I still remember being about 10 years old and wishing I had big boobs so that the boys would notice me. Man, what a stupid kid.
Much like buying pants, buying a bra is easy for a lucky portion of women; the rest of us are simply doomed to suffer. Even the name bra...short for brazier...sounds uncomfortable. The only enjoyable part of a bra is how good it feels when you take it off at the end of the day.
Bras have been around for quite some time, over a hundred years in fact, so why are most of them still akin to medieval torture devices? I'm sure if you told a man that he was expected to wear underwear that has metal wire in it to support his testicles, he would not fancy the idea of putting metal near his sensitive skin. However, as women, the bearers of breasts, those mixed blessings that give nourishment to the young and provide entertainment for the slightly older are our closest comparison. They are composed of flesh, blood, ducts, fat...namely, human material...however their natural state is deemed unappealing and they must be covered and restrained in bras. Functionally there is some benefit...if you're over an A cup and have ever tried to run while bra-less, many risk injury to themselves and passersby. So, every morning (unless it's a lazy Sunday), we lock and load our girls into the bra for hours of wear.
Bras come in many shapes and sizes, which is probably why the vast majority of us wear the wrong size. We get measured for our first bra in high school and the first post-breast feeding bra after childbirth and that's about the only times we bother to ensure we are still the same size. A bad bra is like having a self-inflicted wound that you willingly re-open every day. The bra is meant to lift and support, so a bad bra does the opposite- it weighs you down and puts strain on all the wrong spots. Thanks to my frontage, I still have massive back, neck and shoulder problems from years of carrying the weight incorrectly because La Senza hasn't got a clue how to make a real bra. If you pay less than $50 for a bra, you may as well just go without and dislocate your shoulder preemptively. Sure, many of them look cute, sexy etc...but 99% of them should be worn for an hour tops before you're actually doing harm to your body. This is all assuming that you are among the proportion of women who need to wear a bra because they have breasts that are too big to go bra-less- which is <10% on average worldwide.
So since only <10% of women could consider wearing clothing without having to wear a bra underneath, can some explain to me why all fashion now makes it impossible to wear bras with the outfits? I've previously described the most recent fashion trend as 'waifchella', which means that it all looks like it belongs at Coachella and would only suit women of waif sizing (aka half a toothpick). This style trend also includes a lot of cut out tops, low cut, backless, super tight etc clothing. None of this clothing actually accounts for any type of bra or breast support under the clothing. Therefore, they are marketing 90% of clothing to a maximum audience of 10%....and people wonder why we have body issues.
However, if you're like me and you have a plumage that needs one of these bra contraptions, I cannot recommend a proper bra any more highly. Find yourself a real boutique, not La Senza (La Crapza), not Victoria's Secret (whose secret is that they make terrible bras) and get yourself properly fitted. Any professional couturier will tell you that those chains mentioned above do not measure you properly- they will simply give you whatever size they want to sell you, not what fits you. A well-made, well-fitting bra and change your life. It will make you look 10 pounds thinner and 5 years younger. You will stand up straighter, you will feel less pain in your shoulder and back and you'll notice how clothing fits better.
So ladies, take care of your girls, because the bra may never be a girl's best friend, but we can at least try to make sure they aren't our worst enemy.
White Girl Blogging
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Friday, 2 September 2016
Thursday, 10 March 2016
A Woman's Rant part one- Periods
I know we live in a time where we are supposed to be gender normative, gender neutral, full equality and never admit that any one human being is in any way different to any other human being. Well, suck my big fat lady balls. I am a woman, and biologically, that still means something. So if my discussing problems that are unique to my gender is a trigger to you and your hypersensitive gender issues, I suggest using the red 'X' at the top right of the page right now.
Alright, let's start with the obvious. Periods. There- that just got rid of a whole ton of male readers (as if I have readers) unless they are over the age of 30 and have been married long enough that it's as much as part of their life as oil changes and taking the garbage out.
Periods are something women have to deal with for 30-40 years of their life...every single month (except during pregnancy) and they are a simply biological process and completely natural. They are also lifelong hell curses sent by Satan himself. Seriously, the reward for not getting knocked up every month is to bleed out of your crotch for 5 days and feel like a whale who has been harpooned and left for dead?
