In Memory of Kay Kim's Blogs

Big Boobs & Jagger Lips ( a story about sisters )

Big Boobs & Jagger Lips ( A story about boobs, lips, fitting in, love, sisters, and undying love )

Kim & Kay. Sisters Forever.

~It’s taken nearly thirty odd years, but I’m sort of, kind of, in fashion.

You see, I wasn’t always this cool and confident and amazing.  In middle school, I developed boobs before any of the other girls in class, and believe me, I wasn’t thrilled about it.  Not a single bit.  I wasn’t like some of those females who looked forward to their chests filling out, or those who couldn’t wait a moment longer to purchase a lacy, Victoria Secret bra. Nope. I was not one of those girls.

In the midst of the super-models and girls who could go braless in gym class, I stood out.  I was seen, or should I say, my boobs were seen. I wore a jean jacket to hide them, bury them in Calvin Klein.  I prayed to Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, wishing they’d disappear.  I wanted to be how I used to be. Boob-less.

My sister used my so-called- attributes to make me suffer. Sisters know the precise buttons to push, the buttons that cause small nuclear expositions.  For example, when we’d argue about clothes or chores or nothing at all,  she’d usually end the arguments with something like, “Well, boys only like you because of your big boobies!”

That hurt. Bad.

But I knew what caused my sister pain, too.  I must admit, she was pretty perfect, with those large doe eyes and flawless bone structure, but every female has her breaking point, and I knew all of hers.  For one thing; she thought her lips were too large for her face.  Hence, I had my ammunition and poison.  I aptly termed her Jagger Lips.

“Hey, Jaaaaaaagger,” I’d tease. I was definitely more of a bitch than her; my venom flooded out smoothly, easily. Not only did I say the words, but I made a blubbering sound with my own lips after each sentence.

Anyway, in seventh grade, I attended a neighborhood party on 8th Street.  How could I ever forget the most embarrassing moment of my life?  I overheard Sam Asshole (not his real name) whispering to the other boys about the size of my boobs, how he was going to grope them during the pinning of the donkey game, how he was just the boy to get away with something like that.

Apparently, the Me, TOO movement was not a REVOLUTION back then.  Sad.

My stomach turned upside down and inside out with humiliation, embarrassment, yuckiness. And I still recall my entire body catching fire. So that’s what harassment felt like, that’s what belittling sounds like. I told my sister about the incident immediately after I got home, and my words fell out like dirty water.

“He said whaaaaaat?  He did whaaaaat? Are you kidding me right now?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t a smile like, yeah, that’s hilarious; it was more a smile of calculation, planning, revenge. I’ve observed that smile several times before.  The familiarity, for once, made me feel secure, happy, protected.

Physically, my sister was strong as hell. I mean, she could take me down with her strength,  muscle, and large man hands, but I brought her to her knees with my razor, sharp tongue, which I utilized with great articulation. She confessed in later years that she searched the dictionary for some of the definitions of my vast vocabulary, but found none.  I shant go into those dictionary-less words in this essay.

At School next day, I noticed the Principal, Ms. Turnbloom, rushing fiercely to the back of the building. To this day, I’ve not witnessed a woman in heels sprinting that quickly. I can still see the blur of her navy blue feet like one of those cartoons in fast motion.

Were we having a fire drill?  Was somebody having a heart attack?  I followed her and half the student body out of the west end of the building, and the first thing I saw was my sister’s long black hair falling over Sam Asshole like an avalanche.  She had him trapped against a basketball pole. “Don’t you ever…You will not talk to her…If I hear this one more time…How daaaaaare you” I’m not sure of everything she said, but he wasn’t uttering a solitary word.

I swear to god, I‘ve not been so exuberated in my entire life. I stood there laughing. I couldn’t stop laughing.  I was laughing so hard, I believe I peed right through my beautiful bell bottom jeans. Ms. Turnbloom brought me into the office along with my sister, because apparently, laughing was just as inappropriate as talking about somebody’s boobs.

I couldn’t look at my sister after that without feeling a sense of pride, a sense of true sisterhood.   I never told her, but I actually fell in love with her that afternoon in 76’.

I’m not sure about other girls, but Sam Asshole never uttered a single word about my boobs after that. Perhaps, like me, he understood what it felt like to lose a piece of his dignity that day.

Recently, after drinking several glasses of Merlot at a hip club downtown, I had an epiphany.  I turned to my sister and shrieked, “Guess what?  We are finally in style; you with your plump, non-surgical lips and me with my large, none-surgical boobs. Is that cool or what?”


Note: (My sister Kay loved this essay. She called and said, “I love when you write about me, Kimmy!”  No love was greater than ours)


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  • Reply
    September 22, 2018 at 10:58 am

    True sisterhood rocks! Thanks for sharing those moments with us!

