Jean Paul Gaultier for La Perla

When La Perla announced its collaboration with Jean-Paul “inventor-of-the-Madonna-cone-bra” Gaultier, we didn’t exactly rush for the nearest waiting list.  La Perla don’t cater for the DD+ boob, and a JPG collection of creative, architectural lingerie was not going to be the place for them to start.

But now the blue bra is giving me major small boob/fat purse envy, and though I’m not that fussed about the ‘clubwear’ the range as a whole is rather beautiful.  I confess, I’ve been wondering: would a G-in-a-cone be so terrible?

Armed with some crudely hashed GCSE maths extensively thought out and well prepared calculations, I can estimate that just one of my G-cones would have the capacity of about 1.25 litres, and its perpendicular height would be great enough to stab people on the tube.  A health and safety nightmare, you say.  But, I argue, not entirely without use.  With that kind of reach and point you could exact a very fitting revenge on anyone caught leering.  You’d never be short of a skewer on the go.  And that kind of capacity must be extremely useful for picnics…

Who am I kidding? G-cones would excel only at making a fulsome chest look one tusk short of a triceratops.  As ever, we must content ourselves with the impending spring/summer collections and hope for the best.  One day, perhaps, our cones will come.

 

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Sports Bras: Avenge Your Inner Teenager.

Well, I did it. The first run ever outside of the fiendishly restrictive elastic of my wasp coloured secondary school gym knickers.  I’ll skim over the details of my own performance (good start, shambolic middle, agonising finish) to move straight on to my conclusion: Freya Active deserve a Nobel Prize for physics.

Encased in a brilliant bright red 28G Freya Active bra, my boobs barely moved.  Which means that not only was I running for the first time ever without one arm crossed protectively over my chest, I was shaking off a long-held hangover of secondary-school-PE-induced body anxiety.

Once I’d outgrown C-cups, sport became so associated with wild jiggling and a sense that everyone was watching and laughing that I stopped exercising completely.  So as well as running (then staggering, then crawling…) along the Thames on Sunday, I also proved to my fifteen year old self that having big boobs doesn’t have to stop you doing anything you want to do. It wasn’t just the endorphins making me feel good.  I felt liberated.

So the tricky question: how can everybody find the same gravity-defying feat of engineering necessary to get moving?  The Freya Active worked perfectly for me, but some won’t like how boa constrictor tight it is around the ribs.  I suspect, as with regular bras, the perfect sports bra is as individual as the person shopping for it.  Freya, Triumph, Enell and Shock Absorber have all been popular on Busts 4 Justice, but which will be right for you is a case of trial and error.  This might sound like hell but I promise, it’s not impossible.  Take a sympathetic friend in to the changing room and push the boundaries of your friendship by jumping up and down in front of them in a colourful array of constricting Lycra.  Pump fitters for as much help as possible.  Experiment with sizes.  Read online reviews, talk to friends and listen for advice that sounds relevant to your shape and your goals.  Pack Haribo in your handbag for when your sugar levels drop, and reward yourself with cocktails at the end.  It’s difficult to get right, but it’s worth it.  I can’t wait to get back out there and make up for all that time lost hiding in the changing rooms. Just as soon as I can move my legs again, that is…

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Nice melons, boys!

This from the Times on Saturday (16 October 2010).

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Look me in the eyes…

Cap48, a non-profit organisation highlighting disability issues in Belgium and France, have raised €4million in a campaign featuring the above image, which reads “Look me in the eyes… I said the eyes”.  Tanja Kiewitz, a 35-year-old graphic designer and star of the campaign, said “I wanted people to confront the ambiguity of beauty and disability.”

“They see that I am above all a woman and can be beautiful and sexy, and that disability is secondary.”

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Putting the ‘g’s into ‘jogging’.

I want to start running, but since G-Unit can hardly take two steps unsupported, this isn’t a task I can attempt without significant engineering.  So begins my quest for the perfect sports bra.

With a sympathetic friend for back-up (also a runner, also busty), I hit the streets of Brighton this morning optimistic that, in 2010, the technology to stop a pair of 30G breasts knocking their owner out mid-jog must exist in abundance.

We made a beeline for a 30G Shock Absorber.  I’d read so many good reviews about its gravity-defying support (and its breath-defying tightness) that I was fairly confident I was going to strike lucky first time.  I was disappointed.  Though they weren’t blackening my eyes, my boobs were bouncing significantly and the bra itself didn’t feel like it was giving me much support.  We needed to go tighter.

Debenhams didn’t have the 28 back so we marched to Bravissimo, where the 28 refused to come even close to doing up.  So I tried another 30G, just in case; and though I was still bouncing merrily the back was noticeably tighter than the one I’d tried on ten minutes before.  In fact, over the course of the expedition I ended up trying on three identical 30G Shock Absorbers and none of them fit me in the same way.  As if sports bra shopping wasn’t difficult enough.

Closest to the mark was a Freya Active (above) in a 28G.  Having gone down a back size the cups were slightly too small, but my boobs moved much less than in the Shock Absorber and I preferred having them separated.  (Note, this was the underwired one. I am sorry Freya: in all other respects I love you like a sister, but the perpendicular cone thing that happened to my boobs in the wireless one was just weird.) I thought we’d triumphed, until I discovered that Freya start their Active GG cups at their 30 back…  I could have cried.

Trawling through more shops only uncovered more Shock Absorbers, none of them right.  And that was it.  Brighton – a city with its own marathon – utterly exhausted of sports bra possibilities in under an hour. Shrugging off suspicions that I was in possession of a pair of especially unruly and irrepressible breasts, I abandoned the search and weighed up my options.  Do I compromise with an almost-right fit?  Or do I, as my friend has, resort to running with two too small bras on to keep the ladies firmly in place?  Is the perfect sports bra an impossible dream, or have I just been looking in the wrong places?

The quest continues…

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