...
The question of a bra for it comes up again.
I remember the first time 86 came back to me. We were to attend some function or other with all the leading lights of the California timber industry, and so it began to weigh on me that I needed to try to at least sort of go dressed remotely like polite society expects. I'd given up completely on bras long since, but my friend Billy had taken to reading lingerie catalogues on his lunch breaks in his mail delivery route, and informed me that bras were in fact made for such like. One simply had to order them through the mail. So I called Billy and asked him to put me in touch with one of these mail order places that produced bras in cups quite larger than you ever find in department stores.
After much rigamarole the day finally arrived when my oversize cups bra arrived. I called 86 to attend the inaugural voyage, so to speak. He waited for me out in the grove of giants next to my cabin, on the tailgate of his pickup, blathering with one of his employees. I sashayed out to model my new purchase for him.
He dropped his phone.
He said, "Good Christ, nines! You could set a dinner plate on those!"
A great deal depends on the cut of a bra. Not strictly the size itself. This woman's knockers don't really extend that far off her chest either. It's just that so many bra makers will insist to plant them on our chests. They are not only on our chests! Mine start under my armpits and go down to within a few inches of my waist, back up by way of my sternum to a few inches under my collar bone. I mean to say they are wide. They only look like on this woman when I squeeze them into a bra made to look like chest missile silos.
They are heavy. I always weigh something like thirty pound more than anyone else my size and I think this may be due entirely to the weight of my breasts. So you can probably grok the physics of walking around in something like that for any length of time. It would leave the wearer with permanent notches in her shoulders where the bra straps sit.
That is quite bad enough, but not according to my boobs. Unless I hold perfectly still, don't move at all for the whole time I am wearing a bra, the stiff underwire, which, whatever its actual construction, is extremely hard and not given to twisting, begins quickly twisting until the ends of it are literally stabbing me and blood starts seeping through my clothes.
You have no idea.
I'm sure there are wizards out there who can tailor make the perfect bra for even me, but they will be in major cities and not what you could call affordable anyway. So after unbelievable strife I finally landed on a compromise. A stretchy cotton "leisure bra"... no underwire... 36H... as in Harvey....
