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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.


Yeah- there were days when I still had some faint hope of buying bras off the rack at a major retailer. Mind you it was about a three year window in my late twenties and it seems like half of the fitters got my size wrong.

One day I went to three different department stores and talked to a grand total of five 'fitters'. I got told three different band/cup combos and said fukkit and went for drinks with a friend.

Every time a thread like this pops up somewhere I feel like I should send my bra pusher flowers.