How I came to celebrate my breasts

Until recently, I have had an estranged relationship with my breasts. I don’t have names for them. I don’t talk to them. I don’t really refer to them very often. I only thought about them when I bought a dress or a top. I did go through a period in college when I refused to wear a bra. Mostly because my breasts are small, and I didn’t need one. When you are in your late teens and early twenties, you want to assert your independence, and I did. By not wearing a bra. It was fun while it lasted. My mom killed my freewheeling spree, when she pointed that my future self would be pissed if I didn’t start supporting my breasts. She said that they would sag, among other horror stories that were brought up for a few months. I knew that she was right, and eventually I agreed to wear bras again. We bought some inexpensive, quasi-supportive bras. And I wore them for seven years. Sure, they stretched and faded. But I really did not care. I was doing the bare minimum for my breasts.

Then I walked into an independent bra and underwear boutique in Austin, Petitcoat Fair. And something clicked inside of me. My breasts deserve better! They should have a bra that correctly fits them and cradles them. They deserve to have a bra that helps them stand tall and proud. I deserve better than the bare minimum. This was the first time that I have really felt that way about my breasts. It was a revelation, and it was awesome.

Who knew that carefully selected, beautifully crafted, and well-fitting bras could make such a difference? But they do! Everyone deserves to have this experience. It can change your relationship with your breasts for the better, and who doesn’t want that? 

What has helped you relate to your breasts?

-          Lauren, recent convert to the breast celebration club