Just like I don't get how Victoria Beckham can walk around in public unaware of how the two oranges hot-glue-gunned to her chest look nothing like breasts, I also don't get how naturally well-endowed women like the one I saw last evening around 6:15 at the corner of ConnAve and DeSales can be under the impression that the breast-bossanova taking place under their covers courtesy of an extremely ill-fitted bra and too-tight top has any chance of going unnoticed as it swings left, swings right, tucks, rolls and triple-sow-cows down the street.
As so many phenomena are, I believe this rash of carelessness to properly lock down the ladybits is rooted in the world of young Hollywood. How many times do we see pictures of Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, Jessica Simpson and the aforementioned former Spice Girl walking around town in the middle of the day, often times in the presence of their children (Posh took it to a new level by accompanying her three small children loose and free to Disneyland earlier this year), either in a lingerie-style bra or more often, with no upper-undergarments at all.
I have several friends whose ladies clock in above the DD tag, so I've had a lot of sturdy bra shopping experience over the years. True, these bras aren't as pretty, lacy, or obviously as dainty as their single-lettered counterparts, but as my friend J would say, "Thick straps and thick underwire are small prices to pay for having a fantastic rack."
So, to all the women out there who have fallen under Paris Hilton's Valtrex-induced spell and believe forgoing a bra is sort of like opting for sweatpants over trousers, please join forces with the camp who think their four heaping handfuls fit in the heavily size-inflated Victoria's Secret C-cup Ipex, watch "Oprah" together for a week - if I recall correctly from my grad school days, she does a bra-fit show at least once every five episodes - take notes on the tips she and those two really unfunny British ladies from the original "What Not to Wear" offer women like yourselves, and then please, for the safety of children's heads everywhere, get a bra that keeps 'em in your hoola-hoop of personal space.
In fact, get two.