Friday, August 26, 2011

Why Having Little Boobies is Fantabulous!

I have little boobs. 

Yeah, I’m not too vain to admit it. But maybe you are. And if so, you may be so vain that you probably think this post is about you. But anywho…my ta-tas are small…less than a handful, slightly larger than mosquito bites. No competition for even the bourgeois orange, never mind a mighty melon.

Those grapes in the front there?
Yeah. Kinda like that.
As for the bananas…that is a whole different post gals!

Now when I was pregnant the story was different. But then again, so was my belly so that doesn’t count. And even now as I struggle to lose – yet again – the baby weight that so swiftly found a home on my ass, on my thighs, around my middle – my bosom is certainly not in proportion to the rest of me.  Sometimes I think to myself – or say out loud to strangers at the coffee shop – “if only I could trade my butt for my bust the world would be a better place!” But really…let’s take a closer look at this shall we?

You want a picture? 

Didn’t your mother ever tell you to use your frickin’ imagination girlfriend?!?!!

I don’t really get mens’ fascination – and therefore our preoccupation – with breasts. I mean, they are jiggly mounds of fat and glands that are really there to provide babies with nourishment.  And how awesome is that – that we can feed our babies with our own bodies? Well…it is awesome until they crack and bleed and your little bundle of joy and frustration refuses to latch on. And you don’t sleep. And you know you need to be ready in the morning and move like the Energizer Bunny all full of zest and smiles and songs about wheels on the bus.

I sing this song 547 time a day. Approximately.

But I digress…

Today, (well a few days ago when I actually wrote this!)... is hot. And I am not talkin’ lying-on-a-tropical-beach-nice-breeze-blowing-through-the-air-as-you-sip-on-a-Peña-Colada hot.

I am talkin’ walking-through-the-Sahara-desert-hot-clothes-sticking-to-your-bra-glued-to-your-body-streams-of-sweat-pouring-down-your-cleavage- making-you-feel-like-a-walking-talking-soaked-sewer-rat hot.
Like...really hot. this. Sexy!

And guess what? I am not wearing a bra! I don’t have cleavage! My sundress straps stand alone without those extra ones poking through as if to say “Yes, I must wear a boulder holder because I have coveted big boobs.”
OK, I caved. This is me.
Pretty fierce, no?

While I may require shorts in a size that hurts me to admit (so I won’t – because hey – I don’t wear shorts anyway), my top half is pretty darn easy to dress. I can go strapless without searching for that uncomfortable strapless bra that won’t keep the priorities straight and I have confidence that I will never, ever be mistaken for a stripper.

These are all good things. Oh how Martha Stewart would be proud. She is proud of me a lot these days.

So if you are like me and your t-shirt could have a picture of a house on it that reads “Little House on the Prairie”, take heart. You are fantabulous.  And cute.  And lucky.

This is Laura. I am Lora. Laura could live in a little house on my chest.

So don’t pout. 

Paris Hilton is flat too. And she pouts enough for the rest of us.

Small boobs. "That's hot." Small lips? Apparently not.



  1. I loved it.. Thank you for making me laugh here in the office! xo @witteeme

  2. :) LOVE this bravo for not being shamed to be "smaller" - I too don't have a big bust so totally can relate! I admit sometimes I can be self concious having the world around shoving "Big boobs = beauty" in everyones face sometimes but we have to remind ourselves that beauty is within the heart and soul - we may not have much in our bras but inside our hearts are huge ;)

  3. Your beautiful face and smile is much more worth than having some overvalued boobs ;) Or do you want that the guys only look on two not important body parts instead of your pretty eyes?