I got my breasts the old-fashioned way; I grew them. That they are natural is obvious by their shape and their sag, which in a woman in my age and size bracket, is to be expected. I’m not bragging. Heidi Montag found out what natural breast women have been saying all along. Big boobs hurt. The bras we must wear pinch delicate skin. Our shoulders hunch from holding up our twin globes, which when not encased by support, tend to resemble globs.
Hollywood beauties continue to put their enhanced ‘breast’ features forward at various times and poses, and we stop, stare and pause, mesmerized and horrified, as the boobie wars continue. Are they for pleasure? For purpose? Does admiring them reduce us to T&A? How one answers that depends on so many things…
From the point of view of some feminists, breasts on display convey the message that a woman’s worth is determined by the size of her silicon valley. Along with breast-feeding advocates, they loathe the sexualization of a part of our bodies that most women admit feel pretty damn good in the hands and mouth of the right lover.
That breasts are both utilitarian and the source of sexual pleasure is a given to me. What I’m intrigued by is this: when it comes to size, some suggest there is a double-D standard in place depending on whether nature or the surgeon provided the goods. Breasts that are enhanced take on a life and admiration all their own compared to women whose body is au natural.
I suspect that there is something going on that has less to do with size, and more to do with proportion. Let’s call it breast to body volume percentage. Similar to body mass index, this term considers a woman’s breast mass vis-à-vis her overall body mass. And what used to be more normal proportions, that is, what Mother Nature generally dolled out when girls began developing, has been subverted by many factors.
Women who are naturally well endowed tend to carry weight in other places too; more cushion- for-the-pushin’ is one way to gently describe the ‘saftig’ look. Nature rarely gives skinny little girls big lady boobs. Of course, there are exceptions, but by and large, womankind came in various shapes and sizes, with breasts to match.
All that has changed. I personally blame Jessica Rabbit.
Remember her? For those born after the 1980’s, Ms. Rabbit (not to be confused with the vibrator made popular in the Sex and the City series), the sultry sex-bunny of that brilliant movie, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, introduced a ratio hitherto unseen in the natural world. I was a teen at the time, but I had a funny feeling back then that this cartoon version of womankind would have a lasting impact: if Hollywood could craft an image like that, and surgeons could operate, it wouldn’t be long before women (some with men nudging them along) would seek out ways to squeeze, suck, slice, suture and starve their bodies in an effort to look like a cartoon vamp.
Is it any wonder that young starlets like Heidi would succumb to this pressure? And now, 10+ surgeries later, she’s got the scars inside and out to show for it.
But you tell me your thoughts on this. When it comes to showing cleavage, how much boob is a good thing? And do we discriminate when it comes to natural vs. silicon valleys?
©2010-2011 Tinamarie Bernard; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article.