26 June - Bras & Burning

There comes a day when opening the bra drawer you start mentally going, not this one, not that one, not this one, not that one. The reason is not that they don't match some knickers (not that that matters hugely these days, another very bad sign of ageing/not caring in general), but that they have become too slack. Correction, your tits are now slack and smaller than they were or shall we say they've lost plumpness and tone and therefore when you look down after putting the bra on (one always checks), it sort of looks wrong/disappointing.

I have resisted sorting out the drawer for a while but the time has come. Even before I start I know already that half of it will go. The ones that are not underwired or padded were already separated and not worn for ages. Why are they still there you ask, well because they are pretty and I remember times they were new and worn for this or that ... man. But there's no point hanging on to them now, the tits will not return since am never going to have surgery in that direction.

Somewhere I have a couple of vhs tapes, god knows where, they are labelled stupid titles like Mon Oncle by Jacques Tati in disguise, me and and ex lover set up the camera and filmed a session. Back in the days I used to watch them to see me and him having what I remember was pretty intense sex. Now I'd settle for watching my tits in their prime or maybe early decline since I was 35 or so. I loved those tits more than I can tell you. Would have wished for bigger ones or ones with more sensitive nerve endings but I never complained. Oh no, I never.

Sure I will invest in top of the range padded and good fit bras but you can't deceive yourself that much. Thing is, even my mother has better tits at 70 odd. Saw them when I helped her choose a few new bras, you know the ones with wider straps and higher straps under the arms to contain the extra flesh that escapes on top. Bitch.