Erin Go Bra-Less

Erin Colleen Romano was born on St. Patrick’s Day; March 17th, 1949, at 3:17 a.m. to Carmella {nee: Pasquale} and Frank Romano; in two Italian families when you ALWAYS named your bambinos after the father if the baby was a boy or after the maternal grandmother if a girl, or in a final option; in honor of the ordained-to-be Italian Godparent. It was considered a Romano family law back in those days. Erin’s parents, however, abolished that law and blew it right out of the holy water with the announcement of their own choice of first and middle names for their newborn daughter. The shocking news also had Carmella’s parents going to confession every day pouring out their hearts {and naturally, their souls} to St. Michael’s parish priest about their daughter’s and son-in-law’s blasphemous, tradition-in-heritage homicide.

So it was from that first day after officially being baptized {the families had still held out their hopes, prayers and rosaries until then that Carmella and Frank would come to their senses}, that Erin Colleen Romano was thought between the two Italian families’ monarchies as certainly a love and a blessing; but certainly, simply because of her “foreign” name, as potentially being “somewhat different”.

And so it went for Erin - through her cuddly infancy, bubbly childhood, moody puberty, and, quite the opposite of her same generation boisterous relatives; through her shy and soft spoken teen years - the prophesized “somewhat different.”

Erin’s life otherwise was like most teenage girls growing up in an Italian neighborhood on Staten Island, New York back in the sixties; listening to 45 RPM records, talking on Princess style phones that were attached to a teen’s ear as if soldered in place, and rating all the new songs on American Bandstand with Dick Clark and his Philadelphia show’s dance regulars. Of course, keeping abreast of the current lowdown as to what twirler was going steady with what jock, was considered a civic duty to a teen then, too. You had to keep a weekly update with that kind of gossip when you were in your final year of high school, as Erin was that year. It was in the decade of free love, draft dodgers, flower power, and burning your bras in protest of something - or nothing. It didn’t matter in that “walk on the wild side” era. It was 1967, and Erin Colleen Romano was, quite surprisingly for the “make love – not war” times, still a virgin.

And, so it was on the first Friday afternoon in March of that year, that Erin was in one of the countless telephone marathons had between two teenage girls. The number one discussion was always about the opposite sex, of course, but it then usually came around to beauty tips. And the topic: “How to Attract Men” {not just boys, but real men} was the top headline of this day’s hot info. And the answer to that worldly mystery was, in a nutshell; to grow voluptuous breasts, {with the proper use of exercise and creams}, in a matter of no time. Erin’s best-friend-in-the-whole- universe was Maria {named after HER maternal grandmother, of course}, that began the conversation about the irresistible, sexual attraction of large breasts.

“Erin! I have just read an article on how Annette Funicello developed those mammoth boobs of hers! Have you seen her on the cover of this month’s ‘Teen’ edition? She’s posed in profile with Frankie Avalon, and her chest is so huge, it looks like it’s going to fall off the front cover when you open the magazine!” Maria was so excited; Erin had to move the receiver away from her ear just to avoid going deaf from her friend’s outburst of enthusiasm.

“Maria, cool it!” Erin laughed into the phone as she cautiously replaced the earpiece to her ear. “We are both almost eighteen now – and I don’t think we have much chance of growing an addition onto our boobs at our age!” She was now shaking her head in disbelief at just the thought of how gullible her friend was. “You can’t believe everything you read! It’s all a matter of heredity, anyway. Annette’s mother and grandmother probably are big chested, and that’s where she got the tendency for being well endowed. If it’ll make you feel any better; think about this, Maria. Both our moms still have it going for them; cleavage and all! And they are OLD! They have to be in their forties by now, but they’re still looking good! So, with proper posture, and our moms’ genes, we’ll get by. We both should just accept the fact that we are in the ‘What you see is what you get’ class.”

“Yeah, it’s easy for YOU to say, Erin!” Maria rebutted. “I’m still wearing the same cup size as I did when I was thirteen! Since then, the only thing that has gotten larger for me is the size of my shoes! But the only problem YOU seem to have is that you are right in between the ‘Annette boobs’ class and the ‘What you see is what you get’ class. And actually, it’s more like ‘What you DON’T see is what you will be in shock, but very happy to get’ class! You have what most girls in school would give up their college tuitions for- including me! Instead of flaunting what you’ve got going for you; you actually try to hide them! If I had the equipment you have, I’d be fueling those protest bonfires with every last one of my bras, and letting it ‘all hang out’!” Maria now broke out into another loud gale of laughter.

