To say that I have not been blessed in the boob department is an understatement. I can go for a run and do star jumps on a trampoline, braless, in my thirties, this is not something to be proud of, I assure you.
We have all heard of the ‘pencil test’, whereby you place a pencil underneath your breast and if the pencil stays put, this indicates that you may need a breast lift (this is bullshit by the way) or in my case, it would be an epic sign that I was never going to get out of the teen bra stage in my 30’s. So far I have broken the lead on more pencils than WHSmith sells; every time they smash to the floor…… this is not smugness, this is a distinct lack of boob.
Over the years I have been resourceful to say the least; I have made boobs from skin that I have dragged under my arms from my back to make up the numbers, been told on bra fittings that I am ‘so petite’ (read, flat chested) and I have tried and failed with a variety of enhancement products, commonly known as chicken fillets.
Strapless dresses always have to be taken in (I normally take a hair bobble as a representation of the width) and as for a V-neck, well I look like a kid from 1982 that is wearing a football strip (that kid would be a boy). This was all manageable until I seen a dress that I fell for hard and fast. Green is my favourite colour, I love a sequin and a long sleeve, she was perfect in every way aside from one thing, the dreaded plunging V-neck.
There was no way I couldn’t wear a bra, the weight of the dress squashed what little I had into my body that you could put a spirit level on my chest and could build a wall that was perfectly plumb. Therefore, I needed a solution.
The first call was obvious, a bra. My good friend google suggested that the best bra was the 'Ultimate plunge' by Wonderbra. I assumed it would be a simple case of trying it on, a little adjustment and ta-da. Ta-definitely not. The Wonderbra brand enhances what you have, when you have little to start with, I was just rattling around in all of this structuring that was uncomfortable, there was more boning in it than a graveyard, and with such little breast tissue it doesn’t sit comfortably on the xylophone that I call my décolletage. This would be perfect to enhance, but for me it wasn’t cutting it, just cutting in.
The nice lady in the lingerie section, that was showing me sad empathetic puppy eyes after tightening and pulling at the previous Wonderbra within an inch of my life, suggested that I try a new type of stick on bra that did ‘everything’, said with a renewed sense of hope that I had seen many a time before. My response was very skeptical but needs must, so I had a go with a tester. Again if you have something to stick into the shape these would be great. Even the test one was starting to peel, and basically looked like I must have been involved in some terrible accident and needed to cover my boobs in Elastoplast’s, so back to the drawing board I went.
I had read some time ago about Kim Kardashian gaffer-taping (or duct-taping her boobs). Now Kim Kardashian and I have very little in common, the only thing that I can think of is that we can both walk and we both breathe. This did not look like something that would work for me but it was my last hope. I have never visited a DIY store to prepare for a night out but I like to think of myself as resourceful, the nice man showed me the tape section and asked me if what I was taping, awkward. So armed with a roll of gaffer tape, a friend and a dry skin surface (essential apparently) off we went. The tip was to create some sort of ‘backpack’ straps to lift and then the push together came from the second application of tape horizontally. There are a lot of tutorials about this on YouTube, don’t be alarmed that these ladies already have a lot more material to work with, it still works. I have to say that with a little dragging of skin and a couple of taping attempts it worked! All I had to do was pop my dress on over my head and……. this is where I came a cropper. Due to the taping over your shoulders, if you do not stand perfectly straight you effectively have the arm range of motion of a T-Rex. Just a little tip when you attempt this.
However, rest assured, it was worth the overall look; I got warm, didn’t move, I danced, didn’t move, perfect. The downside, you basically exfoliate (okay rip your top layer of skin and all fine hairs attached) when you get home. Do it quick, this is not a technique for the faint-hearted. I have said it before, pride is painful and it has not been truer in this case.