10/28/2012

Boobies 101

Whether you call them hooters, headlights, knockers, ta-tas, or whatever, the world is fascinated by breasts. I get enough mail on the subject to know that most women are not completely satisfied with their breasts and that most men adore breasts. Believe it or not, I get lots of mail from men who ask me questions about bras. These guys are completely involved in the bra buying duties for their women. And, no, these men are not buying bras for themselves. I know how to tell the difference and that is a whole different conversation. Obviously these gentlemen like the bras on their girls to look a certain way and do a specific job, so they do the buying. This is way more common than you might think. I have never had a man who wanted to buy bras for me, but I think it's kind of cute.

The best breasts on a woman are the ones that come with a healthy body.

If we go back in bosom history, nearly 100 years, we will see that women were always trying to figure out what to do with their breasts. In the early part of the 20th century, a woman's bust was always covered and minimized. Waists were featured, but never bosoms. They were kept safely hidden. Then came the roaring 20s and the notion that a round bustline got in the way of the straight silhouettes that dominated fashion. Boyish figures were all the rage and women actually flattened their bust lines by binding them. Then in the 30s, screen siren Jean Harlow changed the perception of female bosoms. It was thought in the era of silver screen that the perfect size breast would fit exactly into a champagne glass (we're talking the "old school" shallow type, not the long, skinny flutes they use now). In the 40s, bigger breasts took center stage in the movies thanks to Rita Hayworth and Jane Russell, and in the 1950s and someone decided that pointy breasts were the shape of the day. Bras had cups like missiles. The 60s and 70s went the other way completely. Natural breasts and the first seamless bras came into style, then no bras at all under clothing rocked fashion culture. The 80s and 90s flipped it back the other way. Big boobage and the pushed up look became big business. The advent of NFL cheerleaders in revealing costumes, Pam Anderson in her Baywatch swimsuit, and models in angel wings and padded push up bras set a whole new standard for breasts and breast size.

A crazy thing happened at the same time. Cleavage became appropriate for daytime. Showing off "the girls" became commonplace and quite accepted. The trend continues today. If you think I am kidding, go stand in front of a high school at 3 o'clock and watch the girl students come out. You will see as much cleavage coming out of class as you would see at a Las Vegas casino on Saturday night. How times have changed. When I was in high school, the girls had to get on their knees so that the principal could check to see if their skirt touched the floor. If it didn't, it was deemed too short and you were sent home. Thankfully, yours truly had mastered the fine art of rolling and unrolling a skirt faster than the speed of light, so I never got caught and I always looked sassy.

Big breasts are more popular now than ever. Ice-T loves Coco for more than her cooking. I will tell you proudly that I designed some of the first padded D and DD push up bras. It was assumed that large breasted girls don't want to look bustier. I know better. That's why I am Miss Fifi. Today we carry bras that enhance bust lines up to 44G.

So what are perfect breasts? The artistic standard (in case any of you ladies out there are thinking about a career as a breast model) is that ideal breasts don't have to be big, but they need to be full and luscious. The nipples should tilt slightly upwards towards the heavens. They should be just pendulous enough as to not be taut against the body. The litmus test to determine breast perfection is to place a pen or pencil under your naked breast. If the writing implement stays on its own, then consider your bosoms to be in the "perfect" category. I did this test myself some years ago. The pencil stayed put and I was pleased, but to this day I find it hard to return to Office Depot.

If you ask me about what makes breasts perfect, my answer is quite different. The best breasts on a woman are the ones that come with a healthy body. They are the ones that your sweetheart finds sexy, the ones that punctuate your womanly hourglass shape and, most importantly, the ones that cushion your children's heads when you hold them in your arms. To me, it doesn't matter if breasts are large or small, saggy or firm. And from the mail I get from husbands and boyfriends, they like all of them too.

Okay, so your breasts aren't perky anymore and they point closer to Dallas than heaven. It shouldn't matter. Besides, I have all kinds of great bras, pads, and tricks up my sleeve to create a fantastic bustline. Just write to me if you need help.

Next month is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I waited until the end to bring it up. This is not a commercial and I am not nagging, but for those of you in the recommended age group, please get your mammogram. No, it's not fun having your breasts squeezed by a cold machine while someone fully-clothed is demanding that you hold your breath. I was overdue for my yearly test and made an appointment this morning. I hate doing the monthly breast exams even though I teach how to do it. But I do all the precautionary things and you should too. Teach your partner to do the exam. He's probably an expert by now anyway.

I hope you enjoyed my little retrospect on the history of breasts in fashion. I am not just here to make you laugh. I am here to educate you and watch out for you whenever possible.

Until next time.

10/21/2012

Therapy Or No therapy... That Is The Question

I don't know if you realize this by now, but I find it completely comfortable and ridiculously easy to confess my "sins" and shortcomings to you. It doesn't seem to bother you that I may be a little loopy by other people's standards. Many of you write back to me and tell me that you feel the same way and do the same stuff that I do. I figure that I either have the most understanding and supportive readership in the universe or that I just naturally attract other wack-a-doos like myself. Whatever it is, it works for me.