Emotionally we're on a roller coaster we have zero control over where one second you're screaming at a kitten, the next you want to cry because you dropped your pen. It's especially bad during your teenage years, your hormones are already going crazy enough, then you through the period monkey wrench in there and watch out- you've got a walking grenade that can go at any second for no reason. I remember once screaming and whipping a fork at my brother's head because he jokingly took it from me in the kitchen one day...I still remember the look of terror on my entire family's face as I did it. I didn't mean to react that way, I certainly didn't mean to hurt him...but at that moment, I was so blinded with hormonal rage that I just....kablammo. As we age, our hormones change, so that means how we are during pre-menstrual and menstrual times change- some of us mellow out a bit more, some people get more unpredictably emotional, it's different for everyone...and we have no more warning than anyone else. Maybe one month you are just horrendously sad about everything- everything makes you cry (like the time I sobbed at a Muppet movie I'd seen a hundred times before), but maybe the next month everything makes you unreasonably aroused (like...you're siting at your desk and your mind just keeps wandering to the most 50 Shades-ish type fantasies for no reason). Men tend to think that women are so cranky and emotional around their periods just because they're upset or frustrated with having to have a period...nope, that pretty much has nothing to do with it. Our emotions get hijacked by some little red goblin in our brains and they hit the button 'random'...the same little goblin who gives teenage boys unexpected erections and drives their brain to think about sex and boobs....that little jerk goblin takes over our emotions.
Physically, good god. So, first of all, we bleed. Some only bleed a little bit...I call these women b*tches. I had friends growing up who only ever had light little periods and were more like those annoying women in the tampon commercials who only wear white and ride horses on the beach while on their periods. Most of us are not that lucky. Some of us full on bleed- like, a lot. We buy special ugly underwear to wear during our periods because there's a good chance that they will get stained with blood....and period blood does not wash out like other blood. If you get a cut and you get blood on your shirt or pants, you can rinse it and it will come out....period blood stays forever. Listen, this may sound gross and graphic, but it's true. You often wear dark pants, just in case, and skirts and dresses are worn with extreme caution. Pants with stretchy waistbands are a savior, because you're bloated to the size of a whale. Your uterus swells, which not only hurts itself, but the swelling presses on other organs, like your bladder...meaning you have to pee all the time. Also, it puts pressure on the lower back, so you just hurt and ache like crazy. The uterus is shedding it's built up layer...so to slough it off and out, it's contracting and expanding to force it out....and you feel it. Sometimes I have to actually look down at my abdomen to reassure myself that I haven't actually been stabbed because the pains are so sharp and severe. The hormones will often also cause pH imbalances, meaning you may get a yeast infection, acne, greasier hair, increased hair growth....so we are feeling ugly inside and out.
So if your woman doesn't want to go out on a night because she's on her period...cut her some slack. I don't think most guys would want to hit the bar if their penis was oozing and they felt like their innards were trying to escape from their body. Graphic, yes; real, yes. Also, next time you want to make a 'maybe she's on her period joke'...yeah, I want you to graphically picture everything I described before you say that...cause you're a d*ck.
So to all my ladies out there in black sweatpants, scarfing down chocolate and clutching the hot water bottle to their tummies....I salute you, because we're in this together.
Alright, let's start with the obvious. Periods. There- that just got rid of a whole ton of male readers (as if I have readers) unless they are over the age of 30 and have been married long enough that it's as much as part of their life as oil changes and taking the garbage out.
Periods are something women have to deal with for 30-40 years of their life...every single month (except during pregnancy) and they are a simply biological process and completely natural. They are also lifelong hell curses sent by Satan himself. Seriously, the reward for not getting knocked up every month is to bleed out of your crotch for 5 days and feel like a whale who has been harpooned and left for dead?
Emotionally we're on a roller coaster we have zero control over where one second you're screaming at a kitten, the next you want to cry because you dropped your pen. It's especially bad during your teenage years, your hormones are already going crazy enough, then you through the period monkey wrench in there and watch out- you've got a walking grenade that can go at any second for no reason. I remember once screaming and whipping a fork at my brother's head because he jokingly took it from me in the kitchen one day...I still remember the look of terror on my entire family's face as I did it. I didn't mean to react that way, I certainly didn't mean to hurt him...but at that moment, I was so blinded with hormonal rage that I just....kablammo. As we age, our hormones change, so that means how we are during pre-menstrual and menstrual times change- some of us mellow out a bit more, some people get more unpredictably emotional, it's different for everyone...and we have no more warning than anyone else. Maybe one month you are just horrendously sad about everything- everything makes you cry (like the time I sobbed at a Muppet movie I'd seen a hundred times before), but maybe the next month everything makes you unreasonably aroused (like...you're siting at your desk and your mind just keeps wandering to the most 50 Shades-ish type fantasies for no reason). Men tend to think that women are so cranky and emotional around their periods just because they're upset or frustrated with having to have a period...nope, that pretty much has nothing to do with it. Our emotions get hijacked by some little red goblin in our brains and they hit the button 'random'...the same little goblin who gives teenage boys unexpected erections and drives their brain to think about sex and boobs....that little jerk goblin takes over our emotions.
