Big boobies, ho.

Let's take a baby break, shall we, and talk about another "b" word dear to our hearts: boobies. Yes, a 31-year-old woman just called her breasts "boobies." Not "breasts" (calling to mind overly horomone-laden chickens) or "titties" (NEVER "titties." BARF). (On rare occassion, I like "boosom"...) Anyway, I've got big'uns. And not in a bragging, check out my hot shit way. No, in a "they must be dealt with" on a daily basis way. In moments of higher self-esteem, I like to think I'm pulling this type of shit off:

(yes ma'am!)

But most days it feels more like this:

(no, ma'am!)

Now, before Shirley starts in, you should know she has the teeniest, cutest little figure and can wear whatever she wants. She always. looks. good (hush, girl). (fine, i will do what my good southern mama told me and just say thank you!) My fellow mega-mammarians must always consider the boobage factor: How often will I be yanking up my top in front of my in-laws? Will a stressed out button pop free and blind a small child? Why do larger bras only come in grandma styles? This (re: saggage) isn't going to end well, is it? Well, here's what I've learned that helps:

1) v-neck/scoop-neck tops/dresses: This doesn't mean you need to slut it up (though, hey, Anthropologie, way to make all of your tops necessitate bulky camisoles underneath). See our girl Joan up there? Though she looks amazing overall, that crew neck isn't doing her chestal largess any favors. Gotta go with a scoop, J-Ho.

2) 3/4-length sleeves: dunno quite why, but this helps mitigate the boobage. Maybe it's because shorter sleeves stop right at boob-level like an unwelcome beacon in the night? Yeah, that's probably it. And skip the spaghetti-strapped tank tops, unless you're A) able to magically hold them up sans bra (which means I hate you) and B) going for a Hooters waitressy vibe. (More power to you)

3) wrap dresses are your friend (Diane von F, I wish you were my actual friend), as long as you can get the V part to close enough (as I learned the hard way, carefully concealed safety pins are not the answer). And have faith that it won't come unwrapped at inopportune moments (opportune moments are a whole other reason to go with the wrap dress).

4) minimizer bras: they somehow shove that shit underneath your armpits, but not in a noticeable way, hopefully. I like the Olga Christina line, which is slightly less MeeMaw than other options.

I guess none of these are huge revelations, but you'd be surprised at all the boob infractions I witness on a daily basis. Someone should give me a badge. And a taser gun. A badge and a taser gun, yes.

(again: yes ma'am!)

xo,

L