Yet another body image post; sorry, folks!
It’s summer (well as summery as it gets in England), and that means strappy tops or even (gasp) strapless tops, and with both of these items of clothing comes armpit fat.
Yes, armpit fat; fat armpits. This is, quite possibly, the most ridiculous hang up I have, but there it is.
I don’t mean that my actual armpits themselves are fat; it’s that little pocket of unwanted podge that escapes from the side of your bra strap and nestles next to your armpit. If you’re a slender lady, this simply transpires as a crease, because, you know, our arms need to move and all. For slightly bigger ladies (sigh), there’s the aforementioned nugget of flesh. Not cool, armpits; not cool!
I tried googling a picture of this and really struggled, but I know that this is ‘a thing’! How do I know this? Because I’ve written promotional blurb for plastic surgery companies that specifically target this area, so it’s real; it’s ‘a thing’, ok? Moreover, Jennifer Lawrence (who rocks) knows what I’m talking about. My girl J-Law calls them armpit vaginas. I quote; ‘I know I have armpit fat, it’s ok… it’s armpit vaginas…My dress is squeezing my breasts into my armpits.’ I didn’t think I could love the girl any more than I do, but it turns out I can.
But apparently, I have it all wrong anyway; according to one pro, it’s simply part of your boob. Maria Sharapova, who incidentally kicked ass at this year’s French Open taking the title (woohoo!), has armpit vaginas, and if a professional sportswoman, who’s clearly in peak fitness, ‘suffers’ then they can’t be fat; can they?
Fat or not, I still hate them.