No, My Breasts are not like Barbie’s

I’d just had a shower and was layering on the Body Shop Brazil Nut Body Butter, when my four year old helpfully moved one of my breasts in an upwards direction. (If you’re childless, I’d like to take this opportunity to break the news that privacy goes out the window once you have children). When I asked her why she felt it was necessary to be so helpful, she replied ‘I’m just giving your boobies a lift.’

If only it were that simple. I could just have someone walking around after me, lifting my breasts up for me. Much cheaper and less intrusive  than plastic surgery, but might make going out a little tricky. It reminded me of another conversation with my eldest daughter, proud owner of a new Barbie. We were sitting on a crowded bus and she was pulling Barbie’s top down, putting it back up, pulling it down, putting it back up, finally she announced in a very loud voice, ‘Mummy, your breasts are nothing like Barbie’s.’

No, nothing like Barbie's

No, they’re not. Nor am I married to Ken.  And I actually don’t want to be approaching 50 (not til next year, and am absolutely not thinking about it at all) with the coconut shell breasts of Tori Spelling. It was only a few short years ago I’d thought Joan Rivers was joking when she said she had to kick her breasts out of the way before she put a bra on in the morning. I’d cringed in horror when I heard someone, whose name escapes me because of my horror, say, ‘if you think your breasts are saggy after breastfeeding, just wait ’til you go through menopause’. I can barely contain my excitement.

Of course, it hasn’t always been this way, as a male friend reminded me when he was referring to another woman’s breasts as ‘firm, full and round’, there was a slight pause before he added, ‘just like yours used to be.’ That’s right, used to be. I sighed and reached for the push-up-padded- guaranteed- to- give-you- the-breasts-you-used-to-have, bra.

But, you know what? I like my breasts. I’ve breastfed three children. They move when I move, instead of looking like plastic screw-on attachments. They’re not tucked, nipped, lifted, airbrushed or photoshopped. They’re part of me and they look and feel like the breasts of a  48 year old(and 10 months, but who’s counting) woman.

Advertisements

14 thoughts on “No, My Breasts are not like Barbie’s

  1. LOL! Oh yes, mine are nothing like those of my 29-year-old self. I’m now half way into breastfeeding baby No. 2 and noticed they’re no longer described as “perky”. Hmmm….
    The 3yo asked the other day whether she’d have big boobs like me when she’s a big girl, followed by `Oh look, I’ve only got little boobies, haven’t I Mum?” 🙂
    Hi, from the Fibro!

  2. Thank goodness they are not like Barbie’s! She’d be terrible at breastfeeding, no? Kudos to you for embracing the YOU that you are – more women should!

    • Definitely no breastfeeding in Barbie’s mobile home, I’m guessing.
      And you’re right, there’s no point not embracing who you are – but I learnt that by aging. The Paradox.
      J x

  3. There is a lot to me said for functional equipment, it doesn’t need to be in ‘prime’ condition to work exceptionally well!
    Courtesy of my non bra wearing years early in the developmental stage, my girls have never been perky, but according to the hubster, he has no complaints.

    Good Bra, $30
    Great Bra $90
    Being comfortable with your body, faults and all, Priceless.

    Stopping by from the Weekend Rewind at the Fibro.

  4. Barbie, Scharbie. But I confess that I do have days when I hanker back to my breasts of yore. Usually those days when I notice that all of me is a little closer to the ground than it used to be!

    Thanks for Rewinding at the Fibro.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s