Think big breasts are fun? Try owning a pair like mine

Believe you me, larger bosoms are a mixed blessing. From Katie Price to Dolly Parton and taking in Ann Widdecombe along the way, if you sport a cup size above DD it’ll often feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. Or your ribcage, at least.

Having a big bust is a bit like being a dwarf, having no hair or being very fat: it’s an open invitation for people to offer you the benefit of their opinion about something that is none of their business whatsoever. I have had complete strangers ask me if they can ‘have a feel’ on the basis that they’re not convinced my twin assets are God’s gift, rather than the result of a surgeon, a large cheque and a bicycle pump.

On the whole, I’ve found that women get far more het up about hooters than men: worrying about whether they’re too big, too small, too lop-sided, too many miles down their journey south or too damn magnificent for this world (or is that just me?). Men normally have a far less complicated approach to breasts: they like them, they like looking at them and they wish we’d wear wet t-shirts a little more often.

Let’s put it this way: I have rarely had a conversation with a man along the lines of whether I am betraying my gender because I’m wearing a low-cut top. Yet recently, in a monthly style magazine, a female fashion writer stated that cleavages and large bosoms were ‘out’. This, of course, for those of us who aren’t stuffing socks in our bras or are Kerry Katatonic-like yo-yo plastic surgery addicts, is quite bad news.

Short of strapping myself into a surgical truss, I’m stuck with my chest until the day I shuffle off to meet my maker. Flaunt it and I’m ‘out’, cover it up and somehow it looks even bigger or worse, transforms into some kind of monstrous ‘uni-boob’ shelf you could rest a cup of tea on.

And look at the fashion advice those of us with melons rather than grapes are expected to embrace in an attempt to “minimise a larger chest”. “Large handbags tend to draw attention away from the bust and make your breasts appear smaller in relation to the sheer size of the bag,” suggests one fashion writer.

Fabulous: as if carrying a huge set of Eartha Kitts around all day, every day, isn’t enough, now we’ve got to carry a suitcase to offset our rack as well – it’s a fast track to a dowager’s hump by the age of 30.

In my experience, larger-chested ladies have the choice of working three looks: (a) nursing earth mother (b) blousy trollop or (c) imposing matron/nit nurse.

Wear a v-neck and half the population will address any conversation with you to your chest, wear a polo-neck and you’ll look as if you’re about to stick a thermometer up someone’s rectum. Sports bras make you look like an extra from The Return of the Mummy, opt for the no bra look and discover that your chest keeps moving for a good ten seconds after you’ve stood still.

Just to add insult to injury (literal injury if you try jogging with the no-bra option) retailers such as Marks and Spencer charge us more for bigger cup sizes claiming that the ‘specialist work’ required to make a buxom bra justifies the price hike. They’re talking about all that scaffolding and the hydraulics, I expect.