You already know that I am a bit eccentric. I have not been shy about admitting my deepest secrets. My weaknesses are an open book to you, my darling readers.

You know that I love to dine and am always on a diet. In all fairness, my dieting would be far more successful if it weren't for one thing - I get hungry.

You are well aware that I am very fashion conscious. Would you trust my merchandise if I were not? Fashion is my passion. I am not ashamed.

...what I like most is for my world to be basically divine at all times.

You know that I love animals madly. I am proud that the LoveFifi building has as many doggies as people running around here. Some think this is crazy. I think it’s crazy good. By the way, I do not consider the fact that my dogs have as many clothes as I do a bad thing.

You have probably also learned that I tend to exaggerate, I talk a lot, I love over-doing, and I don't like to do or watch sports. I love lobster and champagne or hot dogs with sauerkraut and a good beer equally. I am not a snob, but I like what I like. And what I like most is for my world to be basically divine at all times. It's a pretty simple concept.

This lifestyle does not come without drawbacks, dilemmas, or for that matter, self doubt. Not all things fabulous come without strings. Sometimes staying in control is difficult and that's why I look to you for help when I think I might be going over the edge.

I want to stop denying an addiction that seems to be getting worse with age, not better. This situation is so multi-faceted and complex. It's way worse than if I were dependent on chocolate or gambling or wine for my highs. This is much WORSE and an intervention may be necessary.

They say that admission is the first step to recovery. So OK, I admit it. I am a "decor whore".

I am not feeling guilty about the items I buy for my home or office. These places are my domains and I cannot be Fifi without proper ambiance. Admittedly, I may go a little overboard on buying home and garden and decorator magazines, but I need the inspiration. But I can't bear to throw them away and end up with stacks of home and garden and decorator magazines that take up space. I did actually buy a self-help magazine that teaches you to organize your stuff, but I can't find it. Anyway, I spend lots of time at flea markets and garage sales, as well as furniture stores and auctions looking for just the right things for my personal spaces. In my own defense, this is the first time in my life that I have lived alone since college. It's not that my 1970s cinder block bookshelves or my grandmother's hand-me-down loveseat weren't grand; they were...at the time. I loved my little place, but now I am a woman and not a starving student. I have a few nickels to rub together to make my spaces pretty and I am proud at how it’s all turned out. Everything around me says "ME" and that feels good. This, however, is not the BIG problem.

Having your home reflect your taste is sexy. What might be getting me into trouble (I depend on you to be honest with me) is that I am an absolute fool for HOLIDAY decor. Whenever I go shopping, my feet seem to move, as if by magic, to the "seasonal" department of whatever store I am in. I just can't seem to do any of my shopping until I check out what's new for the next event on the calendar.

Don't worry, my obsession with holiday-themed goodies won't take me to the poor house but I am worried that the funny farm may be looking for me. I am prudent with my purchases. For example, I made sure that my Halloween decorations transition seamlessly into a Harvest Festival theme after October 31st. My fantastically orchestrated sprays of autumn leaves and twigs take me right through until after Thanksgiving. The witches and ghosts go away and the gourds and ears of multi-color corn appear. This is normal behavior, right? I am only asking because no one would say a word if I still had a house full of kids, but I live alone with two poodles.

This issue is heavy on my mind because the hardest time of year for me is here. Christmas decorations are everywhere. What actually inspired me to write to you for validation of my sanity was that the other night I was struck by a huge thought when I pulled into my garage. Is it strange that a woman who lives by herself should have more than half of her garage designated to holiday adornments? Granted, most of that is Christmas, but I have at least one bin each for the other holidays. I don’t do sports, so there are no golf clubs or skis to take up room. I have to fill my garage with something, right?

As I exited my car, I was still feeling guilty about the massive amount of holiday falderal that I own. Thankfully those thoughts were diverted as I got involved in carefully removing my new gold painted paper mache reindeer from the back seat. It was right there, at eye level, at my drug store as I waited to drop off my prescription. I swear he winked at me and said “take me home”. He will sit inside my front door and greet people with all his golden majesty during the Christmas season. I am only telling you this so you will understand that this purchase was a necessity and not an extravagance. I did it for my guests and besides, he is way too gorgeous to live another minute at Walgreens. Let’s just think of it as a paper mache reindeer rescue.

So, there you have it. I held nothing back. Tell me what you think. I can take it.

Before you decide, let me stress that the things I buy are beautiful and give me joy. I figured out last weekend that I wasn’t completely out of control when I walked by Christmas pillow cases, hand towels, and pot holders and winced. I had absolutely no interest. Who buys stuff like that anyway? None of it sparkles, for goodness sake.

You know, this whole love affair with holiday decorations might be my parents fault! When I was a little one, they always took me downtown to see the Christmas window displays at the big department stores. I would look through the glass in amazement at the brilliantly lit animated displays. There was always the sound of music box Christmas songs accompanying the magic. I stood there endlessly and wished I could live in that twinkly enchanted wonderland at Christmastime.

And now I do…