I was partying away, oblivious that only a few minutes later, my super-dooper-no-straps-no-backs bra was about to take on a life of its own. First it felt like it had decided to move down towards my tummy button, then, in a flash, it started moving vertically. The next thing I knew, I had one boob on my right shoulder, the other under my left armpit and my two real ones bouncing around to the disco beats...
The next question is: how are you supposed to get a grasp on the silicone and stick it back in place without anyone noticing?
It was a bit like trying to leap on a fish that you have just hauled out of the pond and that has every intention of not doing as you would wish. They squealed and squelched, refusing to stick or stay in place.
A trip to the ladies ensued.
To my huge disappointment, the result was far from long-lasting.
By the end of the night I seriously contemplated telling everyone they were the new ashtrays. Shame Italy passed that law last year, or else I would have!
Rabbit ears? No, what men should never see!
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