Just call me Becky the Braless Wonder, no really, I insist. I am making it a goal this week to wear a bra as few times as possible. If Posh can do it and keep her name and reputation, so can I! (My stipulations include when working out and if Prince William invites me to meet his mother – both of these instances require support without the risk of showing too much.) It is summer time, unless of course you live in the southern hemisphere, and a beauty of the warm weather going braless. In holding up to the true hippy I have decided this is an appropriate, and long overdue goal.

I am free, therefore my lovely A/B cups should be as well. My predictions: I will start hunching over to hide them, or throw away the rainbow assortment of brassieres I own.

Today I’m grateful for donuts, Volvic, and boot camp class (to kick my ass)!

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