My older brother is getting married to a girl I legitimately like. I’m happy for them. Really, I am. Keep that in mind as I make the following statement: Their wedding and all the surrounding events make me want to hurl. It’s not so much the constant “So what about you? Is there a boyfriend?” questioning I’ve come to expect from family, our friends and people I’ve not seen since I was maybe two feet tall. It’s the dresses. Cocktail dresses for the busty and hippy are a difficult thing to come by. Usually, it’s a shapeless mess of a tent dress or a slutty problem of a form-fitting one.

You, however, can learn from my years of double-D drama. Use these tips to find a happy medium that you’re not quite literally busting out of.

Boobs and babies don’t mix ... their boobs, that is. I’ve seen enough pasties for kids and stripper poles for toddlers to get stabby about anything that sexualizes an impressionable kiddo. So I’m not too keen on the breast cancer awareness tees for little girls that say “Find A Cure! Before I Grow Boobies.” Clever T-shirt, yes. But as the aunt of three pre-school aged girls, I feel weird about anything that could draw a creepy person’s attention to their non-existent “boobies.” (FWIW, I’d balk if my nephew had a tee shirt that said “Testicular Cancer: Find A Cure Before My Balls Drop!” too.)  A pink ribbon or something would be just fine to raise awareness, thanks. What do you think: Are these T-shirts kinda icky or are they cute? [Zazzle.com]

As those of us proud owners know, sometimes the boob jiggle factor can be really annoying during strenuous activities. Well, a New Zealand sports bra company, Shock Absorber, is combating jiggle one pair at a time. On their website, they have a very strange bounce-o-meter feature where you type in your cup size, select your activity level, and watch those girls shake. The big selling point? It shows you the jiggle factor of the girls in three states—-naked jiggle, with regular bra, and with a Shock Absorber sports bra. Sold! [Buzzfeed]

A few weeks ago I turned to my guy and asked, “When you have to pee, can you feel it in your penis?” He raised his eyebrows at me and said, “No, Jess, I feel it in my bladder, like every other human being.” Well, excuse me for not knowing much about male anatomy. Am I right, ladies? Guy’s bodies are a little confusing sometimes—and we can sure as hell think of some things men don’t know about women’s bodies:

This past weekend I was telling a friend that I was headed to J.Crew this week to try to on wedding dresses. I know without trying one gown on, with a dress that emotionally loaded, I’ll never find something that makes me go OMFG-this-is-the-ONE. I’m too picky, and even though I’ve been known to spend a ridiculous $500-plus on a cocktail dress, there’s something about dropping thousands on a dress I’ll surely only wear once that makes me cringe. My friend replied, “Oh, I love their dresses but have you seen my boobs? J.Crew dresses just aren’t made for people with bigger chests, so I could never wear their bridal gowns.” And after a split second of thought, I mentally agreed, Yeah, she’s 100 percent dead-on with that.

I spend half of my days feeling kind of like a hooker. There are no patent leather platforms with clear plastic bases in my closet and I’d sooner die than wear a half shirt or hot shorts. My damn chest, however, makes appropriateness rather difficult at times.

You see, my waist is a size 2 or 4, my hips are a size 4, and my chest is a 34DD. Finding a dress (or blouse, or fitted, non-stretch top of any kind) has become borderline impossible. But years of clothing obsession and severe boob-related setbacks when it comes to putting together outfits have left me with what some might call an obsessive and excessive knowledge of how to deal with super large lady lumps. Some rules, after the jump…

I think we can all agree that men like explosions. I think we also can all agree that men like boobs. So, some genius did the math and fused these two things together into this website ExplosionsAndBoobs.com. When you go to the site, a white screen appears along with a picture of an explosion and a pair of (classily covered) boobs. When you reload the page, you get another set. It’s so simple, so stupid, and men love it. This website proves yet again that trying to make sense of men is such a waste of time.

A-cups, rejoice! Pop a piece of Bust Up Gum, which claims to increase bust size, and get the boobs of your dreams! And pigs can fly and Lindsay Lohan is going to get her act together. Sorry, this product sounds like the sort of thing only encountered on the Hogwarts Express. In the minor defense of the makers of Bust Up Gum, the creators at least went through the pretense of making a brilliant scientific discovery. They included fancy schmancy ingredients and all: Maltitol, Lactitol, Hydrogenated Glucose Syrup, and Pueraria. So, I guess this won’t work for you if you are into organic or that natural food business, but whatevs, you can’t have everything. Oh, but a a few notes of caution. The label recommends popping at least six tablets per day and also advises that you should not consume during pregnancy, breastfeeding, menstruation, or if you have been diagnosed with medical conditions of the ovaries, uterus, or breast.  Oh, also, consuming in large amounts may cause loose bowels. That might be a problem for some.

Confession: each time I go to the gyno and she shows me how to do a breast self-exam, I stupidly smile and nod my head and she talks and prods my boob, knowing I have no clue what she’s really feeling. I then go home, fondle my own breasts and end up in frustration because (surprise!) they’re lumpy all over! It makes me feel like a bad woman who is not “in touch with her body” to admit that I don’t know what to think of those “normal” lumps. My doctor even once discovered what turned out to be a benign lump, and even then it didn’t feel distinctive. To help solve these problem, there’s now Breastlight, a wand that essentially lets you see what’s going on inside your chest. Take the device into a dark room, apply the lubricant to your breast, and hold Breastlight under your boob to light it up in red hue, highlighting veins and any other abnormalities. It’s not meant to replace mammograms, but at least it will help morons like myself know when something isn’t right. [Uk.breastlight.com]

Throughout the ages women have gone to great pains to get showstopping and eye-dropping cleavage. The corset was rough, stuffed-toilet paper bras were prone to discovery and the push-up bra is just a bit too obvious. According to the peeps from My Beautiful Breasts, however, your cleavage woes are over. This kit ain’t just your average bra-filling and lifting, ladies. We are talking about painting on your boobies, or lack thereof.

