这次我拿起了一本Crazy Salad, Some Things About Women，作者是Nora Ephron。 首先这个标题就不是那么吸引人。精装书的防尘书皮没有了，所以外表上看起来也很平平。 我会毫不犹豫地把这本书丢给图书馆。
谈乳房对确立女性身份的重要：I wanted desperately not to be that way, not to be a mixture of both things,
but instead just one, a girl, a definite indisputable girl. As soft and as pink as a nursery. And nothing
would do that for me, I felt, but breasts.
满心希望自己会发育起来，结果却不是那么一回事： I would sit in the bathtub and look down at my breasts and know that any day now, any second now, they would start growing like everyone else's. They didn't。
It is September, just before school begins. I am eleven years old, about to enter the seventh grade, and Diana and I have not seen each other all summer. I have been to camp and she has been somewhere like Banff with her parents. We are meeting, as we often do, on the street midway between our two houses, and We will walk back to Diana's and eat junk and talk about what has happened to each of us that summer. I am walking down Walden Drive in my jeans and my father's shirt hanging out and my old red loafers with the socks falling into them and coming toward me is... I take a deep breath.., a young woman. Diana. Her hair is curled and she has a waist and hips and a bust and she is wearing a straight skirt, an article of clothing I have been repeatedly told I will be unable to wear until I have the hips to hold it up. My jaw drops, and suddenly I am crying, crying hysterically, can't catch my breath sobbing. My best friend has betrayed me. She has gone ahead without me and done it. She has shaped up.
I started with a 28 AA bra. I don't think they made them any smaller in those days, although I gather that now you can buy bras for five-year-olds that don't have any cups whatsoever in them; trainer bras they are called. My first brassiere came from Robinson's Department Store in Beverly Hills. I went there alone, shaking, positive they would look me over and smile and tell me to come back next year. An actual fitter took me into the dressing room and stood over me while I took off my blouse and tried the first one on. The little puffs stood out on my chest. "Lean over," said the fitter. (To this day, I am not sure what fitters in bra departments do except to tell you to lean over.) I leaned over, with the fleeting hope that my breasts would miraculously fall out of my body and into the puffs. Nothing.
为了表示自己是个女人，只好戴加垫胸罩。这里的描写也很好笑：Ultimately, I resigned myself to a bad toss and began to wear padded bras. I think about them now, think about all those years in high school that I went around in them, my three padded bras, every single one of them with different-sized breasts. Each time I changed bras I changed sizes: one week nice perky but
not too obtrusive breasts, the next medium-sized slightly pointy ones, the next week knockers, true
knockers; all the time, whatever size I was, carrying around this rubberized appendage on my chest that
occasionally crashed into a wall and was poked inward and had to be poked outward-I think about all
that and wonder how anyone kept a straight face through it. My parents, who normally had no restraints
about needling me-why did they say nothing as they watched my chest go up and down?