Heather's Wish List: A Girl Can Dream

I love H.K.M. I've followed Hannah Metz's blog for so long and loved her vintage line and underwear line and now her clothing line. Check out her photography website as well <3

 

J.W Anderson Gold Plated Embellished Hoop Earrings 

Isson Gunta Sunglasses in Caramel 

Pendleton Blanket

Going Braless with dem Double D's

Hat: Vintage
Pin: Gift
Ring: Available at Shine
Watch: Redbox Apparel
Top: American Apparel
Shorts: Redbox Apparel
Shoes: Converse

I am that classic pubescent story of the girl who got teased for having no tits. All the other girls in school were getting their first bras, or as we called them in our obvious maturity; "over the shoulder boulder holders". Classic. I on the other hand was patiently waiting for mine to come in. I didn't want big ol' titties. Just enough to fill a cup so I could have a bra. In the glorious summer before grade 9 puberty hit me straight in the ass... and thighs... and waist... and of course the mammaries.  And just like magic my breasts went from lil lumps to DD's. I walked into school the fall of grade 9 to the question of "where did those come from Heather?!" constantly. My boobs wouldn't stop growing out of everything my mom bought for me. So the fact that every kid I went to elementary school with was asking me where my masses came from, coupled with a summer of borrowing my mother's bathing suit until I stopped developing, I developed a complex. 

I HATED my breasts, in high school they seemed to be a main focus. In part, because of my insecurities but also because they actually did seem to be the main focus. If someone didn't remember my name they'd say 'you know that girl that looks like Hannah except with the big boobs?' or I had a gal pal that would full on grope me in the hallway in front of people and say "I wish I had big boobs". When my friends teased me I'd be Tits McGee. Or people would just constantly point out that I had really big boobs. All this attention mixed with my natural teenage insecurities made me miserable about the way I looked.

Being from a small town I had limited access to cool and trendy clothing. The first issue was that I obviously needed some bras. I couldn't wear my mom's old ones forever, but I wanted cute ones. Like the one's my small tittied friends had with polka dots or fucking glitter or whatever. You can imagine what kind of bras a small town would have for a chesty teen. Either they were those granny beige monstrosities that I wouldn't want to be caught dead in in case my peers would make fun of me or think I was tragically uncool, or they had bras that were waaaaay to mature and sexualized for a 15 year old. I'm trying to flirt with teen boys not seduce their fathers! Jeeze. I felt out of place, embarrassed, and ashamed of my body. I cried to my mother constantly about getting a breast reduction. My breasts felt unnatural to me.