O P I N I O N
DAWN PORTER shares…
EACH�WEEK��THE�INTREPID�TV�PRESENTER�BARES�HER�SOUL�FOR�OUR�AMUSEMENT
�PRESENTER�BARES�HER�SOUL�FOR�OUR�AMUSEMENT
When a bit of support
goes a very long way
or a long time now,
I’ve felt completely
unsupported, like my
F needs just aren’t being
met. Last month,
bombing along the motorway, I’d
finally had enough.
After an hour of us not getting along
at 80mph (any longer and I was going to
cause an accident), there was nothing
else for it… I screeched my car onto the
hard shoulder, shoved my hands up my
top and ripped it off. In the words of
Ross and Rachel, my ill-fitting bra and
I were officially ‘on a break’.
I couldn’t believe I’d let it get this
far. For 15 years, I’d had a length of
barbed wire wrapped around my
rib cage, and had been pretending
everything was fine. That I was happy.
That we were compatible. It wasn’t
like I hadn’t tried. Strapless, T-shirt,
balconette… I’d done everything
I could to make this relationship
work. Now all that was left to do was
the dignified thing and admit, “It’s
not you, it’s me.”
Feeling unsexy and undignified, I was
sceptical when, a few days later, a friend
booked me in for a fitting at Bravissimo
– a lingerie company that fit bras for
women with a D to a K cup. I didn’t want
to go – bras ruin lives – but what else
could I do? After my road-rage incident,
it was clear my underwear was turning
me into a person with severe anger
issues. “It isn’t the bra, it’s me that’s the
odd shape,” I squeaked within minutes
of arriving. I suddenly felt guilty for
dobbing on my drawful of 34DDs.
Sophie – my fitter – raised her
eyebrow like she’d heard it all before
and, as she led me to the changing room,
I felt like I was lying about an abusive
boyfriend. “Eighty per cent of women
wear the wrong bra size,” she explained.
“You sound like one of them.”
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Hmm, interesting – maybe it
wasn’t me. Thirty seconds later,
I’d whipped my top off and
assumed position.
“Why have you got your
arms in the air and why are
your eyes closed?”
I peeked in the
mirror – I looked like a
seven-year-old waiting
to be dressed in a vest.
“Because you need
to put the tape measure
around me and it might
be cold?”
Sophie shook her head. “We
don’t use tape measures here,
they don’t work. We assess the
breasts visually.” Oh. Previously,
quite a few men have told me
they had this gift and I’d told them
to stick it. Clearly, I should have
been kinder.
After staring at my chest and
assuring me that my bigger right boob
was perfectly normal (good job – I’ve
had it for quite a while now), Sophie
reappeared with not the granny bras
I was expecting, but colourful and sexy
bras that, wait for it, ALL fitted me.
No digging. No unsightly bulges. No
movement when I jumped about like
a jack-in-a-box.
“Strapless, T-shirt, balconette…
I’d done everything I could to make this
relationship work”
Even better, as my wonderful new
bra-drobe was being packed up at the
till, something so fab caught my eye that
I began to wheeze.
“What on earth does that say?” I said
pointing at the label of one of the bras.
“It says 32FF” she replied with a smile.
“That is your size.” Bravissimo indeed.
As for my DDs, now I’ve got real
support, I’ve dumped the lot. All except
for one, which – next time I experience a
dose of self-doubt – will remind me to say
something a whole lot sooner: “It’s not
me – it’s YOU.”
Here’s the
thing…
I DON’T
LOOK
LIKE LILY
ALLEN, SO
WHY DO
ALL TAXI DRIVERS
INSIST THAT I AM
HER? THE FIRST
LILY AND DAWN:
SEPARATED
AT BIRTH?
TIME IT HAPPENED,
I HAD TO SHOW MY
I.D. TO PROVE I
WASN’T SHE. THE
SECOND TIME, MY
BOYFRIEND HAD TO
SPEND THE ENTIRE
JOURNEY TRYING TO
CONVINCE HIM. AND
THE THIRD TIME,
THE CABBY WAS SO
DETERMINED I WAS HER
THAT I JUST GAVE IN AND
TOLD HIM IT WAS TRUE.
THAT WAS ACTUALLY FUN,
AND HE DIDN’T MAKE ME
PAY FOR THE RIDE. WILL
DEFFO GO WITH THAT
TACTIC IN FUTURE.
NAIL�ART�
NOT�ALWAYS
A�BRIGHT�IDEA
I'm currently in Los Angeles
and decided to get some
3D nail art on my big toes,
in the form of three little
lumpy flowers.
When I was
sitting in the
salon getting
it done, I
thought it
looked really
quite cool.
But then,
when I stood up and looked
at the design from a distance,
it just looked like bird poo.
Not cool. Won’t be doing
that again!
MY NEW TOENAILS:
ONLY GOOD CLOSE UP
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ARMANI���JASMINESTUDIOS�COM���DAWN�WEARS�VEST��BANANA�REPUBLIC��JACKET��AMERICAN�RETRO��JEANS��DAWN'S�OWN��SHOES��KAREN�MILLEN��WATCH��THOMAS�SABO
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