Let’s Talk Tits: Should I Mow My Boobs Down Or Stick With My Swing Low, Sweet Chariots?

Now what’s beef? Beef is when a bitch’s titties looking like they sleep. –Trina (One of her illest lyrics!)

Apr 19, 2013 at 11:00am | Leave a comment

I once had an often-topless roommate in college who had the most perfect, perky D-cups I’d ever seen in real life. Even though she had three nipples, they were still a top-notch set of tits in my book -- LUCKY!

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See my F cup honeybaked hams stuffed into one of my favorite Alexander Wang dresses? Ugh.

 
Mine on the other hand? Not so much. My (well-deserved) nickname is high school was "Titty City." (Kids can be so unbelievably cruel, can’t they?)
 
I’ve been plagued with oversize chesticles pretty much my whole life, ever since my bust suddenly bloomed at the tender young age of thirteen. Now it’s reached a point where I find myself stuffing my larger-than-life boobs into a size 34F over-shoulder-boulder-holder each morning. (For added context, I’m 5’2” -- my bra size on my hourglass figure makes me look like a complete caricature.)
 
And I realize that the grass is always seemingly greener on the other side, but y’all have no idea what I’d give to be a natural A-cup. I’d do something strange. Real strange simply because I think breastbone is the sexiest part of a woman’s body. I haven’t seen my own damn breastbone in close to 20 years, and can only dream of wearing super low-cut tops or going braless in public.
 
I’ve had consultations with a few reconstructive surgeons over the last couple of years to discuss my options, but I have yet to book an actual reduction surgery for these three reasons:
 
1) No one will take me down to an A cup.
 
All three plastic surgeons told me that the lowest size they’d be willing to take me to is a C-cup, but two recommended I go down to a D. (Something about going into shock and erring on the side of safety, blah blah blah.) 
 
Granted, going from an F to a C is quite a big jump, but for $7,000 + approximately eight weeks total recovery, I’m not entirely sure if it’s actually worth it. If I’m paying to go under the knife, I want to go all the way. And by all the way, I mean I’d prefer to be left with a little breast tissue and two upturned nipples. (Sexy, slinky backless dresses come to momma.)
 
2) There’s a chance I’ll slip into a mild depression.
 
I’m not sure how true this is, but I’ve been told that some women feel as if they’ve lost their identity once their titty balls are gone, and the feeling becomes even more intensified when they have to shop for new bras and basically a whole new wardrobe.
 
I’m going to take a wild guess and assume that this won’t be that much of an issue for me; shopping is my main form of cardio and therapy. I’d gladly hand damn near everything I own over to Goodwill and skip on over to Barneys quick fast and in a muthafucking hurry to buy as much low-cut, backless, sexy bullshit as my AMEX allows. (It’s unlimited but they have called me once or twice in the middle of a shopping spree to confirm everything was OK. Oops.)
 
3) I have yet to date a man who doesn’t love them.
 
In fact, all of my exes have looked at me like I was batshit crazy when I tell them that I want to be flat chested. And I guess that’s understandable; according to this recent study, apparently 25% of men wish their partners would get plastic surgery, and 49% of those vote for breast implants! 
 
(Where the fuck are all the men like my main man Creed Bratton?)
 
 
But I digress.
 
57% of the men surveyed wish their women would get liposuction, while 42% would like them to have their teeth fixed. (That’s cold as fuck!)
 
Anyway, in light of all of this, I guess I should be thanking my lucky stars that I was blessed with naturally big and beautiful breasts. But I’m not. For some silly reason, I’m still not completely comfortable taking my bra off for a marathon moanin' and boning session, simply because I hate the way the roll around in missionary, and the way (I think) they look when I get on top, and the fact that (I think) they look like thundering udders when, well, you know.
 
Enough about my tits -- tell me about yours. Do you love them? Wish they were bigger? Smaller? Perkier? Have you had a reduction or an enlargement? Tell me, tell me, tell me!
 
Feel free to follow this busty babe over on Twitter: @IndiaJewelJax.