23 August 2006
They already share clothes, make-up and shoes. But these sisters also decided to experience going under the knife together - and had matching boob jobs... Jackie Bray, Louise Robinson and the Cockings sisters, Emma and Alex all had breast augmentations with The Harley Medical Group.
The Daily Mail The Daily Mail - 'We're Real Bosom Buddies'
The sisters who had matching boob jobs
They already share clothes, makeup and shoes. But these sisters all decided to experience going under the knife together - and had matching boob jobs. LOUISE ROBINSON, 37, is a housewife. She lives in Mansfield, Notts, with her husband, Simon, 39, a businessman, and their daughters Teagan, 14, and Tia, four. Louise went from a 36B to a 36DD. Jacqui was the first to hear about my plans to have breast implants and the first - after my husband, Simon - to see the results. When she announced she was copying me, I was thrilled. It's welded us even closer together. Now we share everything - including a bigger cup size. Some sisters are competitive, but I'm as delighted by Jacqui's new figure as by my own. I love seeing her self confidence rocket. There's 18 months between us. But, although Jacqui's my big sister, it's typical of our relationship that I had my operation first. As children, Jacqui was the first to try every new fashion trend from poodle-style perms to Eighties ra ra skirts. When I wanted a Bon Jovi poster on our bedroom wall, she got there first. She was boy mad while I was still a tomboy. But when it came to anything unpleasant - like taking medicine - she sweet talked me into going first. So I knew Jacqui would see how I got on before taking the plunge herself. We've both longed for bigger boobs since we were teenagers, embarrassed by B cups. Jacqui comforted me when schoolchildren mocked me for having 'two aspirins on an ironing board'. Boys said the same to her. When we started going to discos, we stuffed each other's bras with tissue paper. Our relationship was cemented when I was 13 and our mother, Brenda, died of lung cancer. It drew us together. We've been inseparable ever since. So it was only natural I'd share my excitement with Jacqui when I decided on a boob job. Although we'd day dreamed about an operation for years, neither of us could pluck up the courage to do it. But on holiday in Cyprus last October, Simon proposed. We've been together 20 years. Looking at my flat chest, I felt so deflated. How could I wear the fairytale dress of my dreams? I had �4,000 saved for a rainy day. I couldn't think of a better cause. Researching on the internet, I found details for The Harley Medical Group. Their site was very professional. Before my courage ran out, I booked an appointment. When I telephoned Jacqui, she was almost speechless: 'I never thought you'd do it.' But her next words didn't surprise me. 'I want new breasts, too,' she announced. We'd discussed it often enough. Although Simon reassured me I was lovely as I was, he was fully supportive. Two weeks later, he drove me to Birmingham for a consultation. I decided to go for a 36DD - perfect for my frame - with silicone implants. I'm 5ft 6in and a size 12. I booked the operation for January 11 - six weeks before our wedding in Montego Bay, Jamaica. Jacqui offered to accompany me. I'm so protective of her, I wanted to spare her seeing me in any discomfort. A car picked me up and drove me to The Harley Medical Group in London. I was almost sick with nerves, but I couldn't back out now. Thinking of Jacqui kept me going. Groggily waking up 40 minutes after the operation, I looked down at my chest and saw a mound that looked the size of Mount Everest. I was too excited to feel any pain. Grabbing my phone, I sent Jacqui a text. 'All done. Looking swell.' The next morning, armed with painkillers, I was driven home. My very first visitor was Jacqui. I had been told not to remove my bra for a week, to give my new chest support, but I couldn't resist letting her have a quick peek. 'They're brilliant,' she said with a broad smile. Jacqui came with me to buy my wedding dress. It was the next best thing to having Mum there. I chose a floor-length ivory dress with a netted skirt and a basque, which made a feature of my new 36DD breasts. As I twirled in front of the mirror, we cried. I feel so confident and sexy now. Clothes hang better. My old bras were always boring black or white. Now I have drawers full of lacy undies in gorgeous colours. My nipples were very sensitive for the first few weeks, but I'd been warned of this. However, everything has returned to normal. Jacqui and I were shopping a few weeks ago. We bumped into a girlfriend we'd not seen for years. She took a look at my chest, then at Jacqui's. 