Rack 'Em Up!

My life always seems to revolve around one thing. Somehow, no matter how much I fight it or attempt to turn my back on it, there it is rearing its not-so-ugly head at me again.

Boobies.

My mom had her 40th school reunion this past weekend and was relating a story to me about one of her former classmates showing a group of their friends her boobs. To be more exact, showing them one of her boobs and a nice tattoo where the other boob would have been.

The woman had recently had a mastectomy and instead of looking at the scar which traced down over the left side of her chest had decided to get a large and rather ornate tattoo in its place. No big thing, really. I've heard about other women doing something similar. What struck me was that she was standing in the middle of the conference room at some hotel, shirt pulled open, showing everyone that was willing to look.

I'm all about pride and all (although I've outlined my thoughts on cancer, this is a different argument), but I had to ask my mom if she was at all surprised. Her response was that she thought it was rather "demystifying" to show other women that her life wasn't over and that she'd decided to do this to help herself feel better.

My mother fucking confuses me sometimes.

See, she's the type of woman who LOATHES tattoos. She called me "trashy" when I got mine and calls other people "gross" who have extensive ink work. So her being impressed with a tattoo was a head-scratcher for me. She later went into how it wasn't the tattoo that impressed her, but that this woman was so willing to share what she had gone through.

Hmm. My mind started to work in its funky circle again.

So I asked her if this had been a woman who had had breast augmentation done and was showing off a boob job to whomever in the room wanted a peek, would she have felt the same way? Mom then decided to argue the point with me that it wasn't about that, that I was reading too much into things and promptly walked away from me to bring my inquisition to a halt.

When I was younger, I didn't have very big tits. I was barely a B cup with a mother who was on the verge of a double D. I was incredibly insecure about what I possessed in my chest region. My mom had always had large breasts and repeatedly told me that it was better to be smaller, that she had all sorts of issues with hers growing up.

I started thinking about this after reading a post from another friend about her large chest. I find it disconcerting that a big set of boobs is misconstrued as an invitation to make lewd comments and assumptions. Men think women with larger breasts are somehow less intelligent. Women (usually those lacking in size themselves) assume that big boobied women are sluts. While I'm sure that there is evidence to support both of those assumptions, it is not a steadfast rule of thumb.

As I've gotten older, heavier and after having Midget, my breasts have gotten larger. The attention that I've received has been different. While I should be offended, I'm actually quite tickled that people compliment my boobs now. It's not exactly an ego-boosting thing, as I am fully aware that the compliments are on a purely shallow level and therefore mean nothing to me in the long run, but I am tickled nonetheless.

I like to stop by a website called www.flashyourrack.com, where women can post pictures of their boobs and get them rated by strangers. There are photos that are clearly lifted images, but a good deal of the photos are of average women. I don't look at this site to get my jollies. I find it fascinating that there are so many different "styles" of boobs out on the market.

I don't discredit implants on a whole, either. There are good and bad boob jobs everywhere. While there are those that look like shit, I'm not going to deny that some look fantastic. In fact, on a purely aesthetic level, boob jobs usually look better than real tits. No sagging, no uneven nipples, (usually) no stretch marks. Artistically, implants are hot. How they feel is a whole other discussion for another day.

If I have any bias, I suppose it is towards larger, natural breasts. This mainly stems from years of having a smaller set myself and wanting what I didn't have. I think most of the negative feelings towards women with large breasts (coming from lesser endowed women) is due to envy. Men seem to gravitate towards women who have more as well.

Yet I have a solid group of male friends who (quietly) admit that they don't like boobs to be too big. One told me that the adjective to describe what he considered "perfect" breasts was "perky." He'd had girlfriends with large, small, practically non-existent, and also one with a fake set. While he supported her decision to go bigger and went to the doctor with her, he also told her he was fine with what she had.

I think in the long run, if a man is fucking you, he feels the same.

So, the obsession with boobs. Where will it end? Will there ever be a day when women of the world can feel good about what they have and not want to criticize what others do or don't have? Will men ever look into a woman's eyes and say "Gee, you have boobs? I didn't notice!" Probably not.

So just accept the fact that they're out there, big and small, and that it's no big deal. Well, unless you lose one. Then you can go get yourself a nifty tattoo. I can even recommend a couple of great guys to you for that. But only if you flash me.



Discussion of the Day:

Is there a "perfect" breast size? Or share a story about something odd/funny/infuriating that happened to you about your boobs (or your girlfriend/spouse's boobs).

And Please Go Vote For My Pussy! Thanks!!