#luv 2 transcribe literally 2 unnecessary pages' worth of brainbuzz.

[aeide-thea]

absolutely the most boring braindump of a Post Abt Chest Management Solutions, lmao, ergo cut for length—

am hanging around in one of the cotton fruit of the loom ~bralettes~ i bought recently (3 for $15! unbelievable bargain probably made possible by a sweatshop somewhere! no ethical consumption &c!), which like—truly is any word better designed 2 induce dysphoria. like i already hated talking abt myself and bras in the same sentence and now: a further feminizing diminutive suffix!! rigged for hir displeasure!—and thinking like.

(1) thrilled to have found an approach 2 the problem [some people call their tits 'the girls.' i call mine 'the problem.'] that's as comfortable as these. like i accidentally slept in one last night because i didn't get the discomfort cue that normally prompts me to strip down for sleep. extremely can't complain in that regard.

(1b) …does that mean i should really try a size down for better more flattening compression tho. very possibly! but i guess really it depends on whether this set shrinks in the wash much, so like. stay tuned.

(2) the fabric of these is still probably too heavy for really hot weather, i'm guessing, and regardless of thickness cotton just inherently absorbs rather than wicking, so. problem not fully solved. but for the current warm-but-not-sweltering temps these are pretty good. definitely an improvement over nylon against clammy skin.

(3) it continues to be deeply baffling to me that so many people, if the market is to be believed, prefer non-racerback straps for everyday wear. like—these bralettes i bought are essentially just incredibly basic cropped camisoles with some elastic at the bottom hem, and while they weren't totally horrendous in that configuration, i unpicked the stitching on the straps and reattached them at the center back to make a rough-and-ready racerback like so: _\/_ and it was just. immediately vastly more comfortable not to have the straps crossing my shoulder blades. like i accept that we're all different and have different prefs but part of me is just like '…are ppl who prefer that style sure that isn't just familiarity/false consciousness speaking tho.'

(4) the one thing abt these bralettes that still isn't really ideal, but which would be a much bigger project to fix, is that like. not all of us need this much fabric along the vertical axis, lol. like obviously they make these as long as they do to accommodate the amount of tissue in larger chests, and like, thumbs up for that, but for those of us who don't present with that degree of convexity, it's just like. this garment could've been a solid inch shorter and still accomplished its goals?? and so you wind up with extra fabric and either have to roll the band up to reel in the slack or else just live with it bunching up in the eaves, and like, neither approach is totally terrible but. could be better!!

and yeah, i could unpick the stitching on the elastic and cut an inch off the bottom and then work out how to reassemble things, but like. the strap relocation was easy and i could do it by hand while watching tv, whereas elastic is intimidating and also that's more sewing than i really want to do by hand. so in theory i'd want to figure out how to do it on the machine which. is also intimidating. so i'm just living with it, at least for now.

finally & probably most importantly (5) spending this much brainspace [i mean like. just look at this stupid fucking hydra of a post.] on Problem Management does make me mad, lol. like. most of the time it just feels easier to accept the situation and strap it down to something ignorable than to seek out a surgical remedy that's separated from me by so many barriers (expense/current lack of insurance, soc anx, perfectionism, serious uncertainty abt whether it would actually on the whole be an improvement vs just Differently Wrong, fear of increased transphobia), but when it's like. well now i'm having to actively engage with the problem and spend time and thought and money and effort on it anyway, just in ways that make me feel powerless and resentful rather than self-actualized and hopeful… blegh.