But in truth, the vast majority of female characters in my books are not endowed gorgeous melon-sized globes or overly-enhanced orbs. Most of my female characters are, instead, bestowed with smaller, more "athletic" sized breasts. Basically I'm biased towards an A or B cup...with very occasional ventures into other realms of the alphabet. And the reason for that isn't rocket science. That's where I fall, hence that's what I'm comfortable with...largely because when I write I have to put myself into the character's places and try to imagine myself as "them." And isn't ironic that it's easier for me to imagine myself as a man with a penis than as a woman with a double-D bra cup.
And what does this have to do with anything, you might ask? Well, last night my dear hubby and I went out and did something we haven't done for FAR too long. We went to one of our favorite clubs for an evening of dancing and socializing! However, unfortunately, and for a variety of reasons, the club wasn't quite as busy as usual and the DJ really got on our nerves. I got tired of hearing his drunken-sounding voice (no, he wasn't drunk, he just sounds like that...allll the time!) telling us repeatedly--in between every two songs, it seemed--how we were all going to party all night long, and how he was taking any and all requests and he guaranteed that he would play those requests. Well, he didn't play mine. The so-called DJ had never even heard of KT Tunstall or The Scissor Sisters, let alone had their music available. So, in between sporadic trips to the dance floor and chowing down on some really excellent French fries, my hubby and I passed the time with a little game of "Real or Refurbished." Just a good-natured game of trying to guess who among the guests have opted for a little engineering enhancement for their breasts.
Being blessed with relatively small, but unmistakabley perky mounds that seemed to fare quite well through the rigors of three rounds of pregnancy and lactation, I have never really considered the option of enhancement. And if I had I know for a fact my hubby would have actively discouraged it. He has a most distinct preference for the "unenhanced" female form and, having had opportunity to check out the "wares" of a fare number of women who have gone that route...so do I. Make no mistake, I have no issue with women wanting to feel better about themselves. With women who are in need of augmentation for reasons of health or significant "droopage" due to age or various other reasons. I don't even have issue with women who just want a little lift for no other reason than they want cleavage when they wear a low-cut gown. I do, however, have serious issues with THIS.
Of course this is an extreme example, and not one that the vast majority of women...or more specifically any SANE woman would ever aspire to, however it does astound me how many choose to augment to the point that it is so painfully (and I'm quite sure it was) obvious that that is what's happened. When breasts stick out from the chest all on their own, without any help from external sources, or when they just don't move during dancing or running...yeah. That is pretty much a give away. And, I'm sorry but...it just isn't sexy! And if you've ever had the privilege to touch a pair like that? Hard and unforgiving...no. Not sexy at all.
I do not now, nor have I ever, understood the Caucasian (I would say North American but judging from THIS bit of info we hardly have a monopoly on the obsession) obsession with silicone. Breasts are beautiful in ALL their forms...big or small, with tiny pink nipples or large dark areolas, pert and perfect, or etched with stretch marks...we should appreciate them for what they are. I guess what they are however, and what pleasures they provide, varies greatly from individual to individual. I just don't think they should ever be the soul source of esteem or a gage of sexiness for anyone.
If you have time, be sure to scroll down on that page and check out the video from the MidWest Teen Sex Show. It's hilarious! And very poignant.
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