  • Reply
    Elephants Child
    September 22, 2018 at 12:20 pm

    Heartfelt hugs and oceans of caring.
    A love like this transcends EVERYTHING.
    And I hope that Master Asshole also piddled in his pants. And that his ‘friends’ taunted him for all time about being beaten up by a girl. (I bet they did too.)

    • Reply
      My Inner Chick
      September 23, 2018 at 11:08 am

      Only beaten up w/ words, Sue! I still see Asshole around Duluth! xx

  • Reply
    nan @ lbddiaries
    September 22, 2018 at 12:48 pm

    I love when you tell these sister stories. I LOVE IT. I love getting a glimpse into something I’ve never experienced, that one-ness of, “I’ll insult you but no one else better EVER talk about you” moments. You words paint such awesome pictures that I feel like I just got back from 1976!!!

  • Reply
    September 22, 2018 at 6:29 pm

    I love love love this!

  • Reply
    September 23, 2018 at 7:43 am

    Love this story! I wish I had a sister. 💕🌸

    • Reply
      My Inner Chick
      September 23, 2018 at 11:10 am

      My sister was murdered by her non-husband 8 years ago. No love was Greater. xx

  • Reply
    September 23, 2018 at 12:13 pm

    Love this to the moon and back, Kim! Reminds me of me and my sis. She, too, had boobies way before the other girls while I was flat as a board. Still, when I was around, NOBODY dared mess with her or they’d answer to me! There’s just something so special about that SISTER-BOND, right?!?

  • Reply
    lisa thomson
    September 23, 2018 at 1:02 pm

    This story gave me goosebumps and made me smile. I’m so proud of Kay. What a brave girl! Your love for one another is so precious. Mick Jagger lips and naturally large boobs…LOL. LOVE it! You’re both so beautiful.

  • Reply
    Marie Kléber
    September 24, 2018 at 7:00 am

    I love love love when you share stories about sisterhood Kim.
    This bond is precious.
    Despite all nonsense in life me and my sister we know we will always be there for one another.
    Love from sunny Paris Kim. xoxo

  • Reply
    September 24, 2018 at 12:16 pm

    I love this story! You can pick on your sister, but nobody else can, right?

  • Reply
    September 25, 2018 at 5:53 am

    Beautiful! I can’t begin to imagine how amazing it must be to have a sister – I only have twin elder brothers.
    Have a gloriously happy day dearest Kim. Love and hugs to you from sunny SA.
    🙂 Mandy xoxoxo

  • Reply
    Annette Connelly
    September 25, 2018 at 6:21 am

    That has to be one of the funniest stories you’ve written. It sounds like that jerk received some much needed humbling.

  • Reply
    Marcia @ Menopausal Mother
    September 25, 2018 at 9:00 pm

    Awwww I love this memory!

  • Reply
    Gary Lee Sidley
    September 26, 2018 at 6:59 am

    Clearly, you were exceptionally close. I have just the one sibling – an older brother – and I can identify with your story. Each of us could call the other rotten, but woe betide any third party trying it.

  • Reply
    September 26, 2018 at 2:00 pm

    My sisters are more like mothers to me because of the age difference. Thanks for sharing the entertaining memory!

  • Reply
    September 26, 2018 at 5:44 pm

    This is such a beautiful memory and blood is definitely thicker than water. Sam asshole indeed was no match for your sister 8)

  • Reply
    Sandra Garth
    October 9, 2018 at 3:24 pm

    Sisters should always have each other’s back and the relationship you and Kay had was perfect!

  • Reply
    Christine Carter
    October 12, 2018 at 7:19 am

    WHAT an incredible story, Kim! I love reading more about Kay and your sisterhood that is just so real, so amazingly genuine and this one is proof of that. I am in awe of Kay’s strength and will and fierce devotion to stand up for you, protect you, and take care of you when you needed it most.

    I’m SO glad you shared this. It’s not only an honor to learn more about your relationship, but an incredible message of the power of love and connection and commitment that can grow and thrive with siblings.

  • Reply
    October 15, 2018 at 4:41 am

    This is such a great story Kim. I love when you share candid stories about you and Kay. “I never told her but I actually fell in love with her that afternoon in 76′”
    Love. Love.

  • Reply
    Green Global Trek
    October 17, 2018 at 11:06 pm

    Kim this is SUCH a great essay about sisterhood. I can very much relate to much of it and embarrassed that I too called my younger sister names such as “Little Lotta” who was a character in a cartoon that was rather overweight, which she at that time, was actually not!!

    But at the end of the day we usually know that our sistas have our back!!

    Love the humor throughout but especially the victorious ending.


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