My Relationship With… Tit Tape

Tit tape

My wardrobe is full of backless and daringly low-cut items of clothing … all sophisticated (of course). I have exactly four backless dresses, three tops and even a couple of jumpsuits that I’ve worn on special occasions. That means I’ve stepped out at least nine times without my bra. (More than most people, less than Helen Flanagan.)

Judging by the amount of times I have braved going braless, you’d think I was confident with my boobs. You’re wrong. It’s no secret that a breast enlargement is on my wish list of things I can’t afford. As a fan of triple gel bras in Primark (don’t tell anyone) I do wonder why on earth I continue to buy these backless clothes when I don’t have the greatest of assets to go with them.

The problem is obviously my lack of breasts, and while there isn’t a lot I can do about that I have tried every other trick of the trade to achieve even a tiny show of side boob. The stick on bra I bought failed to last a whole night out, leaving me with no choice but to go bare, and that is a wardrobe malfunction I can’t risk happening again.

My only option is tit tape, which is annoying, expensive and uncomfortable. I need the help of tit tape and a friend; sometimes even more than one, as strapping me in is never simple. There is nothing easy about baring your boobs to your friends, holding them in place while she tapes and my other friends … well they just stand and watch for the amusement.

Before every night out that involves backless clothing, I face that sinking feeling of wishing my boobs were even just a tiny bit bigger, a last minute less appealing outfit change and a tantrum resulting in my famous line of “I’m not going out”.

I will always want breasts like Katy Perry and face endless problems with tit tape and the fear of a drunken ‘nip slip’. But nothing will change. I will carry on buying backless clothes that I love, braving my boobs and drinking double the amount of vodka to feel more at ease.

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