That awkward moment when you find out your bra size is 30D when you've been wearing a 32B for three goddamn years

I had a very weird experience today. La Senza now carries bras with a 30 band size, and since 32 feels a bit loose on me, I thought I'd try on a 30C to see if it would fit me better. It didn't. It was too tight across the bust, meaning I needed to go up to a 30D. This had me a bit confused, because until that point I was convinced that I'd never reach a D cup in my entire life. I found the same bra in 30D and it fit perfectly. I just stood in the changeroom and stared at the mirror for a good 20 minutes. My boobs disappear if I put my shoulders back far enough. I can't hold up a pencil with them unless I slouch. There's no way in hell I should have to wear a D cup, but apparently I do. Once it sinks in a bit more I'll be back to buy more bras, since I now only have one that fits me properly.

I imagined that a 30D figure would look unnatural until today. When I heard "D cup," I thought of something more substantial than what I have. It seems I'm horribly mistaken. This is weird. It's a lot to think about. I was envious of people with D cup breasts. It seems so wrong that I have them as well, but that's the way it is. Once I get past that, I'll probably freak out about all the money I spent on bras that don't fit.

I wear a 30D. D for Dick All.

On the plus side, I won't have to worry about the good 32B bras being picked over by slutty preteens. They can have them.

I still maintain that they are too young to wear more than half the bras in that store.


That will be it for now. Goodnight, world.