Dear Bronques,

Recently I went bra shopping, trying on different colors and designs and experimenting with the latest patent-pending species of support. You can understand why this process fascinates and thrills me. However, this time it wasn't quite the same. I was informed by the soft-spoken woman at Agent Provocateur that my 20-year-old bust has grown from a previously voluptuous size, to an inconvenient double D. Suddenly, my selection of bras has diminished and old men are getting happier and happier to see me.


Milan is deeply suspicious of strangers

This was the first time in my life that I considered getting a reduction. I thought about it seriously; all the new styles of clothes and lingerie I'd be able to where, how much freedom I would have to run around without the budunka-dunk bounce, and how much better it would suit my well-spoken, pseudo-good girl persona. Then I visited your site, looked at the girls and boys, and at the cornucopia of boobs and thighs. Not only did I love the way these people appreciated their bodies, I respected the pride they carried for them. Finally, the straw the pushed me back to a "They're-mine-and-I'm-keepin-'em" state of mind was the one photo of me. Arched back, breasts out, jaw-line slightly hinted at by the florescent bathroom light. I saw this and thought about how curvy I am, how womanly I've become, how much my body defines my attitude and how much I truly enjoy my attitude.

I am writing this to you, Bronques, to thank you for not only capturing me but also immortalizing people in the raw. You know that your site is fun to look at but I don't think you realize that, perhaps, just a little bit, you are encouraging and spreading tolerance, acceptance and love with every click of that little camera of yours.

Milan