Dr. Chris Ryan recently wrote about female breasts and wondered why men find them so appealing. Personally, I don't think its just men. When you show nude photos to women while tracking their eye movements, they look at breasts too. Asked about this, females report they were looking mostly by way of comparison. How do hers stack up next to mine? That may be so but the fact remains, we're a nation hooked on bosoms and bigger ones appear to be better ones. Just consider the number of breast augmentations performed in a year even though numerous studies have shown that men see size and IQ in an inverse ratio.
Then there's the breast look-alikes used to catch the buyer's eye in advertisements going back to the 50's. By "look-alikes" I mean any set of bilateral, symmetrical hemispheres. This would include the round, side-by-side dials on everything from washing machines to dashboards. Half a century ago, Madison Avenue types referred to these as unconscious motivators and I'd say that makes sense despite what one woman told me: If such a thing motivated me unconsciously...don't you think I'd know about it?
Some recent research suggests that men who enjoy looking at breasts live longer. You have to wonder about how serious the investigators were but here again, it makes sense to me. I know I feel a lift, a very definite positive sensation, when I spot a pair. Having attended a bunch of sexy functions (I used to be in the XXX biz) you might think I'd be immune. I'm not. I have certainly been desensitized to a degree but I still enjoy looking.
What's more, I'm convinced they don't all look the same. A fellow in the bra business told me they can actually vary from nation to nation so you have to know your population before starting your production run. Some point up others down and still others point apart. In Israel, these are said to be mad at each other and much admired. In Singapore, a triple A walking along Orchard Road is not at all uncommon and no one seems to mind. Interestingly enough, there is a Hooters on Clarke Quay but the serving wenches are mostly Aussies or Yanks.
During the reign of Charles I, we're told that fashionable women dressed with their naked breasts on display and that what's called a Champagne glass (despite the fact you'd never want to use it for Champagne) was modeled after Marie Antoinette's breast. Clearly, it's good to be King. But the point here is that, even after significant exposure, they still have significant appeal.
So here you have two simple fatty deposits that nevertheless can be counted upon to bring great joy. You just know this is an area that's tailor-made for masochistic rejection and pious denial. When Janet Jackson had her on-air wardrobe malfunction, people all across the fruited plain suffered mental malfunctions. You know the nonsense that followed and, all the while, families in France where gathered around their TV's watching topless contestants competing on game shows. No wonder they think we're crazy.
But you want to know how crazy? I was watching one of those doctor shows about turning a man into a woman. So they show this guy bare-chested just before his breast augmentation. The surgeon draws circles around his nipples to suss out just where the saline pouches should be inserted. The procedure proceeds and you see lots of bloody close-ups. Finally, it's done and there's the same guy as before only now he has two plastic bags under this skin. Would you believe, two fuzzy circles suddenly appeared on the screen to hide the exact same nipples we saw two minutes earlier? No, I'm not making this up.
And if that's not enough to convince you that this is a problem, I was watching another show about tattoos. They showed how they go back in time and how different cultures view them differently. Then they showed a sailor with arms that looked like a comic book...full of pictures. Stuck in among ships and anchors he had a bare-breasted Betty Boop. This, in case you don't know, is a cartoon character. Would you believe those same two fuzzy circles blocked out the breasts? Pretty soon we'll have a society that gets off on fuzzy circles.
Years ago, when there was still a Yugoslavia; I stayed at the world's second largest nudist colony. It was like a small city with supermarkets, restaurants, theaters and nightclubs. Needless to say, the place was packed with people...something like twenty thousand as I recall. They came in all shapes and sizes with whole families from Italy, France, Spain, the Netherlands and especially Germany. There were couples and singles, parents, grandparents and children of all ages. Yet there wasn't a therapist or a councilor or a posttraumatic stress specialist in sight and I didn't see anyone wearing a SURVIVOR button. In fact, I didn't see anybody wearing anything...just enjoying a wholesome holiday au naturel...just like God intended.