'Is it catching?' she asked and left us roaring with laughter. JACQUI BRAY, 38, runs a plumbing business with husband Neil, 35. They live in Mansfield, Notts, with son, Nathan, 17. Jacqui went from a 34B to a 34D. I'm a strawberry blonde and Louise is brunette. We have very different personalities. She's bubbly and outgoing. I'm shy and a coward. But we couldn't be closer. She'll start a sentence and I'll finish it. We have almost identical tastes. Walking into Louise's house - two minutes' drive from mine - I could be at home. Even our chocolate brown bedroom curtains match. We both love tailored jeans and smart tops from Next and River Island. We often come out in the same outfit - and then draw straws on who's going back indoors to change. Unfortunately, we also shared pretty flat chests when we were young. I was nicknamed Twiggy at school, and the stigma remained with me, even after I met Neil when I was 20. He's always made me feel loved and complimented me on my figure. But I longed to feel sexy. As I got older, the problem intensified. Push-up bras helped, but I hated seeing myself naked or even in a loose bikini. I looked as if I was sporting a pair of empty carrier bags on my chest. Only Louise knew exactly how I felt, because she felt the same. That's why, when Louise announced she was having a breast enhancement, I was thrilled for her and stunned she was brave enough to go through with it. But I realised that if she could do it, so could I. We'd daydreamed long enough, poring over magazines and watching cosmetic surgery programmes on TV. Neil was worried for me but, seeing Louise sail through, I reassured him. Once I'd seen Louise's figure and her newfound confidence, I couldn't wait. I had my operation on January 26 - just two weeks after hers. Although Louise had chosen a DD cup, I opted for a D as I'm slightly smaller than her. Besides, this wasn't a competition. I was terribly nervous - I'm a real worrier, but I was in very little pain afterwards. Louise was the first person I rang from the recovery room and she was my first visitor back home - arriving with a Janet Reger bra in pink lace. She was wonderfully reassuring. I'd been warned to avoid raising my arms above my head for the first week. I forgot and stretched to put dishes away. Wincing in pain, and terrified I'd pulled my stitches, I rang Louise. 'I did the same,' she said. 'Don't worry.' Of course I could have rung the clinic, but having my sister on hand was wonderful - and everything was fine. I'm too mature to flaunt myself in low-cut tops. But I feel wonderful just knowing, whatever I wear, that my breasts are so firm and upright they will stay put. Apart from slight numbness under the boobs, they look and feel totally natural. Louise looked sensational in her wedding dress when she got married. I'm so proud of her for having the confidence to have the operation. Without her lead, I wouldn't have had the guts and it's made the world of difference to me. EMMA COCKINGS, 24, lives in Tyne and Wear with her son Thomas, 18 months. She's a pastoral servives manager at Tyne Metropolitan College. Emma went from a 32B to a 32C. My younger sister Alex and I always loathed our chests. We've tried everything - push-up bras, padded bras, gel bras and even, when we were younger, rolls of wadded tissue paper. It was a standing joke that whichever one of us won the Lottery would treat the other to a boob job. However, by April last year I'd given up dreaming and booked myself a consultation at The Harley Medical Group in Manchester. The operation would cost �4,000. As a single mother working fulltime, every penny counts, but I was so desperate to improve my looks for my own self esteem that I applied for a loan, repaying around �90 a month for five years. Then the impossible happened. Four days after that appointment Emma - our middle sister and the only one of us with a fabulous figure - won �3.2m on the National Lottery. Alex and I walked into my parents' home to find everyone dancing around the room. Sarah threw her arms around me. 'I'm a millionaire. And I'm buying you a boob job,' she announced. She knew Alex was desperate too, so it was agreed we'd go together - having our operations on the very same day. From that moment, our feet never touched the ground. I was five when Alex was born and Sarah was four. I was thrilled to have a little sister to mother. Although I've always felt protective of Alex, she's incredibly feisty. She was talking at nine months. Sarah and I would be playing in the garden when a little voice would pipe up from her pram: 'Come in girls. Mummy says it's teatime.' She was spoilt rotten and has always twisted my dad, a retired policeman, around her little finger. But she's so funny and cheeky, I was never jealous. As little girls, Mum never knew where she'd find us in the morning because we were always swopping beds. I