This isn't another story about the current state of a mother's breasts, the kind that—if you've never had kids—makes you decide right there and then that you will not be nursing any future children. Solely because you can't imagine ever describing your own breasts as "saggy," "lifeless," or "uneven." This is, however, a story of ownership. From one relationship stage to the next, these breasts seem have fallen under someone's else's domain—except my own.
As a kid, my ballet teacher nicknamed me Olive Oil because I was tall and skinny with long dark hair like the cartoon. By 14, puberty had left me squeezing into 32DD bras. My instant curves disgusted me. "You are not fat; you’re Zaftik," my mother would say in Yiddish, as she inspected my 5'7" and 120-lb. frame. She meant I carried my weight well. Large busts were so common among Jewish women they'd created a word in the Old Country for exactly what I'd inherited.
If you're planning to take a beach vacation in the next couple of weeks, in addition to watching out for jellyfish, be on the lookout for plastic breasts! According to The Australian, Men's magazine Ralph was shipping $200,000 of fake mammaries from Beijing to its headquarters down under, but when the container arrived in Sydney it was empty! Where are the 130,000 pairs of plastic pectoral pillows? No one knows.
We usually don't associate the brrrr!-ful winter months with boobs hanging out of our clothes (that would be summertime!) but the Daily Mail points out a tricky sartorial trend: lots of cleavage with the holiday party dresses. Especially in such sweatpants-and-tee-shirts times, us single girls relish the holiday party for the chance to show off some cleavage and reel in a randy fellow. It's been a long time since our Sexy Police Woman / Sexy Nurse / Sexy Mailman costume at Halloween, after all. In northern climates, we're wearing down jackets from late September until late March, so dress-up opportunities are few and far between. The trick, of course, is to show off your girls in a sensible way. So how low should you go? Aim for what you feel comfortable with -- though we suggest you aim for social appropriate-ness. A cocktail party on a Saturday night? Go wild. An office party? Definitely show a bit less, but still enough to enchant Bingo in accounting. Synegogue or church? Cover 'em up.
When I go running I put my iPod in my sports bra—it just makes sense! I don't like to have something attached to my arm and carrying it in my hand messes with my stride; sticking a nano in my cleavage is easy! I'm shocked that more women don't do it. I admit, though, that I sometimes worry that my gym crush might wonder why I have wires coming out of my cleavage, and why I occasionally reach into my shirt and appear to be adjusting my boobs—I'm just skipping a song, I swear! So I'm not sure I'm into the idea of storing not just my iPod, but the entire contents of my purse, inside my bra. That's the concept behind the Cleavage Caddy (via Lemondrop), the signature product of Mazantri Creations, a company that's embraced the bra as storage. The idea of stashing a couple of bills and an ID in your bra isn't new, but the Caddy isn't just for cards and cash—there are compartments for a cellphone, pen, lip gloss—the works.
Victoria's Secret is the world's most famous lingerie brand, that's a fact. But a summer working there taught Rajul Punjabi that it's also great place to observe the female body image and it's self-esteem counterpart. It turns out, irrespective of the facts at hand, that women with enough self-esteem were happy with how they looked. All the thongs, bras, and garters in the store didn't matter as much as what was beneath them... way beneath them.