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bear by san

March 2017



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the heartbreak of armpit fat.

I have just discovered the official silliest piece of fatphobia I have ever encountered in my born days.

Apparently, we are all now supposed to be terrified of exposing our unsightly armpit fat.

Based on my admittedly cursory internet research, and exemplified by the image above, I would worry about the health consequences for any woman concerned with armpit fat, because it would suggest that she is not doing her breast self-exam properly. What we see above, in the damning orange circles, is in fact part of the boob. And the problem is that Madam is not wearing a properly-fitting bra, as the one illustrated above is at least two cup sizes too small and one band size too large. The little metal bits (we call them 'underwires') are meant to lie flat against the ribcage, not sit halfway up Mount Doom like the track of a sidehill hoofer.

Why yes, I am supposed to be writing a novel. Why do you ask?

But the patriarchy is in my armpits. Some things just can't wait.


Word. The people who supposedly burned bras and or advocate same clearly had small breasts. Certainly none wore a G.

Currently I'm putting up with insufficiently supportive and sometimes not-quite-fitting-right bras even though I found a splendid brand and style -- because when nursing, breasts change size and sometimes shape within each 24 hour period. There is no nursing bra with an underwire for valid structural reasons, and no bra, however well made, without underwire-style structures that will fully do the trick in supporting large breasts. But they're a lot more comfortable when the size is off than underwires, in spite of the double-boob effect, and they're STILL better than trying to go without. (And no armpit "fat", hurrah.)
Ah yeah.

Which brings us back to "breasts are annoying."