The Great Padded Bra Incident of 1982

When I was but a young lass of 11, I wore a bra. Well, not just one, I actually had a few bras, but I only wore them one at a time.

One of my bras was padded and the boys at school noticed that every few days I would be um...larger than the day before. They started calling me "Stuffer" and telling people that I stuffed my bra with kleenex. There was even a story going around that someone had yelled to me, "Hey, your kleenex is showing!" and I immediately looked down and checked my bra.

For the record: THAT STORY IS UNTRUE.

First of all, there is no way my mother would let me burn through the amount of paper products needed to adequately fill out an 11 year old's training bra. Frugal, thy name is Michele. (Another name my mother is known by: She Who Shops 51 Weeks In Advance of Gift-Giving Holidays)

Second, this particular story was spread by a certain nemesis I will refer to as The Evil Boy. (I would print his name here, but I'm not going to give him the satisfaction that Google will provide.) Suffice it to say, The Evil Boy, starting in the 4th grade, plagued me throughout much of my childhood with merciless teasing and sand in my hair and really mean nicknames like the aforementioned Stuffer and Beaker and Bob Hope Nose and Geritol and Jerry's Kids. (I didn't say his nicknames were creative.)

The Great Padded Bra Incident of 1982 was only the beginning of The Years I Hated My Body. (Looking back, it's funny that I say I hated my body when, in fact, my misery at the time was based on a padded bra. If you look at it as a math equation it becomes Padded Bra + Evil Boy = Misery. Oh, and Mom, don't feel guilty that I was miserable. You totally saved me from The Evil Boy in 5th grade when you requested that I not have him in another class with me ever again. Sadly, his evil could not be contained by the simple four walls of a classroom.) I went through junior high and high school and the first year of college thinking I was too short or too fat or my hair was too straight or my feet were too smelly. (Actually, my feet were and are smelly beasts as I seem to have stolen the feet of a 15 year old boy who never changes his socks.)

Just so you know, once I realized what part of the equation (X + Evil Boy = Misery. Solve for X.) was causing my misery, I stopped wearing the padded bra. Except for in my bedroom, when I stuffed it with socks and paraded around in front of my mirror like a Vegas showgirl.

(I did NOT just type that.)

I do have a point here, I think. (Although telling the story about The Evil Boy and The Nickname That Nearly Killed Me At The Age of Eleven has been rather cathartic.)

First: Don't let your daughters have padded bras. (I think there's a John Mayer song in there somewhere.)

Second: Don't try to combine padded bras and stupid boys in the same post where you try to get all algebraic on the CGB, especially if you only include the math parts because you want Sarah J to think you are cool. (Look at me! I know some math! Whee! I'm so cool!)

By the way, I still see The Evil Boy quite often (one of the joys of living where you grew up) and you know what? HE IS STILL EVIL. I bet you thought I was going to say that he turned out nice and sweet and even apologized once for all the pain he brought to my childhood, BUT NO. When you are 28 years old and camping with your husband and your children and The Evil Boy Who Is Now A Man Who Really Should Know Better But Is Really Just a Taller, Hairier Evil Boy is at the same campground for a family reunion and at some point, someone throws firecrackers and smoke bombs in your cabin while you and your children are inside only to find The Evil Boy Who Is Now A Man Who Really Should Know Better But Is Really Just a Taller, Hairier Evil Boy lurking in the bushes and snickering, it will do nothing but bring up bad memories and a desire to carry sharp knives and handkerchiefs with which to wipe away the fingerprints.

Comments

[Aimee Roo]

I have always wondered why some people never grow up past elementary school, or high school.

Oh, and I always wore a padded bra when I was young, and mine are still slightly padded, to avoid having "chocolate chips" showing when it's cold. ;)

[DanaLee]

Isn't it funny how back in the day stuffing your bra was the issue and nowadays I would give anything to lop some of the "twins" off and share them with a struggling 11 yr old stuffer.

[Erin P.]

Hm. I am reminded of how I started to get breasts when I was 12. And of how the boy who sat behind me in Science snapped my right bra strap. And how I whirled around with my arm bent and hit him full force in the face with my elbow.

No one ever teased me again. Not for anything.

Though I think the same boy ran over my mother's dog a couple of years later. We moved away when I was 16. To another small and pathetic town, with a story of its own....

[Maven]

Yikes! Not sure which is worse, a padded bra or those horrible Dime Store bras my mom used to get for me, which had stitching on the cups in a spiral, thus forming each titty into perfect cones. This of course was about five years prior to Madonna made cone bras, and by default pointy titties, fashionable for all of five minutes in the late 80s or early 90s. I am forever scarred with my junior high school nickname, "Torpedo Tits." I feel your padded bra pain....

[Shelly]

I don't have a bra story (well, except that I found out I needed one in 5th grade when a 6th grader wrote me a note saying "get a f-ing bra!" in gym class...)

...but my daughter has an Evil Boy in her class. In fact, she has three. She tells me all the time of the things they do to her every day at school. Call her names, follow her around and say mean things to her.

It's funny, because I also had an Evil Boy too that did the same stuff. And one thing that I've discovered is that the reason girls have an "Evil Boy" is because "Evil Boy = Boy in Love with You and Doesn't Know How to Act". I discovered this late rin life, when my "Evil Boy" decided to tell me he'd actually been madly in love with me, and thought the only way he could get my attention and make me think of him was to be as mean as possible to me.

I sent my daughter to school about a month ago, with the "I think you love me" song (from Miss Congeniality) to sing to her "Evil Boys". You know what? First time she sang it to them, they stopped in their tracks. They all went "Nuh-uh!" ...

and walked away.

They know she knows.

Hahahahahahahaha.

It was so awesome to see her come home and say "It worked! You were right! They left me alone!"

I'll have to remember this "mom being right" story for later on - when she's a teenager and she thinks I'm wrong about everything. (Everything is ammo for later on. Must. Keep. Track.)

[M]

My evil boy from elementary school was later arrested in high school for dealing pot. Mmm... good karma....

[Jenna]

I didn't stuff. I was also the girl who had her bra strap snapped constantly. I was always that girl about which the boys made comments more often about my chest than they actually made about me.

[Lisa]

My evil boy died in a motor cycle accident shortly after we graduated.

I feel guilty that I was kinda relieved at the time. I guess I should feel bad that he never had a chance to change his ways.

[Heather Oman]

I still wear padded bras, and I'm almost thirty. Best thing ever invented, if you ask me!

[April]

I never needed a padded bra, but got unwanted attention anyway.

My evil boy had begun as my crush, but he turned really mean. He did change, though, and at the end of our senior year of high school, he gave me his senior picture and had written an apology on the back. He admitted he'd been really rotten to me. I tried to deny it, but he interrupted and said, "Yes, I was, but I'm really sorry." I guess some people can change.

[Chelsee Lee Young]

i am 12 years old. i just started wearing padded bras this year. nobody has noticed that the pictures on my myspace i am flat and then when i go to school i have boobs. when they do...im screwed. i hope i dont have a boy that teases me.