Sunday, December 31, 2006

Breasts...The Big...The Beautiful...The Boobalicious

Remembering my conversation with the boys and mainly their fascination with breasts and behinds got me thinking about my own. So now that we're on the subject I want to say two things right up front: First, I am grateful and feel blessed because even though they may be drooping like snapdragons in the Sahara, they are mine and they are healthy. Secondly, as with most things, you always seem to want whatever it is you don't have.

I'm not bragging but I've always had great boobs....the kind of breasts that men admire and women envy. And even though I'm not the type to keep them on display 24/7, I'm kinda known for my breasts (among other things, damn it!). Mine have been voted the "breasts I'd like to have" by more than a few women around neighborhood. And I've even had men (tacky as it sounds) point to my breasts as the size and shape their women should buy. Once, I was at a party, and a woman came up to me and rubbed her face in my bosom, stating she'd been wanting to do that all night. Can't you just hear the nervous laughter? I was mortified.

Okay, it sounds a little like bragging but I'm really not because it took me forever to get them (Carla DeLucci and I were the only girls still wearing a training bra in the eighth grade) and then it wasn't until I got into my 40's (when frankly they aren't quite so glorious) that I fell in love with my breasts.

In high school, my boobs got me a lot of embarrassing attention. My sexual confidence wasn't quite keeping up with my bustline so I tried to hide the source of the attention. I didn't wear low cut or particularly tight shirts, nothing to really showcase the girls. I didn't even wear a bikini until I was of legal drinking again! Looking back it was my shyness about my body that gave me the 'mysterious' side that still defines me today.

When I was in my twenties, having great breasts was a real asset for sure. Yes, they were a man-magnet, but by then I was finding my fashion style and all the clothes I wanted to wear looked better on smaller breasted women--like models (forget I'm only 5'3" and curvy. Like I said, you always want what you don't have). I spent most of my twenties wishing for B-cups. With smaller breasts I could wear the sexy halter tops and blazers without a blouse and daring bathing suits cut down to my bellybutton without people forgetting I had a face and always zeroing in on my mammories. Wearing those kind of clothes with large breasts, more often than not, crosses that fine line between sexy and slutty, and the General's daughter is no slut.

But let's be real. They were an attention-getter and a definite plus when it came down to my husband deciding to ask me to marry him.

In my thirties, my breasts were baby-magnets. They changed, filling up to a size D-cup to nurture my children and then returning to my normal C-cup. It must have been wearing those ugly maternity bras that led me to discover the thrill of pretty brassieres. Though more comfortable with my cleavage, I was now in that distorted mommy vs sex object confused stage, so while I was dressing more like a mommy, lingerie became my invisible obsession. I could buy bras anywhere--from the poshest lingerie shop to Marshall's. I'd always find something to keep me sensually outfitted.

I entered my 40's a stone diva. In the best shape of my life, I felt great--sexy and wise--and my breasts never looked better. I was more confident about my body and myself in general. Forty was fantastic. Forty was fabulous. Forty through forty-three was the freakin' bomb. Then I turned 44 and stuff (like hormones and gravity) started to happen. All my bras and tops were shrinking. I went to get fitted only to realize that it wasn't the bras getting smaller (duh!) but my boobs getting larger. Oh no! I never wanted bigger boobs! I never asked for bigger boobs. Why not give them to someone who really needed them?

I went from a 36 C to a 42 Long (okay a wee bit of an exaggeration). Forget that 36 D is the most requested size for breast augmentations. This change in cup size caused a huge upheaval to my female psyche. My bigger boobs were making me feel matronly. Dowdy. It wasn't fair. I'd had such a short time of feeling fabulous. Hormones suck.

I felt I was now sentenced to wearing beige, granny bras (sorry Grandy) with enough hardware to set off airport metal detectors. I was afraid to walk past refrigerator magnets. Now my clothes didn't fit. I had to start buying a larger size to accommodate my breasts and then run to the tailor to fit the rest of my body. Button up shirts were now cardigans. I had to worry about wearing scoop necklines so I didn't look like I was sporting a uniboob. And then there was the added pressure of upping my exercise routine. I really had to worry about keeping my stomach toned so I didn't end up walking around looking like the capital letter B. All the while I was reverting back to high school. Trying to cover the girls back up so I wouldn't be perceived as a desperate old diva. And because I had no other choice (nothing buttoned damn it!) my cleavage was spilling out on a more regular basis. The comments flew! I was back to feeling embarrassed and annoyed.

But a funny thing happened somewhere around 45. I once again began to enjoy the attention the girls were bringing me. After nearly twenty years of avoiding them, I am intentionally wearing clothes that showcase my cleavage. Instead of cringing at the subtle glances and cheeky comments, I appreciate them. Perhaps it is the I-could-give-a-damn-attitude that comes with middle age or the desire to stay sexually relevant, but I'm no longer concerned what anyone thinks about me. I've matured into my bustline. On my last vacation I even wore a bikini and after twenty minutes of strategically positioning myself so my nipples didn't get lost in my armpits, I even got quite a few glances and smiles (okay, they were men well past 40 but men nonetheless). And guess what, because D cup is the most requested fake boobie size, there are plenty of beautiful, sexy bras out there for the wearing and sharing.

So now we come to the moral of this story and this entire blog, which is that ATTITUDE is everything. It takes so long for us women to find and be comfortable with our sexual selves that we miss so many great life and love experiences worrying that we don't measure up--whether by cup size or hair length or dress size. We receive so many mixed messages about what's sexy and who's sexy that we worry ourselves into sexlessism (I'm not sure that's a real word but you get the gist). It's like the Babes said in my last entry, they'd rather be with a confident woman with small boobs than a uncomfortable one with Pamela Anderson's.

