A storm in an AA cup

It's war! To be specific it's "Bra Wars". I'm waging a one woman crusade against the sizeist shops that don't stock bras made for my petite frame. After travelling from A to B in cup sizes while pregnant, then from B to C while nursing my son, I've hurtled at breakneck speed after weaning back past my original size to an AA-cup. What a white knuckle ride that's been, watching my assets depreciate. After a brief flirtation with bountiful curves, I'm not complaining, being small up top is "me". My physique is fairly unscathed by childbirth and my boobs, while small, haven't headed South. It's a blessing and I'm counting it. No, I haven't got a beef with Mother Nature, just the lingerie departments that stock only a smattering of bras in my new size -- and hurtfully describe them as "training" bras. At 33, I'm past wearing L plates -- I've come to terms with womanhood and love feeling sexy. But now I find myself banned from wearing seductive, fashionable lingerie. Bra Wars have begun and my search for undies that fit continues -- and, if the grim assortment of teenage bras on offer on the high street is anything to go by, it looks like it will take me to a galaxy far, far away...