Physically, good god. So, first of all, we bleed. Some only bleed a little bit...I call these women b*tches. I had friends growing up who only ever had light little periods and were more like those annoying women in the tampon commercials who only wear white and ride horses on the beach while on their periods. Most of us are not that lucky. Some of us full on bleed- like, a lot. We buy special ugly underwear to wear during our periods because there's a good chance that they will get stained with blood....and period blood does not wash out like other blood. If you get a cut and you get blood on your shirt or pants, you can rinse it and it will come out....period blood stays forever. Listen, this may sound gross and graphic, but it's true. You often wear dark pants, just in case, and skirts and dresses are worn with extreme caution. Pants with stretchy waistbands are a savior, because you're bloated to the size of a whale. Your uterus swells, which not only hurts itself, but the swelling presses on other organs, like your bladder...meaning you have to pee all the time. Also, it puts pressure on the lower back, so you just hurt and ache like crazy. The uterus is shedding it's built up layer...so to slough it off and out, it's contracting and expanding to force it out....and you feel it. Sometimes I have to actually look down at my abdomen to reassure myself that I haven't actually been stabbed because the pains are so sharp and severe. The hormones will often also cause pH imbalances, meaning you may get a yeast infection, acne, greasier hair, increased hair growth....so we are feeling ugly inside and out.
So if your woman doesn't want to go out on a night because she's on her period...cut her some slack. I don't think most guys would want to hit the bar if their penis was oozing and they felt like their innards were trying to escape from their body. Graphic, yes; real, yes. Also, next time you want to make a 'maybe she's on her period joke'...yeah, I want you to graphically picture everything I described before you say that...cause you're a d*ck.
So to all my ladies out there in black sweatpants, scarfing down chocolate and clutching the hot water bottle to their tummies....I salute you, because we're in this together.
Tuesday, 9 June 2015
For the "I am not a feminist" people out there
"I am not a feminist"....you're right...because what you are...is a moron.
This backlash of "I am not a feminist" celebrities coming out declaring themselves as non-feminists is one small step into the pile of sh*t and one giant leap backwards for society. It seems Kaley Cuoco has spent too much time playing a dumb blonde as she seems to be perpetually stuck on dumbass, so shocked that people weren't all on-side with her declaring herself not a feminist.
The term feminist developed a sullied meaning over time, much like other words and symbols that have very specific and powerful meanings, it's been blurred by incorrect interpretations and people associating them with what people who are against the idea attach to it. The word feminist was misconstrued by people who were anti-feminism to mean things like 'man hater', 'bitter', 'ugly', etc. If you spend more than 0.003 seconds thinking about it, then you remember that the word is simply 'femina' and 'ism'....the belief in women. not OF women...IN women. Look the word up in any dictionary and show me where it says that they are bitter bitches who hate men and want to rule over everything. It doesn't. That's not what it means, it's only what people who don't believe in women's rights want you to think it means.
The movement against women has no valid reasoned argument against why women should not be equal- they simply don't want to lose their power. So, without a real platform of fact and reason to stand on, they do what all villains do- they aim to cause dissension in the opposing force. They won't have to worry about fighting the threat to their manhood if women are fighting amongst themselves. It's the same mentality that caused tension when women wanted the vote- there was a campaign by women against women getting the vote because they were told that they would ruin it for everyone.
If you believe that women should be paid less for the same work, should have to fight twice as hard to win the same battles, shouldn't be represented equally in law, in society, in media and in life...then you are not a feminist. However, if you do believe in any of the aforementioned ideals...you are a feminist. Maybe you're not militant and marching in protests and signing petitions...burning bras or boycotting shaving your legs..but you're a feminist.
Embrace it. Don't let the women haters take the power out of the word feminist. Don't let them make it a dirty word. If you bend to the notions they want you to have, then they've succeeded in pushing back the fight for equality.
