History is full of weird, catchy phrases that somehow lodge themselves in our collective brain. You’ve probably heard it. Or maybe you’ve seen it printed on a vintage-style sweatshirt. The rhythmic, almost hypnotic chant of "we must, we must, we must increase our bust" isn't just a random TikTok sound or a meme from the depths of Reddit. It’s a piece of genuine Americana that stretches back decades. Honestly, it represents a very specific intersection of 1970s literature, adolescent anxiety, and the strange ways we try to control our own bodies.
People are searching for it again. Why? Because nostalgia is a hell of a drug, and Gen Z has a knack for finding the most awkward parts of their parents' childhoods and making them "aesthetic." But if we’re going to talk about why we must we must increase our bust is trending, we have to talk about Judy Blume. Specifically, her 1970 novel Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.
The Margaret Connection: Where It All Started
In the book, Margaret Simon and her friends form a secret club. They’re sixth graders. They’re obsessed with the physical markers of womanhood because, when you're twelve, every millimeter of growth feels like a life-or-death race. They perform this specific exercise where they chant "we must, we must, we must increase our bust" while pumping their arms back and forth.
It was a ritual.
For anyone who grew up reading Blume, that scene was iconic. It captured the total absurdity of puberty. You’re basically a kid trying to summon biology through sheer willpower and a repetitive mantra. It’s funny, sure. But it’s also kinda heartbreaking when you think about the pressure girls have felt for a century to look a certain way before they’ve even finished middle school.
The phrase became a shorthand for that specific brand of female bonding. It wasn't about the actual "bust" as much as it was about the shared experience of waiting for life to start. It’s a rhythmic beat that echoes through sleepovers across the 70s, 80s, and 90s. When the movie adaptation finally dropped in 2023, starring Abby Ryder Fortson and Rachel McAdams, a whole new generation was introduced to the chant. Suddenly, "we must we must increase our bust" was back in the lexicon, stripped of its original context and reborn as a viral snippet.
The Physicality of the Mantra
Is there any actual science behind it? No. Obviously not. Pumping your arms while chanting won't change your breast tissue composition. But that hasn't stopped people from trying variations of "pectoral exercises" for decades.
Back in the day, magazines like Seventeen or YM (rest in peace) would often suggest that strengthening the pectoral muscles underneath the breast tissue could provide a "lift." This is where the exercise Margaret and her friends did actually came from—real-world "beauty tips" from the mid-20th century. The idea was that if you built up the muscle, the rest would follow.
In reality, breast size is mostly down to genetics, body fat percentage, and hormonal fluctuations. You can do a million chest presses, and while your posture might improve and your chest might look firmer, you aren't going to change your cup size through arm movements.
Yet, the chant persists. It’s a psychological anchor.
Why the phrase works as a meme
- The Rhythm: It has a natural dactylic or anapestic feel that makes it easy to repeat.
- The Irony: Modern audiences use it ironically to mock outdated beauty standards.
- The Shared Memory: It’s a "if you know, you know" moment for millions of women.
The phrase has shifted from a genuine wish to a piece of campy folklore. We don't say it because we think it works; we say it because it reminds us of a time when we thought it might.
The Cultural Weight of the "Perfect" Figure
Let's get real for a second. The reason we must we must increase our bust resonated so deeply is because of the intense scrutiny placed on women's bodies. In the 1970s, the "waif" look was giving way to more athletic but still very specific curves. By the 90s, we were in the era of the "Wonderbra."
The chant is a manifestation of "body dissatisfaction," a term psychologists use to describe the gap between how we look and how we want to look. Studies from the American Psychological Association have shown that this dissatisfaction starts incredibly early—often around age 9 or 10. That is exactly when Margaret Simon was doing her exercises.
It’s a cycle. A new "ideal" body type appears in media. We feel we must change to fit it. We find rituals—mantras, exercises, diets—to bridge the gap. Then the "ideal" changes again.
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Today, we see this in the "BBL era" or the "Ozempic face" trends. The specific goal changes, but the underlying feeling—the we must, we must—remains the same. It’s an endless treadmill of self-improvement that usually leads nowhere but back to the mirror.
The Viral Rebirth on Social Media
TikTok loves a "core." We’ve had Cottagecore, Barbiecore, and now, there's a sort of "Vintage Girlhood" aesthetic. This is where the Margaret chant lives now. You’ll see creators using the audio to show off their vintage finds or to talk about their "late bloomer" experiences.
It’s interesting because the tone has changed. In the book, it was earnest. On TikTok, it’s often self-deprecating. It’s a way of saying, "Yeah, I was that weird kid who wanted to grow up too fast."
There is a weird comfort in the repetition. If you’ve ever scrolled through a comment section on a video featuring the chant, you’ll see thousands of women chiming in with their own stories of doing the exact same exercise in their bedrooms in 1984 or 1992 or 2005. It’s a cross-generational bridge.
However, we should acknowledge the downsides. Even when used jokingly, the phrase reinforces the idea that there is a "correct" way to develop. For young girls seeing these videos today without the context of Judy Blume's nuanced storytelling, it can feel like just another demand. Another "must" in a world already full of them.
Moving Beyond the Chant
If we want to actually address the sentiment behind we must we must increase our bust, we have to look at body neutrality. Not necessarily body positivity—which can sometimes feel like another chore where you're forced to love every inch of yourself—but neutrality.
Neutrality is the "it is what it is" approach. My body is a vessel. It gets me from point A to point B. It doesn't need to be chanted at to be valid.
But honestly? Most people aren't looking for a psychological breakthrough when they search for this phrase. They’re looking for the book. They’re looking for the movie. Or they’re looking for a way to connect with a younger version of themselves who just wanted to fit in.
Actionable Steps for Navigating Body Pressure
If you find yourself caught up in the nostalgia or the pressure that this phrase represents, here’s how to handle it without losing your mind.
Recognize the Marketing
Understand that most "body goals" are sold to you. Whether it’s 1970s arm pumps or 2026’s latest "tweakment," someone is profiting from your feeling of inadequacy. When you hear the chant, remind yourself it was written to highlight how silly these pressures are, not to encourage them.
Read the Source Material
If you’ve only seen the memes, go back and read Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. Judy Blume wasn't trying to tell girls they needed to change; she was telling them they weren't alone in feeling weird about their bodies. The book is actually very radical in its honesty about religion, puberty, and friendship.
Check Your Social Feed
If your Discover feed or "For You" page is filled with content that makes you feel like you "must" change your physical appearance, use the "not interested" button. Algorithms are machines; feed them better data. Follow accounts that focus on what bodies do rather than what they look like—think athletes, hikers, or artists.
Talk to the Older Women in Your Life
Ask your mom or your aunt if they remember the chant. You’ll probably find that they have hilarious (and slightly cringey) stories about the things they did to try and fit the beauty standards of their era. Realizing that every generation has its own version of "increasing the bust" makes the whole thing feel much less heavy.
Ultimately, the phrase is a relic. It’s a rhythmic reminder of the awkwardness of being human. We don't actually "must" do anything to our bodies to be worthy of taking up space. But if saying the chant makes you laugh and feel a little more connected to the millions of other people who felt just as awkward as you do, then go ahead and say it. Just don't expect it to change your bra size.
The real "increase" we need isn't in our bust—it's in our collective ability to let girls, and ourselves, just exist without a checklist of physical requirements. Stick to the nostalgia, ditch the pressure, and maybe just enjoy the movie for the masterpiece of girlhood that it is.