I Finally Got My Titties Fitted, and Why You Should Too

November 8, 2018, 8:15 am | By Charlotte Wilson-Langley

When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to have boobs. In third grade, I stuffed my shirt with plastic eggs that came out of those crazy chicken toy vending machines. It didn’t matter to me that the top of the egg was a different size than the bottom of the egg. I wanted boobs, and I was willing to have one very pointy plastic tit to make this happen.

I remember when all of my friends started getting bras. I was about ten, and every day a new friend would come to school wearing a brand new bra. I was brimming with jealousy, and it ignited a bra obsession in my brain. Every day after school I’d wait for my mom to come home in hopes that this would be the day I’d get a bra. This exercise went on for at least a year and maybe longer. Because I waited so long to get a bra that I can’t remember when I got my first one.

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As an adult, my bra obsession came to a halt. I was never a Victoria’s Secret girl, and I'm not into lingerie. And that’s not because I don’t like my boobs, they’re great! I just don’t care for lacy items or underwear that gives me a perpetual wedgie or anything uncomfortable.

In my 20’s, a new bra meant a hand me down from my mom. Or it meant rummaging through the racks at Bealls Outlet, Marshalls, (or if I was feeling fancy) Macy’s. There was that one time that I splurged on my gals and bought a Wonderbra. I was going on my first vacation as an adult, and I wanted to debut these Bahama Mamas. Wonderbras were crazy. I’d never seen such ridiculous cleavage in my life, but I had to be a part of it. Then there were the gel bras that made your boobs bigger in a more “realistic” way. Those were awesome, and if you froze them overnight, you could also nurse a hangover.

I don’t know how I ever came up with my bra size. No one ever measured me. It must have been a process of trying things on that were uncomfortable and then finding something that didn’t stab me in my side. Or my mom giving me her old bras which I gladly accepted. But when it came to finding the right fit, there was never any formula, no tips, and no tricks for these tits.

I can remember one drunken night in college wearing the cutest low cut spaghetti strap top. It was baby blue, and I had light blue espadrilles to match. As the night progressed, so did my buzz and level of tiredness. I remember being in a bedroom full of people who were still talking and drinking, but all I wanted to do was lay down. I collapsed backward and started to relax when not 30 seconds into my fiesta siesta I was awakened by a tap on the shoulder from my friend, Stephanie. She was giving me the “your titty popped outta your shirt signal.” Stephanie would also be the one to tell me later that many of my friends thought I was seeking attention because I’d often wear a black bra under a white shirt. The horror! The truth of the matter was that I didn’t give a shit.

Char trying on a friend's fancy bra

My bra finding prowess didn’t improve much over the years. Just last year I found an adorable bralette on Amazon. I honestly thought it was the cutest thing ever. It was bright yellow, stretchy and it had a cute plunge to it. I was so proud of this find that I texted a friend a picture of me modeling it and said: “look at this awesome bra that I got!” To which she replied, “girl that isn’t supporting your titties at all.” Ugh. I started to realize that I needed Iyanla to fix my boob life. Turns out that what I thought was great, was way off base. And that maybe having your titties fall out of your bra every time you bend over isn’t normal.

So this summer I decided it’s time to get these titties fitted. I’m a total research nut, so when I set out for a titty fitting, I needed to make sure that wherever I went knew what they were doing. I did a Google search and found a store within walking distance from my apartment. But this place only worked with sizes D to infinity so that I couldn’t go there. (Or so I thought.)

I’d heard Victoria’s Secret was a good place to go for a fitting. But after reading a couple of Yelp reviews and an article, it seemed that Victoria’s Secret was inconsistent in their sizing practices, and some people left feeling like a ten-pound sack of potatoes in a five-pound bag. I looked into going to Nordstrom but, to brave the Grove---no thanks. Then a friend recommended that I check out Wizard of Bras in Monrovia. This place looked like the real deal. Racks and racks of bras for every size and professional fittings but alas, they weren't open. During my search, I noticed a place called The Lace Lounge. But I wasn’t drawn to it because I’m not into lace. And prices weren’t listed on the website. I’m a freelancer, and I didn’t want to spend $100 on my little Debbies.

The Lace Lounge was my last bet for a fitting that day. So I gave them a call, and they gave me price ranges for all their bras and told me to come in. When I arrived, a lovely lady, Tiffany---who owns and operates the shop---greeted me.

I thought she’d be bringing over a measuring tape and a boob gauger, but it was much simpler. She first started by looking at me and then brought a few bras over for me to try on. My whole life I’ve been wearing a 36C, so I was shocked when she brought over a 34D and a 36DD! How could this be? Apparently bra sizing works in ratios, and I’d been wearing the wrong one. Which would explain the bra that gave me a permanent mark on my side, the bras that I can only handle wearing for two hours, and the bras that cause my boobs to pop out like a jack-in-the-box. She also told me that all bra brands don’t run in universal sizes so you could be a different size depending on the brand you’re wearing.

Tiffany let me try on so many bras. It was divine, and I felt like the emperor's boobs. She even taught me how to put a bra on correctly, which I’d been doing wrong. Not only are you supposed to tuck your boobs forward, but you also bend and shimmy them as you’re putting on your bra. This step would prove to be an important one for me because Tiffany told me something I’d always suspected. I’ve got wide-set breast-esses. My boobs are the quarterbacks of boobs, y'all.

Tiffany told me that a good bra should scoop you up, forward and together. And that an ill-fitted bra will cause your boobs to pop out, or a bra where the cups are too big will have weird empty pockets on the sides of your bajongas. After trying on a variety of bras, Tiffany and I decided that the Chantelle brand bra in size 34D was the best fit!

If you’ve been putting off getting fitted for a bra, I highly recommend it. You’ll be more comfortable, you’ll look better in your clothes, and you’ll end up with a good quality bra that lasts. And it won't have an underwire that slides out and tries to stab you in your heart.

Here are some great tips that Tiffany gave me. (I had no idea!)

Wash your bras by hand, but if you can’t do that---get a lingerie bag and wash them in the bag with the backs hooked. I picked up a lingerie bag at Rite Aid for $1.99.
Don’t put your bras in the dryer, that’s murder for a bra.
And last but not least, don’t wear a bra for more than three days in a row. Give your bra a break!

Now go forth and let your titties be great.