This backlash of "I am not a feminist" celebrities coming out declaring themselves as non-feminists is one small step into the pile of sh*t and one giant leap backwards for society. It seems Kaley Cuoco has spent too much time playing a dumb blonde as she seems to be perpetually stuck on dumbass, so shocked that people weren't all on-side with her declaring herself not a feminist.
The term feminist developed a sullied meaning over time, much like other words and symbols that have very specific and powerful meanings, it's been blurred by incorrect interpretations and people associating them with what people who are against the idea attach to it. The word feminist was misconstrued by people who were anti-feminism to mean things like 'man hater', 'bitter', 'ugly', etc. If you spend more than 0.003 seconds thinking about it, then you remember that the word is simply 'femina' and 'ism'....the belief in women. not OF women...IN women. Look the word up in any dictionary and show me where it says that they are bitter bitches who hate men and want to rule over everything. It doesn't. That's not what it means, it's only what people who don't believe in women's rights want you to think it means.
The movement against women has no valid reasoned argument against why women should not be equal- they simply don't want to lose their power. So, without a real platform of fact and reason to stand on, they do what all villains do- they aim to cause dissension in the opposing force. They won't have to worry about fighting the threat to their manhood if women are fighting amongst themselves. It's the same mentality that caused tension when women wanted the vote- there was a campaign by women against women getting the vote because they were told that they would ruin it for everyone.
If you believe that women should be paid less for the same work, should have to fight twice as hard to win the same battles, shouldn't be represented equally in law, in society, in media and in life...then you are not a feminist. However, if you do believe in any of the aforementioned ideals...you are a feminist. Maybe you're not militant and marching in protests and signing petitions...burning bras or boycotting shaving your legs..but you're a feminist.
Embrace it. Don't let the women haters take the power out of the word feminist. Don't let them make it a dirty word. If you bend to the notions they want you to have, then they've succeeded in pushing back the fight for equality.
And if you think for one second that a man can't be a feminist, then you're wrong. Men are as important to the cause as women. It's not weakness, it's not 'gay', it's not being 'whipped'..it's just being a person who believes that another person deserves to be treated as they would want to be treated. Terry Crews is a proud feminist, I dare you to tell him that to his face he's a wimp for believing in women's right, I'll give you the number of my dentist and a good plastic surgeon when it's over.
I am a woman. I don't hate men. I have never burned my bras. I have never been on a protest march, written angry poetry or read Sylvia Plath. I am, however, a feminist.
Friday, 5 June 2015
Picking Up Chicks
I often hear from male single friends that it's very hard to hit on a woman because women are 'too stuck up'. There are many stories of good guys being turned down and not knowing where they went wrong when approaching a woman. I've been asked for advice from guys who don't seem to know why women are so reluctant to take a risk with a charming suitor.
It wasn't until the other day when it was actually a man who summed it up for me...these men tend to look at the situation from only their own point of view. These guys aren't seeing themselves as the woman is seeing them.
Guys, no matter your size, no matter your physical grandeur or lack thereof....the second you approach a woman for the first time you are a threat. When we are out in public, we have our guard up against potential threats to our persons, it's just instinct. The guard is lessened usually when we are in a place such as a bar or club as we are more likely to be open to meeting new people at those types of locations and there are pre-set parameters and social rules for it.
I don't care if you are 6'9, 400lbs of muscle or a 5'4 skinny wimp, the moment you approach me in public, my brain starts scanning you for potential threat. "What does he want?" "Does he have a visible weapon?" "What are my escape options if I am in danger?"....these are the first things that run through our head, so just be aware that that is where you are starting from. Don't be put off that she isn't immediately smiling and curious about your charms...she's scanning you to see if you're about to stab her and if you're showing any freaky tendencies.
51% of Canadian women have been physically or sexually assaulted at some point in their life. Do you really think we can afford to just assume you won't be that guy? 98% of sexual violence is committed by men in this country, so yes, it's different for us if a random man approaches us versus another woman. Most women know their assailant prior to the assault, which means that chances are it was someone we thought we knew and/or could trust, so if that happened to us by someone we knew, maybe we are going to be a bit wary of someone we don't know.
I'm not saying don't hit on women or never approach women. What I am saying is realize what is happening in her mind when you're approaching her. Don't think it's her fault and that she's a snob because she didn't want to give you her personal information on approach. You're taking a risk being rejected but she's viewing it as risking her personal safety.
Also, on a less sinister note....don't hit on waitresses, baristas or anyone who is at their place of work. They are working, be respectful. They're nice to you because they are paid to be nice to you. They aren't flirting with you, they are hoping you will just be a good customer and then get on with their day.
