Braless
She was beautiful – caramel skin, slender limbs, the kind of fashion sense that immediately made you feel dowdy and out-of-touch. With a golden stud nestled delicately in the dip of her nose, my coworker wore brown oxfords and tights in a way that somehow made her seem New-York-City-cool, not Little-Girl-Pretending. She also never wore a bra. At the time, I was near my largest weight, trying to figure out what to wear to work now that I wasn't a teacher and lacking any real awareness of what's fashionable. And I would never, ever, let my DD+ chest out in public without being properly restrained. So droopy! So floppy! So obscene! And yet. She was not small chested – she might have been nearly as big-in-the-boobs as me. But she didn't seem to care. And neither did anyone else. It was all just a part of her general aesthetic. I chalked it up to her being cooler than me and skinny. Skinny people can get away with a lot that fat people can't. Fast forward 7 years or so...