It started with late night discussions with Treespotter, although I don’t remember how we came up with the idea because usually we talk about politics, poverty, or world peace. All I remember is we have to post one entry together at the same time, and we agree to post something about breasts, but we haven’t been able to synchronize our schedules and the draft has been in my draft box for a couple of weeks, and I kind of forgot it, until…
… A friend circulated a photo of our friend who is suspected underwent a breast surgery to several of us, all girls, and soon everybody had something to say about her, or her breasts.
So I guess I’d just post what I think then.
I am never quite sure why men are so fascinated by women’s breasts. No, not fascinated, more hypnotised. We go out and see girls with their plunging neckline tops, showing just a little bit of cleavage, and all men’s heads turn 360 degree just to peek at those views. The lower the neckline the longer time men take to stare at the pair hidden underneath the top.
But actually we don’t even need to work hard to show them. Have them all covered and men still stare at them, especially when we wear tight tops. Or have a tiny part of them incidentally peeping out when we wear buttoned-up shirt and the gap between buttons spread and show the center of the bra, especially from the side view, and men still crane their necks to get a peek (this was a constant argument between me and jealous boyfriend(s) in college and I had to always have the safety pin tagged between buttons and this was probably the only time I ever wished to have smaller breasts!). Or, if they spy even the slightest hint of nipple, regardless of the fullness of flesh of the surrounding neighborhood, they’re happy as clams (I remember all my friends went crazy over Jennifer Aniston in Friends, and if girls went crazy about her hairstyle, men did because she always seemed to forget to wear bra which cover her nipples, even when she wore a jumper). The point is, whether we hide or show our breasts, men still stare.
Actually, the answer to this question is almost unbelievably simple; We like them because they are there, and we don’t have them. Not to say that we want to have breasts of our own, so much as we just have this uncontrollable urge to fondle yours.
But perhaps men don’t realise that women are as obsessed as men about breasts., although not up to the state of wanting to fondle stranger’s breasts. But yes, we are obsessed with our own breasts and also with others women’s breasts. We frequently compare ourselves with other women and wonder if our breasts measure up – literally – because our culture in general has created such a fixation on women’s breasts that a large portion of women’s sexual identity is founded in their breasts. If we see a woman walking by with a nice pair of breasts, we instantly wonder – either innocently or with a little bit of jealousy – whether they are real or fake, or whether she’s got that nice bra from La Perla that makes her breasts look perkier.
We are also obsessed with them because we can dress them up with millions of choices of bra models, colors, materials, and brands. Not to mention nipple rings, or bra jewelry. And of course, we use our breasts for personal gain, like showing excessive cleavage to get served faster, or better yet, free drinks, at bars.
Even though we like to tease men’s imagination by showing a bit of cleavage, I don’t think anyone wishes to be referred to as just a pair of boobs. A friend went to my wedding wearing very daring dress that drew everybody’s attention to her breasts, and soon after that when people talk about her, they indicate her by holding their hands in front of their chests about half meter away in form of cups, indicating her large breasts, and say something like, “Hey, where is your friend?” (hands signal). I find their gesture annoying and childish because to me she is more than just a pair of boobs, she is sweet, and funny, not to mention gorgeous; but men now fail to see all those qualities because their eyes and mind will be forever fixed on her boobs. So the challenge would be showing the cleavage without spill the imagination, being sexy without being the sex object, tasteful but teasing, more Scarlett Johannson and less Pamela Anderson. Damn, it’s hard to be a woman!
My friend’s forwarded photo still gets comment from us after 2 days. The girl-with-fake-breasts in the picture has been our topic since probably 2 years a go when her tops suddenly became too tight and her cups went from A to – I’m not sure but I suspect – E. We talk endlessly about how different they look now (we compare before and after photo), how they feel if we touch them (since none of us has fake boobs), whether the surgery hurt, where she had it, how much it cost, and what they will look like when she is wrinkly and old. We even scrutinize all pictures of hers, trying to find some evidence which show her boobs are indeed fake. We also asked the ex boyfriend to dish us some dirty secrets (and as a perfect gentleman, he refused to reveal anything).
She is one of the example of growing number of Indonesian women who spend more and more money on breast implants, breast enlargement pills or creams, silly equipment, and other cosmetic procedures to increase the size of their breasts. It’s because many of us think that larger breasts will give us a sense of empowerment and boost up our sexiness and confidence.
Well, most of the times when the-girl-with-fake-boobs wears non-existent top, she draws attention from both men and women (men wanting to touch them, and women wanting to scratch them, haha!). But, as cliche as it sounds, the new inflated boobs doesn’t fix her insecurity and doesn’t give her empowerment she is longing for. In other words, it doesn’t change her character and personality. She is still single (and moaning about being single), floating from one bar to another, hopping from one city to the next, looking for Mr. Right. She has tons of Mr. Right Now, but hasn’t been successful of finding a guy who wants to see her beyond her breasts. On the other hand, like I pointed out to my friends, at least two of them are happy-flat-chested girls. They still get tons of male’s attention despite their cup sizes. They’re happily admit they have small breasts, and although they wish to have bigger boobs, they don’t plan to having them enlarged. They still wear low neckline tops, proudly parading their assets.
So what’s the whole point of talking about this?
No point, really. Didn’t I just say that we are as obsessed as men if it comes to breasts? I guess the lengthy post is a proof.