Bosom Burden

I have something to get off my chest.

And it belongs to you.

No, not you.

The other you.

You know who you are. Yeah, you.

Is it because I’m big boobed?

Are you intentionally ignoring the IBT market?

Are you harboring some maternal anger for being or not being breast fed as baby?

The region that encompasses my chest might be larger than most, but does that give you the right to use it?

I think not.

I have been shopping in vain for some new blouses, shirts, tents, or whatever you want to call them.

99.99999% of the choices available in my size are actually maps of cities or countries disguised as clothing.

If I took the shirt off and lay it out flat I could use it as my GPS instead of paying Tom and his brother Tom to navigate.

I have enough weight to carry around. I don’t need the additional weight of buildings, cathedrals, roads, and vehicles on my chest.

Is there not some designer somewhere who creates shirts for the well endowed that has not traveled the world and wants to do a slide show on my chest? Speak up now, because I can’t find you.

For those designers hiding in the bushes, I say, stop taking pictures. Huge hibiscus flowers, patios, butterflies, and other flora and fauna do not belong on my chest.

They are butt a$$ ugly.

That goes double for those stuck in the sixties. Paisley and plaid are out. They do nothing to flatter large busted women. Worse than that, they annoy us. If I ever get my hands on you I am going to commit homicide upon your warped pharmaceutically occupied mind.

Solid colors people!

Has the world run out of dye and fabric?

Can you not design with solid colors?

Did someone steal your box of crayons?

Just because I am a well endowed woman eligible for discounts everywhere I shop does not mean I have lost my good sense or my desire for something stylish.

My spillage to the bosom area is more attractive than the shirts you design, and I’m not even trying to design wearable art.

It angers me when I see Paris, Italy, the beach and other world travel destinations on my shirt.

I hate to shop. Your fashion sense does not add to an already tense occasion.

I beg of you. Do something now before I become one of those slasher people wielding a big knife upon your creations.

I’m sure any such attack would be considered justifiable.

Put a couple big boobed women on the jury and conviction would fly out the window faster than my bra being unsnapped.

Get with the program and drop the travel crap on your neighbors and friends. Force them to sit and watch your self-purported designing ideas.

If you want advertisement – pay for it.

If you want your artwork shown, put it in a gallery.

If you desire accolades, design something decent for a change.

I wouldn’t want to sit through a slide show of your vacation so what makes you think printing it on a shirt will make it more appealing to the masses.

Stop using my chest as your display rack!

I have enough bad ideas of my own to pay for. I don’t need any help in that area.

Remember me and all the big busted women of the world the next time you pick up your colors to design apparel for the “women’s” market. We are watching you.

Remember us now, or fear us later.

At least you have a choice.

From the life and mind of:
Wanda M. Argersinger
© 2011 All Rights Reserved
www.wandaargersinger.com

About Wanda Argersinger

10 comments

  1. Dawn@LightenUp!

    Fantastic! Being from the mouthful side of the boob fence, I had no idea this was such a problem. Tell ’em, Wanda!

  2. Look at the bright side, Wanda. Maybe somebody will take you on vacation with them if you’re wearing a shirt from the appropriate region and their GPS is out!

  3. OH, yeah, and the big busted women on programs like The View (just to name one) do so much to help our cause. The fashions for those of us who are “amply endowed” obviously are designed by the men who want to “let it all hang out.” And if you are lucky enough to find a blouse (or even a dress) in a solid color, the style has to be one that years ago would only have been worn by a pregnant woman. EMPIRE WAIST! Indeed! Ha! I hear you, and I agree with your take on it! Makes me ALMOST want to start sewing my own clothes again. ALMOST, but not quite!
    Janet

  4. Sing it sista! I had a similar rant a few years ago about the bathing suit makers of the world. They just don’t get it. But they will…..muh ha haaaaaaa!

  5. I am on the same side of the fence as Dawn. Can’t they make tops that make us look like we have a bust? 🙂 However, my daughter has the same issue you do. Being a big busted young woman in your early twenties is not all it’s cracked up to be. Buying tops that don’t let the girls loose, is a nightmare. The styles and designs just make it worse. She doesn’t want to walk around looking like a GPS either. I feel your pain.

  6. I don’t profess to know much about how clothiers arrived at the measurements they use to define women ,but I know a size 7 is labeled L for large,and that is no where near the size of the average woman. I would say that should be marked as Small,and 12-14 as M for medium. 16 to 20 would be about right for the L label.
    My supervisor has always had trouble finding clothes that make her happy too. They either don’t fit,are the wrong style,color,material, or something in between.
    She made a beautiful dress for old-timers day long time ago in another life when we actually attended church regularly, but being Baptists…well…you know how it is,a ball game, or a race,or maybe even a picnic and the day is over.
    I have suggested several times that she make clothing for that niche market, the REAL average-sized woman.

    Jay

  7. I don’t profess to know much about how clothiers arrived at the measurements they use to define women ,but I know a size 7 is labeled L for large,and that is no where near the size of the average woman. I would say that should be marked as Small,and 12-14 as M for medium. 16 to 20 would be about right for the L label.
    My supervisor has always had trouble finding clothes that make her happy too. They either don’t fit,are the wrong style,color,material, or something in between.
    She made a beautiful dress for old-timers day long time ago in another life when we actually attended church regularly, but being Baptists…well…you know how it is,a ball game, or a race,or maybe even a picnic and the day is over.
    I have suggested several times that she make clothing for that niche market, the REAL average-sized woman.

  8. Well ladies, consider the number of well endowed women in the world and then consider how many of a style of dress or blouse is made at any one time. You’re probably still wading through those items made back when big women were all the rage. Now those skinny girls are trying to catch up with all the breast enlargements going around and have yet to buy up those not-so-flattering items of clothing (or they’re so flippin’ rich they can afford their own tailor). My mom taught me how to sew from a pattern but sadly I was too interesting in horseback riding at the time to know how to alter a pattern else I’d gladly sew something up for you. Of course, the fact that I live way the hell and gone out here in the middle of nowhere is another obstacle. Good luck in your search.

    Oh my; I just had an idea. How about dying the shirt the desired color?

  9. Sorry, I can’t relate. Strapless prom dresses had to be glued to my body and I always prayed for a really cold prom night. .. goosebumps would help. Eyeshadow was later artfully applied to resemble shadows of cleavage where there was none. Kleexes helped fill out the empty spots in my life. Maybe I could write a piece about “wide bodies” unite. Try buying a bra when your chest measures 40 and your cup size is AA. What we need are real life designers who design for real people, not Barbies.

  10. Go, Wanda!! Great story. Loved that line “conviction would fly out the window faster than my bra being unsnapped.” I agree totally. My biggest problem is that I no longer have a waist. At the last office job I worked at a large woman was always fashionably dressed. I wish I knew where she bought her clothes. It definitely wasn’t Wally World.

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