Erin was growing tired of the conversation at this point, and strained to get the cord of her phone over to her bedroom door; attempting to get her mother’s attention. She waved to her mom who was putting away towels in the hall linen closet, and gestured that she wanted her to pretend to call her for dinner. Carmella picked up on her daughter’s cue, and called out that she needed her right then and there.

“Maria, I’ve got to go now. My mom is calling me to set the table for dinner. Maybe we’ll catch a movie this evening. Talk to ya later!” and without giving her friend time to say another word; she hung up her phone.

As Erin thanked her mom for the reprieve, she walked back into her room to place the phone back on the nightstand. Then, she sat on the edge of her bed; thinking about the last remarks her best friend had made before she hung up. The truth of the matter was; Erin was embarrassed of her breasts. At five foot three and 112 pounds, she was slender and petite in frame, but in her mind, the majority of her feather weight appeared to be on her chest – and she did everything she could to hide this fact from the world.

She lay back on her bed; gazing at the ceiling, as her memory drifted back to the first time her mother announced they were going bra shopping together. One warm spring afternoon, her mom had taken her out on the back porch; two bowls of strawberry ice cream {Erin’s favorite} on a tray, and sat Erin down to have their first chat about the now apparent need for training bras. Erin had just turned ten.

“TRAINING BRAS?!? No, Mom! I don’t want to wear them! I like my undershirts just fine! Those things- those things with hooks and metal bars on the shoulders will KILL me!” she whined, as she spooned the first of the ice cream into her mouth.

“Erin honey,” her mom began, “Those ‘metal bars’ that you are worried about are just little clasps that allow you to adjust the straps. And you will get used to the difference in the way a bra fits and feels. Your undershirts no longer are appropriate for your emerging womanhood. You are growing up into a lovely young lady, and its time you wore the proper undergarments. You will thank me later for starting you now on the right support.”

“Erin! I really DO need you down here now to set the table for dinner!”

“Ok, Mom, I’ll be right there!” Erin yelled down to her mother as her train of reflective thought was broken for the moment. As she lifted herself off the bed and went to open her door to head downstairs, she stole a glance of her reflection in the door mirror and paused.

She looked at herself for a moment and took a mental critique of a young woman that, in just another week, would be eighteen. She stepped closer to the mirror now; her eyes surveying her entire presentation at first; then dissecting parts of her anatomy in self evaluation. She began with her hair; shoulder length, deep chestnut brown and slightly wavy, that was swept behind her ears at the moment, and showed off perfectly flat to her head; just- right- in -size ears. “Well, so far, so good” she said to herself, as her eyes continued down to her face. Her skin was olive in tone, like the rest of her Italian lineage, with dark brown; almost the color of mink; eyes that were, once again, a part of her Napoleonic ancestry. Her nose was nondescript, and actually fit her face as if it were customized for it. “It’s a nose”, she said to herself with little afterthought about the feature. She studied her lips, and although she wished for a more “pouty” look, she felt with a little lip gloss she could give them a fuller appearance. “Yeah, that will work”, she encouraged herself again. Her chin and neck gave her no apprehensions, but the “nitty gritty” time had now come for this scrutiny to get serious.

She once again took a step back to get the over- all scoping of what she perceived to be as a curse. She saw before her this same girl that tried to conceal- since the very first day that she wore her very first bra- what most other girls her age would give their everything for: large breasts. She turned to view herself in profile, and confirmed what Maria had just said, and what she already knew to be true, and caught herself stooping over slightly to minimize the appearance of her size 34DD breasts. When she did that, she was reminded of the hunchback of Notre Dame, and immediately corrected her carriage. And once again, her physical attributes lunged forward. With a sigh of resignation, she opened her bedroom door, and went downstairs to do her dinnertime chores.

After supper, Erin bopped back up to her room to call Maria to see if she wanted to catch a movie downtown. It was Friday night, and many of the kids from school would be there. It was a double horror feature, and although neither of the girls especially liked the scary stuff, they both knew it was an almost sure bet the boys they had crushes on would be there.

