I ended up buying the darling pink number from Victoria's Secret pictured at left. If I was going to get in touch with my feminine side, I was going to go all the way. My body was already so pumped up on estrogen that I was beginning to produce eggs. Which is great, because I've been craving omelettes.So I wore the bra all day Super Bowl Sunday, the manliest day of the year. And first, let me get this off my chest. No, I mean literally, let me get this thing off my chest. Guys: imagine a cardigan made out of poison oak. It's like a noose for your boobs. That's what they should call it, a "boob noose." We can clone a sheep, but we can't develop a more comfortable bra? Can we please get NASA on this? Take the Mars money, put it into bras. Fuck Mars. We're never getting to Mars. Take some of that money for the lunar lander, make a new hooter handler.
All these hooks and clasps and pieces and parts: it's like trying to assemble a goddamn sofa from IKEA. They should include an allen wrench with these things. All day long, I did the cooking and cleaning for our Super Bowl party in my pink bra. "Why didn't you get a lacy bra?" my wife asked, as I sauteed some chicken. "Something sexier?"
"Because I was looking for comfort and support," I responded.
For a moment, she was speechless. "That's actually the right answer."
So I really was channelling my inner goddess. Tom Jones was beginning to seem more attractive than The Three Stooges. I had an irresistable urge to pick up scrapbooking. And although my man-mammaries hadn't filled out my new brassiere quite yet, our other test subjects were having more luck.
Name: Christy
Starting cup size: A
Christy had exciting news: "Today, my fiancee remarked that my boobies definitely look bigger!" Even more exciting news came a few days later: "I noticed that my breasts are getting too big for the cute little A-cup bra I've been modeling in. Have I gained a cup size? They sure feel bigger." To celebrate the occasion, Christy also went out and got a new bra, which you can see above.
That's one unlisted side effect of the breast pills: you've got to buy new underwear.
Name: Jennifer
Starting cup size: B
Jennifer experienced other side effects. "These pills have made my premenstrual cramps HELL," she wrote, also complaining of constipation and irregular periods. But most disturbingly, "My breasts have shrunk. Yes, shrunk! My husband measured me, and I'm now at 33 inches." But still, Jennifer bravely pressed on in the name of science, even though her breasts might soon resemble a pair of Moon Pies.
Name: Erin
Starting cup size: C
Erin continued to experience soreness, but claimed, "They're definitely bigger. Bras are becoming ill-fitting -- my boobs are falling out of these things. 'Tuck those suckers in, will ya?' jokes my boyfriend. He took a picture of me on Saturday night, and I had to do some Photoshop editing, since those things had a mind of their own. (I'll include the edited version for you.)"
"My bras are becoming ill-fitting."
Name: John
Starting cup size: D (for "Dude")
My bra was also becoming ill-fitting, especially as Super Bowl Sunday wore on. It's difficult to high-five the guys on a touchdown, when your straps keep falling down on your shoulders. I will have to say that I slept pretty soundly that night, just because I got the damn thing off my body. It was like Oprah Winfrey had been sleeping on me, and finally rolled over to her own damn side of the bed. If I had to choose between bras and breathing, I'd pick breathing.
Forget that. Even if my man-mambas grew to double-Ds, I wasn't going to wear one of those things again. The next morning, I went out to my garage, doused it with gasoline, then burned the bra.
I understand the feminist sentiment behind burning bras, but I've got to tell you that it smells awful, like stuffing the Michelin Man with hair, then throwing him on a bonfire. Next time you want to make a statement, ladies, just use a pair of scissors. Panicking, I tried to stamp out the burning elastic on my garage floor, but the melting pink goo clung to my shoe like a giant wad of gum. Great. Now I'm wearing a bra, only on my foot.
Anyway, it felt good to get that off my chest, but we still had one more week to go.
