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Need 'em or burn 'em?

I hate wearing a bra. Maybe every woman does, I don’t know. But I’ve gone the last three weeks without wearing one and it’s been fan-freakin-tastic. I’m not a total jerk about it. Out of respect for my boss, I wear little nipple covers so I’m not all Pointy McPointerson when it’s cold. But the lack of a bra begs the question as to whether a bra keeps the girls intact or not.

I mean, the arguments I’ve heard are split right down the middle. Some say that if you don’t wear one, then they’ll grow stronger on their own and stand up all straight and perky like. Then, of course, some say that if you don’t wear one, they’ll sag because there’s nothing to support them.

Both make sense.

Mine are fairly perky. Both of them. Still. At the ripe old age of somewhere in the middle of my life. But I kinda think that’s cause they’re small. Well, smalllish. An argument could be made that they are close to a C-cup. But I’m pretty sure that’s just cause I’m a fatty lately, and they are excess fat. Usually they are a ripe B, having blossomed over time from a pubescent A. (Thank you boob gods.) But, definitely not larger than a handful. Well, BW’s hand anyway.

Anyway, I’ve decided I want to be a test case for this bra/no-bra experiment. Not that anyone is paying attention or even necessarily cares. Regardless, here’s my pledge to you – when I’m 80 I’ll check back in here on this blog. And I’ll let you know if they are still perky, or if they are down to my knees. (Let’s hope it’s not the latter.) Then, if you are still of a caring-about-your-boobs age, you’ll know which side of the argument was correct. And can act accordingly from there on out.


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