good and look great. From Otto Titsling’s invention of the over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder (FUCK YEAH BEACHES REFERENCE!) to the many and varied cuts of the present day, you have made great gains in your quest to support and flatter the chesty appendages of women persons. I particularly enjoy what you have done with texture and colour, and must also applaud your commitment to the proliferation of polkadots in modern society.
But unfortunately that’s where my plaudits end.
So, I have big boobs. I have really big boobs. Like, back pain inducing big boobs. Like, it-hurts-to-jog-even-with-two-sports-bras-on big boobs. You get the point. OR DO YOU? HUH? Anyway, without revealing my actual size – a lady never reveals such things, and I am a fucking lady – let’s just say I have a big cup/small back size combination that makes buying bras difficult and buying beautiful and/or sexy bras near impossible. And quite frankly I’m angry. Or, to quote my late mother in her most impressive moments of guilt-parenting: I’m disappointed.
We live in a society in which large breasts are celebrated, coveted and available for purchase by anyone with a credit card and a permission note from their parents. A society in which cleavage has been sexualised to the point of stupidity, making even public breastfeeding a contentious issue even though, well, that’s just plain stupid. The advertising, media and entertainment industries are bursting with bosoms, making many women feel less than perfect for having anything less than a handful (atop a rakishly thin frame, of course). Big boobs are obsessed over by both men and women – and so they fucking should be, but perhaps in more respectful, non-fetishised way – and yet those of us un/fortunate(?) enough to have em are forced to stuff them into boring, ugly, boner-killing bras for lack of many better options.
I long to wear the type of luxurious, sexy, even cute bras worn by my less-endowed friends, but sadly when I visit the undergarment section of any store there are generally about three bras for me to choose from and two of them give me cone-boob. This is certainly a marked improvement on years past, when “grandma” was the one and only style available to busty broads the world over, but there’s still a long way to go. Even most of you that claim to cater to my needs make brassieres more ill fitting than Serena van der Woodsen’s skirts. And what’s with all the fucking beige? Would it kill you to make more than the odd token bra with cups greater than ‘D’ that could be described as anything other than “comfortable”, “supportive” or “practical”? And don’t even get me started on matching sets!
Why do you hate me, Fancy Lingerie Brands? What did I ever do to you? Did a gnarly-knockered woman kill your pet rabbit? Were you bottle-fed and boob-starved as a baby? Did your parents listen to too much Dolly Parton? Whatever your reasons for lagging behind in the bra design department (i.e. your very purpose for existing), I suggest you get over it fast. The breasts of the world are getting bigger, and women of all shapes and sizes are growing/acquiring them. Specialist stores with fantastically punny names like Storm in a D Cup and More than a Handful do a wonderful job of attempting to cater to the mammarific market, and brands such as Freya, Fayreform and Pleasure State are starting to fill the void, but don’t you think it’s time the rest of you caught up?
Best,
Nadine von Cohen
