"The sad day I discovered it was time to get rid of my boobs."

Last week, I made a very shocking discovery.

As I was scrolling through my phone, barely able to see over my offensively large chest, I came across some very important, breaking news.

Vogue has declared the death of cleavage. It’s out of fashion, you see.

It’s like when testicles went out of style in 2013. Remember that? Remember?

As Coco Chanel famously said “Before you leave the house, look in the mirror and take at least one thing off,” and this season, it’s your boobies.

Give it a month, and shops will stop selling them. They’re as dated as tinted sunglasses, or a Supre t-shirt that reads “Naughty Gal”.

And women everywhere need to be alert, so we can stop doing this and embarrassing ourselves. 

STOP IT. Image via Giphy.

"Whatever shall I do?" I asked myself.

Then, I immediately began brainstorming. There was really no time to waste.

I could feel everyone staring at me. I might as well have been wearing three quarter, glitter jeans and a boob tube with a goddamn SHARK TOOTH NECKLACE.

Just like that, I'd become lame AF.

Luckily, I've always carried with me an emergency skivvy, just in case this kind of crisis ever arose.

It's the middle of Spring, but none of that matters.

Listen to Holly Wainwright, Mia Freedman and Jessie Stephens discuss Vogue's claim that boobs are now out of fashion. Post continues below.


I rushed home, realising I probably wasn't going to be able to wear a skivvy everyday, and immediately burned all the tops currently hanging in my wardrobe.

I raided my drawers to try and find the receipt for this pair of double D breasts I'd bought on sale at Zara last season, but it was nowhere to be found. 

"Could I return them without a receipt?" I wondered.

But THEN I remembered my small stint with the Amish community, and realised I could totally recycle some of my cute old outfits!

YES! Image via iStock.

OH! And my time at the nunnery. Who would have though that nuns were so on fleek?

Straight from the pages of next month's Vogue. Image via Filmax.

Suddenly, I began to feel very hopeful. Liberated even.

When I'd purchased my breasts at 14 from the well known department store, called 'Puberty', I had done so with the intention of attracting the male gaze.

Everywhere I've gone in the last 12 years, whether it be the gym, school, a job interview or even a funeral, my primary aim has obviously been to seduce the men around me.

To present myself as a sex object, or as Vogue writer Kathleen Baird-Murray so elequontely puts it, to "inspire lust".

That is why I chose to have boobs this size. For the patriarchy. 

Now that I've been ordered to put them into storage, I can finally STOP being such a show off. And be my real (?) small breasted self. WOOHOO.

...WTF? Image via Giphy.

So, to any woman looking to pack away the ol' set for the next few months, then I'd recommend purchasing one of those wonderful plastic storage bags, where you suck the air out of them with a vacuum.

They're really funny to use, and it means you can just pop them away in the cupboard, until it's time to dust them off.

Until then, fare the well ,boobies.

You can listen to the full episode of Mamamia Out Loud, here.