I don’t want to hear one more complaint about how life is hard with tiny boobs. NOT ONE WORD. I have no sympathy for you. You guys got an entire lingerie line, no, not even just a lingerie line, the BIGGEST lingerie line the entire continent of North America to fill almost their entire store with bras that have built in (not removable) billowing clouds of 4 inch thick tit boosting padding.
What in gods name. WHAT IN GODS NAME. I can’t buy a bra at that dang store anymore. Even though I hate them because Vicky’s Secret has definitely gone down in quality and I destroy their lace undies within days of buying them because when I’m pulling them up since they roll down into little lace tootsie rolls on my hips, i punch huge holes through the material and it looks like a 80′s hooker’s panty hose.
So, now I have no choice but to buy bras that literally take me, a 36(38)DD and suspend those bad boys into unreal heights, looking like Jabba the Hut got a new job at the circus as a tight rope walker and his adderall kicked in about halfway across, all of this being held in by a huge maxi pad featuring not 1, not 2, not even THREE, but 4 clasps. You can’t hide that bungee cord in a cute tanky.
Things were so much more simple when I was a two-clasper.
A two clasper.
The good ol days.
Before I gained weight, starting in my bra.
Here’s how it went down:
Status: LOL stop.
Why do you even own this? Arms tired from your hard job of typing on a computer all day? Can’t reach around back because your tiny biceps are too weak to hook? Ever heard of hooking first in the front then sliding it around?! Front claspers, you can get out!
Status: Fantasy effing fairytale dream.
This is a mythical bra creation. I don’t believe it exists. Maybe if you use a bathing suit as a bra. One-clasper bras are the unicorns of the bra world. Or maybe people like me have been kept out of their magical secret association. MEMBERS ONLY. DAINTY TORSOS ONLY.
Here we see what a bra should look like. two simple clasps- what high school boys are used to practicing on. Let me tell you, the first time they hit something higher than a 2 clasper, their confidence plummets and you will be in an awkward determined struggle, you’ll try to help him he’ll get annoyed so you try to flop your arms down just to let him go at it then he ends up swinging his thigh over your forehead to pin you down and reach over you so he can see it with his eyes himself and since you’re down there, you can just go ahead and help yourself because at this point he’s just pretending back there. Either that or he’s just sliding the entire bra over your face and it’ll get stuck between your upper lip and nostrils but he won’t care because you’re taking too long and this contraption is too hard and he’s already moving on to your happy trail. Try to stay in the 2 clasp range.
3 Clasp: Things start to go downhill here. First, the above issue. Second, it’s the depression of knowing you need an extra metal bracket to hold your shit together. Because your nonnies are just too wild to be free. The support is better, but it’s like when someone who knows how to swim has to put on a life jacket on when their on a boat: they know they’d survive without it, but it’s just not safe, even though you just want to tear it off and be naked as fuck.
Satus: Rock Bottom
Don’t talk to me. I own a 4-clasper.
When you reach the 4-clasp level, worlds have been altered. You are now the big guy who has to buy two seats on the airline.
You have an extra clasp for your own safety and the wellbeing of those around you.
But damn do they hold them up.
Status: We Know.
I only wish the corset would give a couple extra charity inches to the bottom, because the tightness makes your hips flare out like a lampshade. This is why you must always pair a corset with a tutu.