I could just email the Shill–expert in all matters mammary–but then I wouldn’t have anything to write about this evening and I thought some of you could use some reassurance that all my problems are not just psychological.
Okay, so I have some boobs, obviously. Here’s one; it’s the one covered in tye-die, for those of you who need visual aids.
And I have some bras, none of which I like that much because I have slopey shoulders and so I’m always fighting with the straps. Also, I slouch at work, which means that, when I stand up, I have two big red smiles, one under each tit. I don’t like that. But also annoying is that the underwire, where it meets in the front, tends to stick out after a while. All of my bras start out with underwires that look like happy “u”s and end up looking like mangled corkscrews.
But this is not my complaint today.
Here’s what’s bothering me, America. This morning, in the shower, I found dead skin in the fold of my boobs. I don’t think it’s raw or anything. It doesn’t hurt, but it occurs to me that I’ve never looked at the underside of my boobs. I could have a large rash there and never know it.
Okay, I just checked in the bathroom and I don’t have any horrible disfigurments, but it does look kind of dry under there. Is it just the weather? Is my skin too dry? Too damp? Should I start lotioning or powdering? Do I need new bras? To stop wearing bras? Now, I’m worried that it might smell funny.
Maybe I should have asked the disgruntled folks who were walking out of The Devil’s Rejects if one of them would be so kind as to sniff my under-boob before they left.
in all of your fondling of your own boobs, publiclly and privately, you’ve never made it to the undersides? How can that be? Don’t you at least do monthly self-exams for lumps? I am getting very worried about you. Oh yeah, how’s your ear feeling?
Woman, I said I’ve never seen the undersides of them. Not that I’d never been there. Obviously, I keep track of what’s going on with them, or I would not have noticed the dry skin in the first place.
But yes, there are a great many places on my body I cannot see without the aid of a mirror. The spot where the bottom of my tits meets my rib cage is one of them.
Your breasts must be larger than mine or you would have no trouble seeing the underside of your boob without help. And the more I’ve thought about breasts the more I’ve come to realize that there is no ideal breast and that bras were designed by men in the first place so they don’t really help that much.
Ah, bras. Can’t live with’em, can’t live without ’em. My life with boobs was helped enormously when I started spending more money on a really good bra in the right size. Amazing the difference it makes.
My life with boobs! Twyla, that’s a great phrase. Surely there must be a blog of that name somewhere! And yet, a google search turns up nothing.