Boob Envy: Flat-Chested Girls Are The Enemy

Boob Envy

I’ve never really trusted girls with small tits. There’s just something about their boyish figures and ability to go out in public without a bra that’s a little unnerving to me. Mostly, though, their reaction to boobs is just bizarre. Because they don’t have them, they’re just like guys, fascinated by this symbol of womanhood, and resentful of their mothers for not bestowing it upon them. I get it, kind of. I figured out a new way to play with my own boobs last night, so you can count on this fact: that’s how I’ll be spending the majority of my time for the remainder of the week. It would be weird to be a woman and not have one of the things, that outwardly, defines you as a woman. Like any type of jealousy, boob envy results in some pretty weird interactions that can generally go one of two ways: slightly obsessive, or slightly judgmental.

Nothing is more awkward than a guy constantly talking to you about your boobs, except a girl constantly talking to you about your boobs. Lots of girls who suffer from boob envy can only express their jealousy in a way they believe will be perceived as “nice,” and become weirdly obsessed with your chest. It doesn’t matter the occasion, the outfit, or the company, but really flat-chested girls tend to draw attention to the fact that there is a very big difference between the two of you. You’re lying at home wearing a t-shirt? That makes your boobs look big. You’re getting ready, and have the misfortune of being in a bra in front of her? Give some to meeee. You walk into a room wearing a sweetheart neck for a fancy dinner? OMG YOUR BOOBS.Umm, omg your horse face! See? It doesn’t feel so nice. I don’t know why she thinks it’s ok, or why she thinks it will mask her own insecurities, but she has no qualms about making your boobs a topic of conversation in a room full of strangers, or God forbid, in front of guys.

A lot of times, her fascination will cause her to make a habit of grabbing or poking you for no apparent reason, as if she has the rights to your body. Perhaps it’s curiosity, but if I wanted to be felt up by a girl, I would have played softball in high school, or joined the rugby team. She doesn’t deny her jealousy, and will often expressly state it, but shit just gets weird, especially if you don’t know her that well.

Worse than the weirdly obsessive, possibly latent homosexual, however, is the girl who passive aggressively tries to make you feel like a slut. She enjoys trying to get you to second guess your outfit choices, or implying that you “can’t pull it off,” because “your boobs are too big.” Yeah, okay. Look, no one’s trying to look like a skank on a nightly basis. Well, some people are, but most people just reserve that for themed events, but there’s a distinct bare-boob continuum, with “turtle neck” on one end, and “nipple exposure” on the other. I’d say as long as you’re not in danger of a wardrobe malfunction, you’re in the safe zone. So excuse me for not going for the nun-chic look, but I’m not interested in being told my “boobs are out of control,” or listening to you spew out some passive aggressive nuance like “Well, not everyone is as comfortable showing off their bodies as you are.” First of all, I know you’re not referencing yourself, because I have literally seen you walk out of the house in yoga shorts and a crop top, and more importantly, I’m not “showing off” anything, this is just what I look like in a tank top. You can try to tell me I look like a slut because I’m filling out a sports bra around the house, but you know what makes you look like a slut? The fact that you’re kind of a slut.

It’s a divide among women as old as time. Perhaps if I were on the losing side of it, I’d see things differently, but for now, I’m going to continue to see flat-chested girls as the evil creatures they are, and smile at them bitchily, because we both just saw their boyfriends pretend not to check me out.


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Veronica Ruckh

Veronica (@VeronicaRuckh) is the Director of Total Sorority Move for Grandex, Inc. After having spent her undergraduate years drinking $4 double LITs on a patio and drunk texting away potential suitors, she managed to graduate with an impressive GPA and an unimpressive engagement ring -- so unimpressive, in fact, some might say it's not there at all. Veronica has since been fulfilling her duties as "America's big," a title she gave to herself with the help of her giant ego. She has recently switched from vodka to wine on weekdays. Email her at

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