Product Placement

Mammary alert! To male and/or prudish readers (that means you, Dad): If the very thought of breasts and bras (mine, anyone's) makes you all flustered and uncomfortable, stop reading now.

Unless it's too late, in which case, you might as well enjoy the haiku.

Back fat in bra cups.
False advertising? Or just
Good product placement?

The back story (pun intended) on this one has to do with the age-old female practice of making one's "bosoms" (as my grandmother used to call them) look bigger and more perky than they really are. I say age-old and use my Granny as a reference here, because one of her favorite stories involved the time during their 1920s courtship when my grandfather Clifford took her up in an (unpressurized) airplane and tried not to notice when the inflatable falsies in her shirt began - literally - blowing up. Fortunately both Granny and Papa possessed a good sense of humor and were able to laugh the incident off ... at least, as Papa would inevitably assert when Granny had finished relating this saucy tale at family gatherings, he was spared the honeymoon surprise experienced by most men of his generation when the buxom women they'd just promised to love honor and cherish took off their "Lady Parts" and put them in a drawer.


Well, here it is, almost a hundred years later, and things haven't really changed. Gel inserts have replaced blow-ups, and surgical implants have added a whole new dimension to the practice, but the fact remains that many of us who are less-than-well endowed in the Lady Parts department are always on the lookout for a good enhancement opportunity.


I thought I knew every trick in the book, but this one took me by surprise ... you might even say "aback."

Ha.

As those of you who may recall all the way back to LifeKu post #3 ("Dressing for One of Those Days"), earlier this summer I experienced the sad and (literally) painful loss of My Favorite Bra. That sorry tale utimately had a happy ending; those of you who are curious can go back and look in the comments section of that post.

For me, however, it was the process as much as the outcome that proved really interesting ... even, one might say, "uplifting."

Ha AGAIN.

Anyway, a-bra-shopping I did go, and I met a very nice and very knowledgable saleswoman (or "fit consultant," as she prefers to be called) in the Nordstrom's lingerie department. According to her, the secret to really rocking a good bra lies in one's ability to incorporate the entirety of one's "torso flesh" (aka "back fat") into the cups of the aforementioned brassiere. This involves, literally, using one's hands like little fleshly backhoes to "scoop" everything forward, back to front, so that once the scooping is done and the bra is safely secured by its clever little front closure ...

Voila!

Instant cleavage.

Cheating? Maybe. But only a little. And far less alarming than having your beloved's boobies explode.