Life as an A-cup (Or AAA...is that even on the scale?) in an uncensored and unclassified manner. Squeezing together chest skin for a Scarlett Johansson come hither look. This account is from a fully grown, completely surpassed adolescent adult of thirty-something standing in front of the mirror. Staring at the chest that never progressed further than permanent mosquito bites. Wondering why all those gallons of mint ice cream scoops and double chocolate covered creamed filled biscuits have not distributed evenly to her chest. No, even the glorious food has chosen to be spiteful. Travelling straight down to stubbornly stay strapped around the child bearing hips and thunder thighs for that all too flattering Telly Tubby archetype.

Do you share similar experiences? Are you able to resonate with the woes of having tiny tots? Whether it be you; your best friend (BFF to be precise); your sister; or your colleague who have cried out “Why me?” “Why do I deserve these molehills?” you can understand and commiserate with this adversity.

What you’ll encounter is an outline about breasts being a vital functionality organ. To their evolution throughout history in the eyes of society. To the beginning of brassieres and their purposes through to the variations that businesses have conceived. To society’s infatuation about breasts and their role within the entertainment industry as a commodity. To viewpoints from both spectrums of the A-team through to the D-team, to tell you to toughen up and embody the benefits of being small breasted because there is an abundance, truly!

Food for thought is what the primary intention is, as the A-team deserve a platform to be heard and spoken for with affection!