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bear by san

February 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.


But I don't think bras are going to go the way of the girdle (in North America) until they either become nigh-universally unaffordable or it becomes comfortable/manageable for everyone to go without them, and I for one am pretty sure I won't live that long. (Barring a double masectomy.)

What's your trouble with bras not fitting--pinching, chafing, short straps? There should be something... *sympathetic fret*

(I remember Threads magazine had an article once on making your own. Of course, I will be shot if I could find underwires that could fit me. >.< But the appeal of never needing to adjust your bra straps again...)