couldn't wait until Alex could join us for girly shopping trips and nights out. My family were there for me when Thomas was born. Sadly my relationship with his father collapsed when I was five months pregnant after six years together. He's a great dad, but the impending birth made us realise we wanted different things from life. Mum and my sisters were at the birth. Mum even cut the cord. The girls are devoted aunts. Sarah's the calming influence, always ready with a comforting cuddle. Alex rolls on the floor, playing monsters. I always hated my 32B chest. I felt unfeminine. But I realised the true difference a voluptuous figure would make only when I was pregnant. My boobs shot up to 32C. I felt terrific. I wanted to stay that shape for ever. But sadly, the second I stopped breast feeding, my wonderful boobs disappeared. I had to act. The surgeon suggested giving me a D cup, but I have a tiny frame - I'm a size 6 and weigh only 71/2 stone. I didn't want to look like Jessica Rabbit, so we compromised on a 32C. I settled on silicone implants, as they give a more natural shape. I was warned my breasts would feel very firm and swollen for several weeks and I would have to wear a sports bra 24 hours a day for three months to provide support. On the day of the operation in July last year, Dad drove us to Manchester while Mum and Sarah babysat Thomas. Looking at ourselves in our matching backless gowns and Norah Batty-style antithrombosis tights, we were almost sick with nerves and laughter. We planned to spin a coin to see who would go first, but the surgeon decided for us. It was Alex. As I'm so small, my implants needed to be placed under my muscle - a more complex 90-minute operation. Kissing Alex goodbye, I got the first pang of nerves. Before there was time to worry, they were taking me into theatre. I remember waking up in our shared room and seeing Alex sitting up in bed eating toast. For a moment I thought we were little girls in our bedroom at home. Then I saw the huge smile on Alex's face. 'Look at these,' she said, whipping up her top. Alex was in more pain than me. Helping her made me forget my own discomfort. I moved back home for a week so Mum could look after us. I recovered very quickly and stopped taking painkillers after three days. Alex and I enjoy telling friends our sister bought us boobs. We did this for ourselves - not for any man. Sarah's thrilled for us. I can't thank her enough, but if I'd won the Lottery, I'd have done the same. Her win couldn't have brought us any closer. ALEX COCKINGS, 19, is a student. She lives in Whitley Bay with her parents, Maria and Ian, both 55. She went from a 34B to a 34DD. As A child, I suffered from puppy fat. By 12, I had a huge chest, around 34C, but when I lost weight, my boobs disappeared. I've felt out of proportion ever since. I'm 5 ft 5in with wide hips. I never went out without my gel bra, but that limited the clothes I could wear because the straps show. Halternecks were out. I felt a fraud. The second I removed my bra, my secret would be discovered. I was scared of dating, as any man who saw me naked would get a real shock. Emma and I are passionate shoppers. We'd trawl the rails getting miserable - looking at all the clothes we couldn't wear. Sharing our problem simply made us more determined. By last spring, we'd vowed to act. As I was only 18, Emma made the appointment and agreed to check if I was eligible. I planned to borrow the money from my parents. But Sarah won the Lottery and our problems were solved. On the day of the operation, we were shaking with excitement. It was like waiting for Christmas. Afterwards, we were desperate to take a peek. We were heavily bandaged, so it was hard to see the full impact. Emma looked at my chest, I looked at hers and we dissolved into laughter. I don't know whether I was happier for myself or for her. Four days later, I was building sandcastles on the beach with Emma's son, Thomas, feeling fantastic. Having the operation together speeded up my recovery. To stop Emma worrying, I made light of any pain.I have always been close to my sisters. Strangers often take the three of us for triplets. I don't remember a single row - even when Emma was 15 and I used to borrow her make-up. I know, at 18, I'm young to have an enhancement and will probably need another operation in ten years. It was pointless being miserable any longer. Sarah and I have just returned from a sunshine holiday in Cyprus. I wore skimpy bikinis for the first time in my life. I love sexy corset tops and even go bra-less - which was impossible before. With her Lottery winnings, Sarah has bought my parents a new house. They moved in last month. She's given me a black Mini Cooper car. But her best gift is my breasts.
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