PHYSICAL BODY & RELATIONSHIP TO SELF
To The Girl Who Thinks Her Boobs Aren’t Good Enough
19 December 2016
You may have wished for a fairy godmother.
Except in our modern fairy tale, the fairy godmother you think you need generally comes with a $6,000+ bill and a waitlist.
And probably isn’t even a godmother, or a woman at all. But a male dressed up in a coat and conducts his work from a surgery room in a cosmetic clinic.
(Or something to that effect. Clearly I am yet to get a boob job – but have had some serious considerations. Which is where we will begin.)
wenty-six and still a solid A cup.
Puberty apparently overlooked my frantically waving hand when they were handing out boob growth grants. Everything else though, I thank the puberty gods.
Yet sometimes long legs haven’t been enough insurance against the onslaught of envy-grrr-ness when I see girls half my age with boobs twice my size.
Or for that time of year when you crowd (or avoid) the TV because you’re still considering if you’re ever going to arrive at your own Victoria Secret version of womanhood: sexy, smiley – the whole damn confident and “can’t help but look” package.
For any girl who has every felt “not big enough” or “not sexy enough” when she has glanced at another’s boobies – this post is for you.
Because there is godmother. And no, she’s no equipped with a scalpel – but a measuring tape.
Her name, at least for my fairy tale story, is Carys.
Like all great godmothers, she assured me there was nothing wrong with me. I could just benefit from some minor tweaks.
Read: an overhaul in my relationship with my underwear.
You see what I craved most in my internal world: to have more fuller breasts.
To see a hint of cleavage.
To feel just a tad more feminine.
To indulge in buying lingerie that not only looked nice on the rack – but looked mighty fine on my rack too. (Except I never refer to my boobies as my rack, so that felt weird to write. :/ )
And underneath all of that
was the ache to feel sexy.
In my body.
Stripped (or nearly stripped) bare.
Carys showed me that you don’t need to go under the knife to finally feel that way – it seriously was a matter of just getting the right bra.
And not just one bra, but that same bra dolled up in all different patterns and styles.
(Intimo specialises in bringing out a whole new collection every month for you to sink your twins in to. #potentialaddiction)
I traded my four year old Lorna Jane sports bras and an eclectic and colourful collection of Bonds boylegs for matching sets of lace, elegance and playful cheek.
Warning: These bras are NOT for the men.
These bras are for the ladies.
The bras that make you feel how you most want to feel when you’re wearing them, not just when he sees them and can’t wait to take them off.
How do you most want to feel today?
The bras you
chuck under whatever outfit you decided to wear that day arrange your outfit around the intricacies of your cups.
The bras that even if your eyes were the only ones to be raised at the sight of your ooo-lala under garments, your confidence will soar in.
At least this has been the way for me.
Finally, the person beaming back at me from the mirror was all I ever wanted to be.
Sexy. Fun. Cheeky. Playful.
All because of a pair of bra and knickers, for heaven’s sake!
Who knew body love was as easy as having my internal ideal image and external wardrobe collide in the form of a push up bra.
So if you’re craving your own version of Victoria Secret allure, you may just be a fairy godmother bra fitting away.
Get in touch. I know a gal. 😃
Disclaimer: At this present time, I don’t work for Intimo and don’t think I will get direct kickbacks from this post. I’m just a cray superfan who’s had a complete body confidence makeover as a result.
Although Carys is encouraging me to grow my own fairy godmother wings and become a bra fitting specialist too. We shall see where the pixie dust takes me.
Picking Up What We’re Putting Out?
More Thoughts To For Lovin’ Thy Self
My teenage self has dressed my twenty-something body for too long.
Mirroring the exact looks from Pinterest, without the expensive American labels.
We were lying side by side for what could have been the thousandth time, but even in the dark, I had never felt so vulnerable.
The way to be proud of yourself isn’t by ticking off goals.
Although I used to think it was.