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kyburgSeanan hits one out of the park again. (She does that on a regular basis - no, go on over there and see if I'm lying.)
This is one of those 'nod and smile' subjects for me, though.
Because I could buy a rib brace from Duro-Med (no, go ahead and buy the male one, it's cheaper and it won't matter) and do just as well.
Talk about it all you want - I may be female, but as far as looking 'feminine?' I guess I don't.
I have no tits.
No, no - don't make me fell better about it. I've been here a while, so I know how this song goes. That line from A Chorus Line - "SHIT! Made it through high school without growing tits!" Uh huh. *raises hand*
I can remember wishing I had underwear that didn't lie flat when you folded it up. At that point, you didn't do surgery - plastic surgery was restricted to repairing injuries You Didn't Talk About and to the face. Mastectomies were *just* being talked out in open conversation, and oh what a tragedy THEY were. The shame!
There were creams, pills, exercises (we must, we must increase our bust!) and other stupidity. Thankfully, I was bright enough to see right through the whole mess - I mean, I'm a biokid - I had relatives who also had no tits, so if any of this stuff ever worked? Dude - Mom would have been *right there* with it at age 13, telling me how it worked.
I got The Talk at nine, for crying out loud. By the time I was 14, I was completely fed up with the whole growing up thing - it just wasn't coming together here.
Let me tell you. Hidden Playboy magazines? Fascinating. I'd never seen anyone who ever looked like that. Both the girls and the boys I played with growing up were just as intrigued - even though the boys claimed we could 'just look at ourselves, sheesh' - none of us had ever dreamed that was under the clothes and stuff. Look at ourselves, right - we laughed in their faces. I had all of Mom's nursing journals to read - and I did, though she found it odd that I would (I knew far more about caring for post-op choleostomy patients than any teen should, for example) - and there were pictures, once in a while. Barbie had a doll's body, and I never equated that with reality - I never knew anyone who looked like that, who couldn't figure that out? A doll's a doll, come on.
I'm also straight. There was the obligatory locker room experiences in junior high and high school, but outside of 'oh shit DON'T LOOK that's RUDE,' I haven't seen tits. I tend to look more closely at times at costume design because frankly? How the HECK does that work?
It's not a matter of hating your body. You don't have tits and you claim to be female, you're going to get told very matter of factly that the world doesn't have a place for you, and/or just outright pities you and is going to give you adaptive equipment as a matter of course. I've been this tall and 96 pounds, and then at another time in my life, 183 pounds. When you're still wondering if you're not an A cup either way? You have no tits and nothing is going to fit you without padding. Oh yes, the padding.
Would you like gel, foam or air? I think it was Ann Landers who said you needed a bra if you could support a pencil under your breasts. If you can't, well - you're a girl, aren't you? Here, fake it. No, really. This is what you're supposed to look like.
Yes, they think underwires help. What, I have no idea. When everything rides up to your collarbone, you can imagine the rest. There was a stint where the fashion was looking like you weren't wearing a bra - and believe it or not, they sold Mom on it! Here's something without a cup and only a few seams! A bra! But don't tell anyone! Sheeyit.
Nobody works for fashion like good foundation garments anyway. Everyone knows you're faking it, come on. Whole family, guys. No tits. Wonderbras. Wonder no longer. I tried one on, looked down and laughed. Then bought another sports bra. That kind of stuff just doesn't apply here. (I wonder what people think who wear thong underwear - because that's the only thing I can equate it to. Here's some firm, hard elastic straps to wrap around your chest REALLY TIGHT. Now, who can't behind that? Um.)
Corsets? Well, I guess you might be able to turn my chest into a shelf, but how appealing is that? It kind of reminds of those chinese finger puzzles - or a pencil in traction. So while I could wear one? Boy, that's a pretty piece of engineering gone to waste. Go spend the $$ on a girl with something to shape.