Okay, I won't lie. It feels good being both confident and boobalicious. But before you think I'm bragging again, know this. I got good breasts because God decided that I couldn't have it all and gave me absolutely no butt. None. Zilch. Nada. Great Wall of China. Flapjack. Those were the typical cracks thrown at me, until of course, I turn around. :-)

So, all you WMS out there, pick out your best feature and embrace it. Take what you've got (forget about what's not) and work it til you drop!

What do you think?

Next entry: New year...A New Sensual You.

Friday, December 29, 2006

Out of the Mouth of Babes

I was going through my research notes for Weapons and ran across the interviews I did with several men, all of different age, race, economic and marital status, asking them what about women attracted them. As this is a blog on how to be a weapon of mass seduction, I thought you'd be as interested as I was to hear their answers. For the record, all of the men mentioned in some form or another "great tits and a slamming ass," so let's just put that out there now. But beyond that, their answers proved to be enlightened and amazingly quite similar.

1. What about a particular woman who walks into the room do you find attractive and commands your attention? Joe, 59: For me, sensuality is the spark. I can look at a woman and the way she is groomed, really her attitude toward her dressing, catches my eye. That and mysterious confidence. She'll walk into a room, knows she's being checked out but waits to makes eye contact. Doug 26: A woman with a confident demeanor. Someone who's not afraid to get out on the dance floor and have fun, but not a freak either, a "lady" with a little bit of a wild side. But you get all of that from everything about her, walk, talk, dress, who she is with, what drink she orders, how she orders just have to assess well. Ted 39: A soft smile. Her confidence. The way she walks. God-given hair that can be styled in different ways. What she wears and how she wears it. How she innocently but strategically shows off her best attributes. Madison 50: Her style, her energy. It's really about the way a woman carries herself because style and energy will supersede age and looks.

2. What do you find sexy about a woman? Ken 45: Brains. There is nothing less sexy than striking up a conversation with someone who has no idea that a white woman just blasted her black husband out of a Tennessee jail. Or one who has no discernible position on why we are in Iraq. Maybe that makes me a lot different from all the other guys...and it might, but I have always felt this way. I would walk across the room to talk to a girl and I would likely say something witty that was current events or news related and if it sailed above her head I was always looking for away out. That conversation was over! Giuseppe 56: Passion is what makes a woman sexy. The body may not be perfect. The face more interesting than beautiful, but if a woman has charm then I want to know her. Joe: Doe eyes, well manicured hands and feet, subtle imperfections such as a mole on her lower lip or neck. Madison: A woman who communicates that she has a sexual appetite and sexual energy in a subtle way that lets you know she's no freak but she's no lady either. Doug: When my jaw drops while she is wearing flip flops, sweatpants, a sports bra and a hat. Anyone can look good dressed up, but if you can get my while you are bumming it....then you must be a keeper....and probably that little bit of a wild side I talked about earlier.

3. How important is the physical? Joe: Physical is not important if she knows how to work with what she has. If she's self-conscious about certain physical parts of her body and it shows, that's a turn-off. Madison: If she has other things to compensate for the physical--things like wit, intellect, humor, energy and good conversation the physical isn't so important and if she is attractive and has none of the other things it matters even less. Ken: Physical appearance is very important. I dated several women who I didn't feel were "pretty enough" to show to my friends. Then one day one of my friends was telling me about his new lady friend and he said, "You're not going to like her...she's not a beauty queen." And then I asked him when was the last time either of us was in the company of a beauty queen and we both realized that we ought to start worrying more about what we liked about a girl than what our friends liked. Ted: Very important. It's what catches the eye and stirs the imagination to wonder.

4. What's the one thing that will win you over every time? Ken: Brains. Being funny! Being down. Joe: Intelligence, wit, sense of humor, and a great smile. Doug: Gets me every time...that little smirk from across the room to say "Hello." Even if I have been with a girl for years, that will always make me smile. Giuseppe: Eyes that smile at me and tell me what she is really thinking. Madison: If she exudes life-force and sexual energy. That tells me she is into life and is a positive person instead of a complainer. I like a little aggressiveness--enough to tell me that she's independent and not trying to sap my energy. Ted: The combination of her lips, eyes, and smile. All: Great tits and a slamming ass.

Interesting, yes? So what do you think?

Next Entry: Breasts...the Big, the Beautiful, the boobalicious

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Bringing Sexy Back

"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety. Other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where she most satisfies." Shakespeare

Even in 1601, William Shakespeare, speaking of Cleopatra, got the joke: A confident, sensual woman is ageless and unforgettable. Centuries later, in the 1920's, the godmother of seductive, feminine sensuality, Gabrielle Chanel, brought us Chanel No. 5, the indespensible LBD (little black dress) and the mindset that "for one to be irreplaceable, one must always be different."

But somewhere between Coco Chanel and Nicole Kidman, sensuality and seduction became a spectator sport. We "normal" women sat back and watched the beautiful people have all the fun, settling for living vicariously through the loves and lives of famous celebrities and literary characters. We got so bogged down underneath all the details of our lives of being everything to everybody that we forgot the soft, sensual sides of ourselves. And by the time we sat down, exhaled and remembered, society was telling us that part of our lives were over. Well, Justin Timberlake, sweet man-child that he is, got it right. It's time to bring sexy back!

My new novel, Weapons of Mass Seduction, in tandem with this blog, is designed to help women like you and me find our way back to our lost sensual side--the side that gets pushed away as life becomes more demanding and age (and other people's opinions) take their toll on our feminine confidence. From the living room to the bedroom and everywhere in between I'll be sharing my thoughts on sensual living and loving. Enjoy and by all means, feel free to send me comments.

Next entry: Out of the Mouth of Babes