We’ve all heard of Ann Lander’s pencil test: If you can hold up a pencil you need to wear a bra.
I never could hold up a pencil. All through my teens it was my dream that someday I’d be able to support that pencil. I kept thinking, “Maybe when I’m older…” I was well into my twenties when I finally had to accept the fact that I’d never be able to hold up that pencil.
They say that you’d better be careful what you wish for because you just might get your wish, only it might not be quite what you had in mind.
At thirty-three my wish finally came true. Finally I could hold up a pencil, only then I wished that I couldn’t. Whoever would have thought that an under-endowed bosom could rest on an ever-expanding middle-age spread in such a way as to be able to hold up a pencil?