I have microcalcifications in my right chest wall. Note, I don't say breast - because trying to do a mammogram? Take the ball of your thumb, there at the base at your palm? Flatten that. There's nothing to shoot film of. But I guess I have all the appropriate structures. I got my baseline at age 35. Bully for me. I have all of the risk factors everyone with tits has for breast cancer - and the techs just hate doing my films. "This might hurt more for you than the average person." Well, since I've never been average, that's helpful for you, missie doodle. I'll try not to cross my eyes or scream. The first time, we must have shot twelve films.
"You've got a dancer's body." "So cute and gamine!" I can shop in the boys department, and don't think I won't. Much cheaper over there, y'know. That really cute strapless dress? Mom once told me about a dress she wore in high school they sewed elastic in at the top so it wouldn't fall down. Elastic. In a strapless dress. Like, pull up pants elastic. I've had exactly two of them. One of them required a specific - you got it - foundation garment that allowed it to stay up. (Maybe I should have gone with the rib brace and some baby pins.) The last one, I had enough underwear on I couldn't bend over and breathe at the same time. Pass.
Anything that ever had a bustline, had padding. That includes swimsuits. Go ahead, you wear a couch cushion in the water. Be my guest. I buy one piece suits with all the sex appeal of a tube sock. Bite me. I can get wet and not lose my mind.
Because here comes the truly annoying part - you don't have tits, you're going to be strongly encouraged, walked into it, talked into it, forced into it - because you want to be a girl, don't you? You're not gay, are you? Or worse yet - trans. "You're built like a boy, what a shame!"
Like my bust is going to determine THAT. *eyeroll*
Now you know why so many people sewed silicone bags into their chests. And still do.
I get envious of people who can wear girly things - at times. I listen to a lot of tit-related issues, and can be appropriately sympathetic because I do, after all, have a good imagination.
But the old Playtex commercials? Lift, separate and all that? No idea what you're talking about, no direct experience to speak from.
I can wear a kimono like nobody's business, though. No padding required.
This is one of those 'nod and smile' subjects for me, though.
Because I could buy a rib brace from Duro-Med (no, go ahead and buy the male one, it's cheaper and it won't matter) and do just as well.
Talk about it all you want - I may be female, but as far as looking 'feminine?' I guess I don't.
I have no tits.
No, no - don't make me fell better about it. I've been here a while, so I know how this song goes. That line from A Chorus Line - "SHIT! Made it through high school without growing tits!" Uh huh. *raises hand*
I can remember wishing I had underwear that didn't lie flat when you folded it up. At that point, you didn't do surgery - plastic surgery was restricted to repairing injuries You Didn't Talk About and to the face. Mastectomies were *just* being talked out in open conversation, and oh what a tragedy THEY were. The shame!
There were creams, pills, exercises (we must, we must increase our bust!) and other stupidity. Thankfully, I was bright enough to see right through the whole mess - I mean, I'm a biokid - I had relatives who also had no tits, so if any of this stuff ever worked? Dude - Mom would have been *right there* with it at age 13, telling me how it worked.
I got The Talk at nine, for crying out loud. By the time I was 14, I was completely fed up with the whole growing up thing - it just wasn't coming together here.
Let me tell you. Hidden Playboy magazines? Fascinating. I'd never seen anyone who ever looked like that. Both the girls and the boys I played with growing up were just as intrigued - even though the boys claimed we could 'just look at ourselves, sheesh' - none of us had ever dreamed that was under the clothes and stuff. Look at ourselves, right - we laughed in their faces. I had all of Mom's nursing journals to read - and I did, though she found it odd that I would (I knew far more about caring for post-op choleostomy patients than any teen should, for example) - and there were pictures, once in a while. Barbie had a doll's body, and I never equated that with reality - I never knew anyone who looked like that, who couldn't figure that out? A doll's a doll, come on.
I'm also straight. There was the obligatory locker room experiences in junior high and high school, but outside of 'oh shit DON'T LOOK that's RUDE,' I haven't seen tits. I tend to look more closely at times at costume design because frankly? How the HECK does that work?
