Here's a small cultural observation that has been sharpened in my eye (like a pointy stick) since my 'little procedure'. Some kind, older volunteer type ladies left me some mags in the hospital assuming I might like some light girly frippery. So I put down my crochet and flipped the first one open to this. It was all about what kind of bra to wear to present your breastage up on the most appropriate platter. The model opposite was demonstrating how an ill-fitting bra might make you stand beside the toaster in the morning.
|"Ow. That so pinches!"|
So I flipped to another page and thought I'd get lucky with some headwear samples but, no, there was yet more breastage staring me in the eye from the adjacent page. Look away, ye of little breastage!
If it wasn't women with two ample breasts it was women with ample hair- and a bit of breastage thrown in!
|"Dammit! I have my ample hair caught in the bra snap of my ample breastage!"|
Now this fellow caught my eye which was watering by now. He is a famous Zoolander type of the most breastigious because he looks like a woman who looks like a man . His flat chestedness seems to have made him highly desirable in modelling circles as the perfect female body. So I'm thinking, at worst my chest could look like his till I turn the page to find.......
THIS!! What manner of woman's magazine is this?
Luckily I only read them for the articles so I immediately flicked to some text.
It would seem that according to this illustrious edition, cancer is my new career if not my star sign. It was, oddly, the only thing that made sense in the whole magazine.
Except for this pretty top which cost way too much.
Did I mention the witty (read witless) article where women were photographed to be assessed critically by themselves and their partners on how appealing their bodies appear. Which decade/ century are we in here?
I dropped the mags in the visitors lounge and picked up an old 'Inside Out' and a 'Wallpaper'. Those are 'wish books' that are a little less close to the bone right now!