Or as Paul Harvey used to say, “And Now for the Rest of the Story.”
This is a follow-up to my “First Time Out” article. As part of my preparation for my transformation, I packed my large breast forms, sized for 40D, in my suitcase. (Those must have provoked some wonder in the person that ransacked my bag.) I didn’t pack a bra as that was to be included in the Real Girl transformation I’d scheduled with Just You.
When I got to my appointment, Amy had several bras for me to choose from. I initially chose the one I thought was prettiest, but selected another based on Amy’s input. While being Amy’s “Barbie”, trying on assorted outfits, my left form suddenly dropped out the bottom of the bra! Amy helped me get it resituated and adjusted the chest band tighter so that it wouldn’t happen again. We completed the rest of the appointment without incident, and I navigated back to my hotel room as previously described.
Back in my room, I collected the ice bucket and went down the hall to get ice so I could chill down drinks for the next day. With the drinks on ice, I prepared to go back out to spend more time in public. As I picked up my purse, I suddenly was confronted with my left form lying on the floor, having once again escaped out the bottom of the bra! That shook my confidence enough that I decided to call it a night and proceeded to get undressed. When I got down to my bra, I reached behind to unhook it when suddenly my right form hit the ground as the shoulder strap came undone in the back and flew over my shoulder! I’m afraid that poor bra just wasn’t up to the task.
Since getting home, I’ve examined the failed bra more closely and have observed that the left shoulder strap was in the process of failing in the same way as the right one had. I would hate to think what the experience might have been had I suffered a failure while taking the long route back to my room. From now on I’ll be sure to take one of my Playtex bras if I’m going to be wearing my large forms.
Based on my build and evidence of family genetics the Ds really are roughly the minimum size I’d have been endowed with had I been born a GG. I do have a smaller size purchased to fit an outfit that simply won’t accommodate the D’s, but they weren’t what I wanted to wear for my transformation.
Since none of the failures happened in public I can laugh at them, and I hope that you too have gotten a chuckle or two from the travails I faced in private.