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For years and years I’ve been wearing bras in a size 36B. It’s what I feel comfortable in, it’s what fits me best. Or so I thought. The other day I was in Nordstrom looking for a new nude bra that isn’t horribly ugly and boring, and asked the salesgirl if she had a certain bra in my size in the back. She took one look at me, cocked her eyebrow and said, “You’re not a 36B.””Yes I am. It’s what I’ve been wearing for years.””No, you’re not”After I finished being stubborn about my size, I asked her what size I am. She whipped out her tape measure (which was a semi-uncomfortable experience, I’m not a prude and I’m not uncomfortable with my body, but I don’t make it a habit of showing my boobs to complete strangers, sorry Girls Gone Wild) and proceeded to inform me that I’m actually a perfect 32D.”You’re joking. I’m not a D cup. No way.”You see, I’m on the small side on top. Not flat to be sure, but I’ve always been pretty slim and not overly endowed in the boobage department (my sister got the boob gene). But sure enough, she brought a selection of 32D bras in for me to try and they all fit perfectly, if not a little tight around the band. But being that I’m so used to 36 bands feeling kind of loose, that was to be expected. Turns out when you go down in band size you go up in cup size. I had no idea. So now I am in the process of restocking my bra collection to my new size. I bought a few Calvin Kleins (the best bras out there if you ask me) and have a lot more to go. I’m loving the Elle MacPherson intimates collection, as well as the Betsy Johnson lingerie line. Stella McCartney has a great lingerie line too, but when I get to the point where I feel like spending $150 on a bra is justified, I’ll let you know.I told my friend Alison about my bra sizing adventure. The first thing she did was look me up and down and say the words I’m sure I’ll hear now quite often.”You’re not a D-cup!”

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