NOTE: From a purely mathematical standpoint this is all very interesting, but this post may contain a biiiiiit too much information about my rack for my dad’s tastes. Be ye warned!
This came up on my Tumblr dash a few days ago and while watching I had one of those “Aha!” moments. She says that what she is telling you may sound nutty but to me it made perfect sense. Why in the world would the measurement of your “upper bust” (the circumference of your chest under your pits and above your boobs) have anything at all to do with the fitting of a garment that is sized based on the circumference of your chest under your boobs and the (gasp!) actual size of your boobs? My wild guess is that this erroneous (and sadly common) method of “fitting” bras was developed by lingerie department sales women who belonged in some other department because they were leery of touching other women’s breasticles.
Whatever the reason that we’ve all been lied to for all these years about what size bra we should be wearing, we are now free! But I should warn you: many of you will balk at the results of your self-fitting as guided by this video. I have been told by salesladies from JC Penney to Victoria’s Secret that I am a 36 C. Ever since graduation (both from high school and B cups) that’s what I’ve been buying without fail. If it was too tight, rode up, or gave me double boob (also known as “quad boob” or “spillage”) I blamed the manufacturer, not the size. This seems so silly to me now — it’s like I had been told 15 years ago that I had size 6 feet and I have spent this whole time stretching out shoes, cursing brands, and crumpling my toes without ever questioning the size I had been arbitrarily assigned.
According to this system I am a 32 F. Does that sound completely insane? 36 C to 32 F? If so, then lemme ‘splain you another thing that the great and mysterious “they” don’t seem to have passed on to the salesladies that have ill-fitted us: cup size and band size are dependent on one another. The cup size is not a constant (mathematically speaking). There is no standard measurement for an “A” (for instance) all by its lonesome. Cup size is meaningless without band size because you are not (as I always thought) mounting standardized boob-holders (cups) on varying lengths of band. Cup size is determined by the difference in circumference of your rib cage and actual boobage. Thus, in my case, 39 – 32 = 7″ difference. 7″ = F (or DDDD or G, depending on manufacturer, but let’s keep it simple for now). In the (correctly sized) bra I purchased today the cups do not look Dolly Parton-sized. They are markedly larger than the cups on the C I wore to the store, but they would never garner a double-take on my clothesline. (Seven inches of bust does not actually stick straight out from one’s rib cage like torpedoes, you know. There is a fair amount of distribution . . . bilaterally speaking.) As I suspected (and saw on the rack in the store) the F cups on a 38″ or 42″ banded bra are bigger again than those in the 32″ that I brought home. Not necessarily deeper, mind you, because there’s still the same amount of (ahem) protrusion, but they are much wider to accommodate the much wider mammaries that they must support.
Confused? No matter. Just follow the instructions in the video and take your new size to the store and experience a life-altering moment. Try not to scream in the fitting room. A silent freak-out dance will suffice. When I got the right bra on my chest it felt like that moment after you’ve gotten off an international flight (that’s been delayed on both ends) and slogged through the warren-like bowels of a strange airport for another several hours and have just flung yourself face first into the(comped) mattress of a queen-sized bed at the Hilton. Sweet, beautiful oh-god-imma-stay-like-this-forever relief.
(Please do peel it off yourself before you attempt to ring it up, though, or things will get a little strange for the sales staff.)