It's not a matter of hating your body. You don't have tits and you claim to be female, you're going to get told very matter of factly that the world doesn't have a place for you, and/or just outright pities you and is going to give you adaptive equipment as a matter of course. I've been this tall and 96 pounds, and then at another time in my life, 183 pounds. When you're still wondering if you're not an A cup either way? You have no tits and nothing is going to fit you without padding. Oh yes, the padding.
Would you like gel, foam or air? I think it was Ann Landers who said you needed a bra if you could support a pencil under your breasts. If you can't, well - you're a girl, aren't you? Here, fake it. No, really. This is what you're supposed to look like.
Yes, they think underwires help. What, I have no idea. When everything rides up to your collarbone, you can imagine the rest. There was a stint where the fashion was looking like you weren't wearing a bra - and believe it or not, they sold Mom on it! Here's something without a cup and only a few seams! A bra! But don't tell anyone! Sheeyit.
Nobody works for fashion like good foundation garments anyway. Everyone knows you're faking it, come on. Whole family, guys. No tits. Wonderbras. Wonder no longer. I tried one on, looked down and laughed. Then bought another sports bra. That kind of stuff just doesn't apply here. (I wonder what people think who wear thong underwear - because that's the only thing I can equate it to. Here's some firm, hard elastic straps to wrap around your chest REALLY TIGHT. Now, who can't behind that? Um.)
Corsets? Well, I guess you might be able to turn my chest into a shelf, but how appealing is that? It kind of reminds of those chinese finger puzzles - or a pencil in traction. So while I could wear one? Boy, that's a pretty piece of engineering gone to waste. Go spend the $$ on a girl with something to shape.
I have microcalcifications in my right chest wall. Note, I don't say breast - because trying to do a mammogram? Take the ball of your thumb, there at the base at your palm? Flatten that. There's nothing to shoot film of. But I guess I have all the appropriate structures. I got my baseline at age 35. Bully for me. I have all of the risk factors everyone with tits has for breast cancer - and the techs just hate doing my films. "This might hurt more for you than the average person." Well, since I've never been average, that's helpful for you, missie doodle. I'll try not to cross my eyes or scream. The first time, we must have shot twelve films.
"You've got a dancer's body." "So cute and gamine!" I can shop in the boys department, and don't think I won't. Much cheaper over there, y'know. That really cute strapless dress? Mom once told me about a dress she wore in high school they sewed elastic in at the top so it wouldn't fall down. Elastic. In a strapless dress. Like, pull up pants elastic. I've had exactly two of them. One of them required a specific - you got it - foundation garment that allowed it to stay up. (Maybe I should have gone with the rib brace and some baby pins.) The last one, I had enough underwear on I couldn't bend over and breathe at the same time. Pass.
Anything that ever had a bustline, had padding. That includes swimsuits. Go ahead, you wear a couch cushion in the water. Be my guest. I buy one piece suits with all the sex appeal of a tube sock. Bite me. I can get wet and not lose my mind.
Because here comes the truly annoying part - you don't have tits, you're going to be strongly encouraged, walked into it, talked into it, forced into it - because you want to be a girl, don't you? You're not gay, are you? Or worse yet - trans. "You're built like a boy, what a shame!"
Like my bust is going to determine THAT. *eyeroll*
Now you know why so many people sewed silicone bags into their chests. And still do.
I get envious of people who can wear girly things - at times. I listen to a lot of tit-related issues, and can be appropriately sympathetic because I do, after all, have a good imagination.
But the old Playtex commercials? Lift, separate and all that? No idea what you're talking about, no direct experience to speak from.
I can wear a kimono like nobody's business, though. No padding required.
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no subject
Date: 2010-05-21 03:10 pm (UTC)To be honest, I wouldn't go back to being flat. I wouldn't mind going down a size because I have a hard time fitting clothes. I'm 5' 0" so I'd have a hard time fitting stuff anyway. Sure, they got beat up a lot and Delia is always smooshing them. But I like they way my figure looks most of the time. I complain, but I'd rather be big than small.