I had an experience like that. I told the saleslady "Star Fruit," and when she asked what cup size that was, I said "No, that's her stage name."
This thread reminds me of college and a measurement system. I can't recall the name of each unit, but there was a conversion system and I recall there were 4 mouthfuls to a handful I think. It all started at Harvard and spread to other campuses (campi?)
I totally support (irony noted) the movement to go braless. It's got to be more comfortable and there's the obvious titillation factor (no pun intended)
As a newbie here I can tell you that there's not very much thinking because of the visual images being conjured up.
Sometime when my mom was probably around 80-ish, after Christmas dinner at my sis's, someone in the younger gen mentioned something about a wet t-shirt contest. Now my parents were very old school devout Christians, yet both were quite realistic about the human condition. Mom asked what kind of a contest that was. Nobody spoke up, so I told her: Young women are braless with only a t-shirt on top, then they get sprayed with a hose and the guys vote on who "wins." Well she (and my dad) thought that was quite hilarious, much the surprise of the younger folks. Not so much to me and my sisses, we knew Mom was pretty cool about such things. RIP Mom (1915-2002)
Having sisters that participate, would take the enjoyment out of a wet T-shirt contest for a brother, I would imagine. I never purposely went to a wet t-shirt contest but participated when a car wash water fight started. I would win the water spraying portion but never won the boob portion. Sometimes I even sprayed myself for the extra effect but to no avail. SIGH!
My sisters were never IN one. Where did you see that? They and I knew our folks were very realistic about life, and it wasn't all that surprising to us that our mom laughed once I explained to her what it was.
My mistake. I was just thinking about in my early teens on the ranch and the nearest neighbors had three teen boys that were the nearest thing to brothers that I knew. If another boy in school made some comment that was derogatory about my lack of boobs, they would get in a fight, and then their parents were contacted and whichever one was involved always thought he would get off easy since he was protecting my reputation. Their mom reminded them that I could take care of myself. Wet t-shirts were no big deal on a ranch. I went braless even at 16 and wore a light t-shirt or tank top and it got sweat-soaked quickly on hot days. No one thought anything about it, even the fake brothers. If they did I never knew.