Within the whirlwind that was the first two weeks of my sister being diagnosed she was informed about being tested for the gene mutations BRCA one and two. As my mum had also died reasonably young from the disease and we had reason to believe it was on both her mother and fathers side of the family it seemed very possible that the gene resided in our family.
I was brought up by a woman who told me that all you needed was a bit of mascara. I later came to realise that anyone who grows up with a hot/low maintenance mother is ill-equipped for life as a female. Especially if, intermittently, throughout my non-airbrushed existence, your skin is having a post-punk rock revolution all of its own...
She's standing there, young, beautiful... just ask her. There's nothing wrong in asking, this is the place people come for such things. So, why are you nervous? You take a deep breath, she looks up and smiles, which should make it easier, but you croak a little as you say "I was just wondering if you...erm...do ... bra measuring?".
As with just about every feminist campaign in history, it didn't take long before we found a backlash. Ours came from fellow students as well as university bodies, calling a boycott of The Sun illiberal, painting us an authoritarian, conservative voice out to censor people's freedoms at every corner. 'But what about the free press?' came the replies.