We’ve scene this trick before: use makeup to create contours on our bust line the same way we use bronzer to fake sharper cheekbones or those weird airbrushing techniques that create faux six-pack abs. Except, this ain’t just a wish of bronzer we are talking about. Eye shadow and blush come off pretty easy, but the bust stain can stay on for up to five days!  And, maybe I am just bitter because I can’t draw a stick figure, but painting-on your boobies sounds pretty complicated and complex. Chances are I would mess it up and have some pretty busted looking buhbies for a week.

I think I’ll just stick to toilet paper, thank you very much. [$69, My Beautiful Breasts Kit, ItCosmetics.com]

Drinking. Depression. Widowhood. Small boobs. Yes, there are support groups for all kinds of things…

Usually when you talks about supporting your AAs, you mean the feats of architectural wonder accomplished by the Victoria’s Secret Miracle Bra. But on the message boards for Bust magazine, there is actually a Small Breast Support Group.

Ladies, hold on to your boobs. There’s yet another product that promises to give us big breasts—even if we don’t want ‘em.  The new Smart Memory Bra is made of heat-sensitive foam that inflates and deflates based on body temperature. What this means: When you (and your chest) get hot and bothered, the bra will inflate to push the girls up and out. Slovenia-based Lisca Lingerie, the company that’s making the boob popper, claims the Smart Bra “will always provide the perfect fit.” Really, though, it has only one advantage over a regular bra: Ot will give you huge boobs when someone’s about to jump your bones. But what if you happen to get steamed up from the heat in church or in front of your boyfriend’s parents? I mean, do you really want a lady boner? [UK Sun]

My birth control is ruining my figure. It’s not so much the extra pounds the Pill has added to my frame—seven pounds, if we’re counting—it’s the extra cleavage that I can’t stand. I know most women would kill for overflowing bra cups. If you’d talked to me twenty years ago, when I was stuffing my bra with gym socks and then admiring my womanly profile in the mirror, I’d have balked at the idea big boobs would be anything other than a gift from God. But that was before my breasts inexplicably grew three cup sizes during my sophomore year of high school, and I became a school-wide, overnight sensation the day I demonstrated my jump-roping skills in gym class. Could there have been anyone more clueless and insensitive to the woes of teenage girlhood than a middle-aged, male gym teacher?

While my Dolly Parton-esque double D’s provide my sexy-time friends with far, far more than a handful, my breasts prevent me from normal activities. Like crossing my heart to say the Pledge of Allegiance. Like squeezing between tables at restaurants without whacking someone in the face. Like wearing button-up shirts and running at the same time. Still, are my bodacious ta-ta’s any more intrusive than, say, the pair men have—that is: balls? I mean, how do they run with those things dangling between their legs? There’s just no denying it. Ladies and gents have bulky body baggage. Thankfully, some gender-bending reporters over at Time Out New York decided to put their work-out routine to the boobs versus balls test. Their results? Frank and beans are easier to exercise with than a couple of milk jugs. But here at the Frisky, let’s talk about when appendages really matter: the sex act. Which cushion do you think is worse for the pushin’? [Boinkology]

Mario Philippona is man of many skills (architect, sculptor, designer, cabinet maker, and furniture maker), and he also loves the female form—so much so that he created a wine cabinet called the Boobycase. “A woman with fantastic breasts, seen in the sauna, inspired me to make this work,” the artist writes on his website. Luckily, with a price tag of more than $15,000, the Boobycase won’t be making too many appearances, that is until Mario creates one out of plastic. [SexyFurniture.nl and InventorSpot via Plime.com]

The weather is heating up and men are starting to show some serious skin—especially their firm fun-bags. Thanks to body-hugging cotton T’s and tanks, there’s less separating you from a man and his chest. While most guys have to try to avoid staring at boobs, when it comes to moobs, girls can easily get more than an eyeful and, in some cases, even a handful.  From David Beckham’s pecks to Steven Tyler’s mosquito bites to Ryan Phillipe’s toned ta-ta’s, men are rackin’ it up and showin’ it off. [Note: Simon Cowell is an example of this trend gone wrong.]

Crafting is the hobby du jour for ladies—myself and my homemade superhero cape included.  While I think my cool cape gives me the appearance that I can save lives, Shannon Gerard’s “Boobs and Dinks” actually do just that.  Every three minutes a woman in the U.S. is diagnosed with breast cancer, which means we have to take matters into our own hands, literally. Ms. Gerard’s line of crocheted private parts are stitched with lumps inside them and come with a book intended to teach people how to give themselves early detection self-examinations. Plus, they’ll make you fondle yourself for more than one good cause! Part of the proceeds go to Cottage Dreams, a cancer recovery center. [If your boss would consider a crocheted penis NSFW, wait till ya get home to peruse this link.] [Etsy: Boobs & Dinks]