Brassieres, Bustiers, Merry Widows, shoulder boulder holders, and other nonsense

When my grandmothers became adolescents with the attendant development of breasts the social policy was that breasts should be suppressed.  They wore a chemise that did nothing to elevate the breast.  Then they wore dresses that also constrained the breast.  Breasts were intended only as providers of food to nourish new life.

My father once told me that "decent women" did not get pregnant.  They were "in a delicate condition," or "a family way."  This is true...I mean, I couldn't even make this stuff up. My grandmothers were born on the heels of the Victorian era.  That was a time when women went into "confinement."  Confinement was the last few months of being "in a delicate condition."  You were confined to your home.  The reason for this was that it was considered indecent to be seen in public in that condition.  When you went in public it exposed people to the vulgar activity that created pregnancy.  (Not my words...words from that era).

By the time that I developed breasts in 1968 times had changed RADICALLY.  Thank heavens in many ways, no thanks in others.  The bullet bra became popular shortly before I achieved adolescence.  In case you are unaware, human female breasts are NOT pointed.  The only reason that I can imagine that a bullet bra was created was that somebody that adored German opera (with the lead woman wearing armor on her chest that had pointed breasts, and a hat with horns, thankfully the hat with horns never caught on in regular fashion).   

My sister was six years older than me.  I began my breastal years by wearing one of her hand me downs.  The bras NEVER fit.  I was embarrassed as one of the first girls in school to need a bra.  A few times somebody accidentally poked me in the boob, and the bullet bra would stay inward.  To a very shy young girl, that was mortifying!

I was grateful when I went backwards from the bullet model to a "training bra."  I don't believe that my breasts needed any training.  It seriously felt as though I went to sleep one night and woke up the next morning and lo and behold....I HAD BREASTS!  UGH!  What is a tomboy who played with all the neighborhood boys, war, tree house, kick the can...etc. etc. supposed to do with that?

In the summer there was a group of us, about seven boys, and one me.  We would play for most of the day.  We played Army, Cowboys and Indians (I preferred to be the Indian), kick the can, tree fort...etc. etc.  At dinner time we would each go home to our separate abode.  One night when I returned to the group after dinner there were seven young boys (around my age) staring at my chest.  One of them pointed an accusatory finger and said, "You wear a BRA!"

Those words rang in my ears as I ran to my home in tears.  I cried myself to sleep that night.  That was the very last time that I played with the group.  There is a country western song called, "Oh How I Wish I Were a Little Boy Again."  I respect and honor that some dear folks are born struggling with gender identity.  That is a totally different subject than I am discussing.

At eighteen I performed in summerstock theater.  The female members of the cast wore a "Merry Widow."  That is actually a long line strapless bra.  In other words, a bra/corset combo.  I have no idea where the name "Merry Widow," came from.  I'm a widow now, and trust me, it does NOT make me feel merry.

I fed our daughters with my breasts.  I remember, during this time, going to sleep a 34 B+ and waking up a 40D.  My husband looked over and said, "Good grief, the Titty Fairy came in the night!"

At thirty-four I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  I had two lumpectomies, and radiation.  The radiologists did not warn me not to wear an underwire bra.  Honestly, there is another torture device, a "push-up" bra.  We have gone from compressing our breasts to make them as invisible as possible, to an era when we force them into perky and upright positions.  I kept wearing my underwire.  That held the heat of the radiation in, which permanently burned the tissue under my breast.  I have not been able to wear a bra comfortably since.  I have tried every bra known to mankind.  Even the bras that are made for women with breast cancer hurt.

Am I going to be sorry to see my breasts go away?  Yes and no.  I have had these appendages hanging from me for FIFTY YEARS!  That's a lots of time.   I'm used to them, they are part of my anatomy.

Having said that they are part of my anatomy, the left one is now a TWO TIMER.  I've never been patient with two timing of any type. The right one has evidence of a currently benign tumor.  Benign tumors can become malignant.  So....good-bye to bras, merry widow, and cancerous breasts.  I WILL adapt!