“I’ll be ready in half an hour and I’ll be outside on my front steps waiting for you!” Maria confirmed. “Maybe my Nick and your Devin will be there, too, Erin! Wear something sexy, and be prepared! I sure am! I’ll be wearing the red sweater that I got for Christmas that I just shrunk down two sizes!” She gushed. “I’m pulling out all the stops tonight, and come to think of it, why don’t you wear that gorgeous black vee- neck sweater you got for Christmas? It will be perfect with your jeans! And you sure will fill it out and do it justice! Come on; PROMISE me you will pull up to my house wearing that sweater, Errie!”

“Maria, I don’t even know if it is clean, but if it is, I promise I will wear it. Cross my heart.” Erin said reluctantly, and then added before hanging up, “But if it isn’t, don’t be mad if I wear a sweatshirt instead.” She already knew the sweater was hanging in her closet on a satin padded hanger; worn maybe twice since the holiday – and only on the occasions when she was in the exclusive company of her relatives at family functions. The truth of the matter was; Erin knew the cut of the sweater would definitely highlight her cleavage- the cleavage she hated to admit she had. But, she also knew they would be in a dark environment- the theater - and she should be hidden in the shadows from any discovering eyes. So, with that all argued out within herself, she changed into the promised attire, and jumped into the family car and drove over to pick up her friend.

On the way down to the movies, Erin brought up the subject of the two boys that Maria had spoken of just thirty minutes before - Nick and Devin.

“Maria, why did you call Devin and Nick ‘ours’? Neither one of them has ever asked us out, nor am I even sure if Devin knows I exist! All I know about him is that he moved here from Pittsburgh three months ago because his father was transferred by his company to the corporate offices in the city. His father’s company had moved the family several times in the last few years, and Devin lost an entire school year because of it. He’s about a year older than us, I guess. And the only other thing I know about him is the sickening fact that Patrick and Shawn O’Malley are his cousins. And the only time we have ever exchanged words was when he bumped into me at our locker area, and knocked all my books out of my hands.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “At least he was polite enough to ask me if I was all right, and as he picked up the books, he DID apologize. Over and over again; as a matter of fact. I kept telling him his first three ‘I’m sorry’s’ were more than sufficient, but he looked at me with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, and said he didn’t apologize nearly enough.” Erin’s recount of the incident had left her voice trailing off to almost a dreamy whisper.

The near silence was suddenly interrupted with Maria’s sharp retort. “Are you deaf, Errie? Did you not hear yourself just now? Of COURSE he knows you exist! Of COURSE he is interested in you! YOU are the one that shies away from HIM! And I think I know why you don’t make the first move to show that you’re interested in him, too.” Maria kept Erin dangling in suspense for a few additional seconds to make her conclusions more emphatic. “The reason is that you believe he is just like his cousins, Shawn and Patrick; the gross maggots that brag - true, or most likely not true- that they have made every girl on the cheerleading squad. And if he knew you liked him, and you started dating him, you are afraid he would start that kind of rumor about you, too” And, with one long, deep breath, Maria ran her mouth off like a waterfall with the truest summation of all: “And you’re afraid he would share the secret with those two creeps just how big your breasts really are.”

Erin remained silent as she drove the last half mile to the theater. It wasn’t until she put the car into park and shut off the ignition that she turned toward her closest friend and quietly said, “Yes, you’re right. You’re right about it all. I am interested in Devin. I like him a lot. And I AM afraid to make the first move to show him I’m interested, because I am MORE afraid that that piggish behavior runs in the family, and he may be just like his cousins.” She then turned to look at her friend, and quietly said, “I couldn’t handle that disappointment, Maria.”

Maria saw her friend’s eyes had filled up with tears, and she reached over to give her a consoling “there, there” hug. And without another word spoken, they got out of the car and headed to the box office to get their tickets for the show.

Once inside, the girls stopped for cherry cokes and a bag of popcorn to share, and headed for the doors leading into the movie. The first of the double feature had already begun, and as their eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting, they looked around to see if they could make out any familiar faces in the mass. Other than the sporadic couples that were “a thing” in their school and the few cliques that hung out together all the time, the girls recognized no others in the orchestra seats. Then, they peered into the darkness of the upper balcony area. Maria spotted the boys first, and registered her delight by leaning into Erin’s ear and whispering, “I think we’re REALLY going to enjoy the movies tonight, after all!”

