HURRAH FOR THE BUDGET BIG BRAS
Supermarket ranges now go up to a G-cup. But how do they measure up for comfort and style?
LIKE most women, I have a drawer stuffed full of bras. When I open mine I seethe with resentment.
Why? Because of the endless hours being prodded and poked by bra fitters in specialist lingerie shop changing rooms, and the ridiculous amount of money that its contents represent.
If you’re nodding in agreement, it’s safe to assume that, like me, you have large breasts. Which means you’ve had to pay premium prices for bras that aren’t even particularly attractive compared to the pretty, feminine designs our more modestly-endowed sisters pick up for a song.
For years I’ve had to pay up to £70 for utilitarian contraptions that look like baby hammocks. Thankfully, though, supermarkets are starting to cater for larger bosoms.
Sainsbury’s, Tesco and Asda are waking up to the fact cup sizes are on an upward trajectory — the average size is now a 36DD. Women like me are no longer penalised for the hand nature dealt us.
Indeed, as you can see from our fab photoshoot — modelled by Abby, a 32D, and 36E Hannah — they’re providing welcome glamour for much larger busts.
That means cheap, cheerful and genuinely attractive creations we can pick up on our way to the veg aisle just like everyone else. Bra shopping has finally been democratised — and hurrah for that.
Until my late teens I was flat chested, which had me longing for a bigger bust until the day I woke up, overnight, with a D-cup. How I hated these cumbersome, awkward things no bra seemed able to comfortably contain.
I recall my mother handing me my first cotton M&S bra when I was 12 and being thrilled, despite it having just enough room to fit a couple of paracetemol.
But when I actually had something to put in a bra, I realised I’d been cruelly jinxed — ruled out of being able to buy the gorgeous, dainty lingerie my girlfriends could pick up. I tried to ignore reality and would buy lovely little bras that would hurt my back and crush my breasts, flesh spilling out in every direction. More money wasted.
Over the years, usually after each baby, they only got bigger. Ten years ago, when I was a gargantuan I-cup — I didn’t even know that was a thing until I became one — my boobs were making me so miserable that I had breast reduction surgery. ‘Can I please have a Kate Moss?’ I begged my surgeon.
But he told me the flat- chested look wouldn’t work with my broad-shouldered frame. I’d end up looking masculine. He was able to give me a C-cup, which meant I could finally buy bras off the shelf.
Then along came the menopause and my boobs got bigger again. I’m now a 34DD, and back to the old restrictions.
More than anything, I do resent the cost. A lot of technology and design goes into larger bras, but surely, once you’ve got the technique right, it’s simply repeating what you’ve already done?
I’m not asking for something handstitched by a virgin in Cuba . . . just an ordinary bra, in a nice colour, perhaps with a bit of lace. Knowing I can get that when I go grocery shopping means I can finally enjoy a bit of frivolity because I’m no longer forced to pay ludicrous prices.
Bra shopping can finally be fun for all of us — whatever our cup size.