You chat with people at work, get to know them, eventually share stuff. A woman I worked with told me that she had had cancer of the breast. She underwent a bilateral mastectomy. She underwent reconstruction. She also confided that one of the unexpected side effects were that her breasts became escape artists. She could not keep them contained within a brassiere, they were evidently just too light weight to stay within ah... bounds. So she gave up wearing a bra. I asked about the bounce jiggle problem. Nope not heavy enough to jiggle or bounce. After that I would catch myself eyeballing her chest and had to smack myself up along side my head with a mental STOP THAT or she will think you are some sort of PERV!! The escaping breasts were a thing.
Speaking of giving things up, I remembered way way back to one Christmas. I was about 14 of so. One of my gifts was a wig hat. Yup that was a thing. I loved that hat, it was white, synthetic hair that could be styled, back combed and hair sprayed to within an inch of its life. And I did. I wore it to school for several weeks after Christmas and well into Spring until one day I was sitting in Study Hall. One of the beautiful Gratton boys stopped at my desk, patted me on my hat and smirked, "That is a LOT of hat". So I wore the hat home and it never resurfaced. I still really liked that hat.
The next thing to go astray was my hair. In my youth, I decided to go blond. It was more white than blond and the process to get it to that particular straw like texture and blinding white color was smelly and prolonged I proudly wore that hair with my girl friend, Judy Xxxxx when we traveled to West Virginia to visit her family. While back there the house did not have a shower so we washed our hair outside using the rain barrel for rinsing. I discovered that dyed hair develops unattractive black roots within a week and I sure as Hell was not getting weekly touchup like Judy's sister Betty did. Yeouch! And it became glaringly obvious that my complexion blazed blush at the least and fire engine red at worst and was not complimented by screaming white hair. So I went to a much more subdued normal with red highlights. Yeah THAT was a thing.
There have been other stupidities along the way. As I aged I opted for comfort in all things, shoes, pants, sweaters, clothing without zippers or buttons nice and stretchy. Oh the comfort of soft sockies!! Most recently I have purchased sports bras. Sizing was a problem, with my injured right arm, it was difficult to get into and I didn't want to mess with front closure either, bring on the pull ons. I eventually settled on XX size and wore them proudly. But something had happened. As you age your breast tissue becomes less dense, lighter, bouncy. I discovered recently that my left breast has become an escape artist sneaking out whilst I innocently nap. Dammit! I will struggle with it because I will be GO TO HELL if I will go dairy style cuz little old ladies with large flat breasts that hang down and sway if nothing else should not be seen in public wearing only a thin T shirt. Cover those puppies up for GAWDS sake!! Yeah that is a thing.
