January 9, 2010
Ok, now that I have your attention.
I’ve been at my parents’ in Bombay for the last month and living in my maika allows me to live sans phone, internet and well, responsibilities. As a nursing machine for my 3-month old I don’t get out much. So I live a retired pensioners life along with my parents instead of the happening clubbing youngster life every other Mumbaiker does. OK I’m not a happening clubbing youngster anyway but one can pretend. I’d be lying if I said I felt like I was missing out – we eat at home, my splurges are on childhood memories such as Appy and my daily outing is to the local gym where sweet gujju aunties come work out alongside in salwars and sneakers. No I’m not being malicious, I love it. I love not being part of the trappings of hanging out in the latest bars, shopping at the sprawling malls (I know – sprawling is a word used a bit too generously for Mumbai) and not spending thousands on a night. My big outing for the week is a thali lunch at the Gujarati club which allows non-Gujaratis – gasp! – to eat there on Sundays. The line is long and you have to put your name down and everything. It’s nerve-wracking. Yes I’m a stodgy, behind-the-times NRI stewing in nostalgia, so sue me. On another note, I should’ve been born Gujju….NM, are you listening?
Anyway, the subject of the post wasn’t in vain. I am hollering to new moms or those whose boobs stayed much the same after they became old moms. This seems a timely conversation in the midst of the “what colour bra are you wearing” campaign which I entirely missed living under aforementioned rock. So cut to the chase, my boobs are gynormous. They started getting that way while I was pregnant. From Bs, I started entering D territory and wondered how long it would take my spine to crack under the weight. And then when someone suggested that they would get only bigger once I started nursing, I kept the number for the Guiness Records handy. No sense wasting the gift.
Living in the US, I’ve always had a problem with sizes. Due to my height and frame, I needed an XS or S top. But wouldn’t you know it – American girls that size have peanuts for boobs, not Bs. So I needed a M for boobs. Much joy when I found a S top which allowed for what I had. And horror, I didn’t need pushing up or padding. I think we all know now that Victoria’s secret is that she doesn’t acknowledge women who nurse, only those who need bras that double up as bullet-proof vests. In all the optimism that giving birth affords, I thought – surely in India tops are built for Indian women. Who are shorter, petite but dude…have BOOBS. But noooooooooo, same to same problem. I went to buy kurtis, perfect on shoulders and in height but pressed my boobs so they threatened to spill out of the sleeves.
So Indian women, speak up! in India and abroad, where are you buying clothes once you become mothers? Tell me I’m not alone. I just let it all hang out.