When she nudged Erin to follow her up to the mezzanine seating, Erin, too, then noticed the group of boys sitting in the very uppermost row. As the two girls chose seats a few rows below them, Erin took note of who comprised the all male group. There were six of them occupying the top row seats: Nick, {Maria’s heartthrob}, Joe, {Nick’s younger brother}, Donny, {one of the school’s wrestlers}, Patrick, Shawn, and...Devin. Her heart somersaulted when her eyes fell upon him; greatly due to his returning her gaze with a nod, a genuinely warm smile and a wink.

The euphoria dissolved but a moment later when Patrick began the heckling with “Hey, Erin! I’d have you sit on my lap, but I wouldn’t be able to see the movie with those mountains getting in the way”, as he pointed to her chest, and both Shawn and Donny chimed in with snorts and howls in the background.

Under her breath, the words; ”Oh, no” escaped Erin’s lips, as the girls settled down in their seats; attempting to ignore the ongoing snickering from three of the back row occupants. Although Maria had taken her coat off before she sat down, Erin sat first; wriggling out of her coat, and then shrunk down into the seat to be as invisible as possible; praying to herself that the O’Malley brothers and Donny would just forget she was there, and simply watch the movie.

Nick was the first one to start throwing popcorn to get the girls’ attention; specifically Maria’s. It was a playful gesture at first; and since there were no other people sitting in the rows below the boys, their view of the girls – and their aim - was unobstructed.

Maria caught the first kernel in her hair, and both girls turned to see who the culprit had been. When Nick waved at Maria and grinned, Erin relaxed thinking the popcorn war was just between the two. But the O’Malley boys had other ideas.

The exchange of popcorn hurled in the balcony continued; as Maria turned to face the screen, and tossed a piece above and behind her head. Erin glanced back only once to realize that Devin and Nick’s younger brother, Joe, were not involved in this skirmish; but merely trying to watch the movie, and with an inward sigh of relief; she turned back to watch the movie herself.

Before they knew it, a flurry of popcorn pieces besieged the two girls; as Donny, Nick, Shawn and Patrick bombarded them in synchronized fashion, with several of the buttered pieces landing dead center of Erin’s cleavage, and falling neatly – and deeply- into her bra. As she tried to discreetly reach inside her sweater to pick out the greasy mess, she heard an all too familiar, dreaded voice yell out," BOOBS away!!! I mean, BOMBS away!!!"

The lower seated moviegoers, upon hearing the disruption, turned to see what the noise was all about. They were now all staring at four boys laughing hysterically – and one very mortified girl.

Erin turned in her seat; not so much as to see her assailant {she already had an inkling as to which of them it was};but to avoid the eyes of all the patrons now gawking at her.It was then that she saw Devin had hopped the vacant seats in the row in front of him, and had turned to face Shawn. Grabbing his cousin’s arm, he was telling him in a not- so- low voice to go down and apologize for his behavior, and then return to his seat and to not make another sound after that-or another move- until the show was over; that he had caused enough ruckus for one night.

The commotion brought the ushers running up the aisle steps, and as the boys were corralled and led down to be escorted out of the building, Devin turned to Erin and mouthed, “I’m sorry” to her once again. The words spoken- or nearly spoken - seemed to be becoming a habit.

Monday brought the news of the movie incident to the school; entirely propagated by Shawn O’Malley himself. Erin felt like someone on trial; constantly professing her innocence the entire school day. She thought it was the worse day of her life, and couldn’t wait until the day ended, so she could go home and hide in her room. The only saving grace was that the tails that weren’t wagging over Shawn’s exaggerated accounts of Friday night, were the ones wagging over the upcoming St. Patrick’s Day dance that was to be held in the gym on that next Friday; the actual holiday – and Erin’s eighteenth birthday.

As the last bell of the day finally rung and Erin hurried to her locker to grab her coat and escape any additional comments or questions, she found Devin leaning against her locker; fidgeting; studying his shoes and looking unsettled.