My friends often make fun of me (lovingly, I think…) for my discomfort in showing cleavage. I try to wear clothes that complement my body, but I’m kind of a freak about things being too low-cut, especially at work.
So today I texted a selfie to my mammary managers:
Me: “This is me, uncomfortable with, yet accepting, my office cleavage.”
Friend: “Well done! I’m proud of your acceptance. Consider your cleavage a public service, like an outdoor mural.”
My breasts are basically Banksy.