The case that brought this up was my boyfriend told me about the radio show he listens to. The female DJ received an email from a listener she's never met asking her on a date. The email was supposedly funny and charming, but she declined him. The two male DJs couldn't understand why she wouldn't give this guy a chance. She explained that not only is this man a complete stranger, but that, as a public figure, she has had problems with threats against her and has had stalkers. The male DJs still thought she was too uptight. The more I think about it, the angrier it made me. If she says no, she's an uptight bitch. If she says yes and she's assaulted, then she was too eager and she should've known better than to go out with some guy she's never met.
All I'm saying is that, as a woman, I wish more men would understand the dynamic of approaching a stranger in public. Even if your intentions are pure and good, just think about how the other person is observing the situation.
It wasn't until the other day when it was actually a man who summed it up for me...these men tend to look at the situation from only their own point of view. These guys aren't seeing themselves as the woman is seeing them.
Guys, no matter your size, no matter your physical grandeur or lack thereof....the second you approach a woman for the first time you are a threat. When we are out in public, we have our guard up against potential threats to our persons, it's just instinct. The guard is lessened usually when we are in a place such as a bar or club as we are more likely to be open to meeting new people at those types of locations and there are pre-set parameters and social rules for it.
I don't care if you are 6'9, 400lbs of muscle or a 5'4 skinny wimp, the moment you approach me in public, my brain starts scanning you for potential threat. "What does he want?" "Does he have a visible weapon?" "What are my escape options if I am in danger?"....these are the first things that run through our head, so just be aware that that is where you are starting from. Don't be put off that she isn't immediately smiling and curious about your charms...she's scanning you to see if you're about to stab her and if you're showing any freaky tendencies.
51% of Canadian women have been physically or sexually assaulted at some point in their life. Do you really think we can afford to just assume you won't be that guy? 98% of sexual violence is committed by men in this country, so yes, it's different for us if a random man approaches us versus another woman. Most women know their assailant prior to the assault, which means that chances are it was someone we thought we knew and/or could trust, so if that happened to us by someone we knew, maybe we are going to be a bit wary of someone we don't know.
I'm not saying don't hit on women or never approach women. What I am saying is realize what is happening in her mind when you're approaching her. Don't think it's her fault and that she's a snob because she didn't want to give you her personal information on approach. You're taking a risk being rejected but she's viewing it as risking her personal safety.
Also, on a less sinister note....don't hit on waitresses, baristas or anyone who is at their place of work. They are working, be respectful. They're nice to you because they are paid to be nice to you. They aren't flirting with you, they are hoping you will just be a good customer and then get on with their day.
The case that brought this up was my boyfriend told me about the radio show he listens to. The female DJ received an email from a listener she's never met asking her on a date. The email was supposedly funny and charming, but she declined him. The two male DJs couldn't understand why she wouldn't give this guy a chance. She explained that not only is this man a complete stranger, but that, as a public figure, she has had problems with threats against her and has had stalkers. The male DJs still thought she was too uptight. The more I think about it, the angrier it made me. If she says no, she's an uptight bitch. If she says yes and she's assaulted, then she was too eager and she should've known better than to go out with some guy she's never met.
All I'm saying is that, as a woman, I wish more men would understand the dynamic of approaching a stranger in public. Even if your intentions are pure and good, just think about how the other person is observing the situation.
Friday, 22 May 2015
Bad responses to pregnancy announcements
A lot of my friends are having babies...surprisingly most of them are doing it on purpose. I am not ready for this next step in life...and I think it's showing in my responses when people are telling me that they are expecting a baby. Here, my friends, is a list of things that you shouldn't say when someone tells you that they are pregnant:
- Why?
- I'm sorry to hear that
- Whose is it?
- You're not going to name it something stupid like your parents did right?
- I hope it looks like your sister
- I thought you'd just gotten fatter
- Dibs!
- hahahahahahahaha!
- What if it's ugly?
- I'll still be your favourite though, right?
- So I guess you won't be drinking that bottle of wine I got you for your birthday...can I have it back?
- I hear pregnancy affects your sex life...how old is your husband's secretary?
- Lame!
- I didn't think you could get pregnant after all those scares in freshman year....
- Fine, but when you come over, the baby stays in the car
- Bet it's gonna be trippy finally feeling something come out of there for once
- Keepin it?
- By the time they're old enough to have kids of their own, humans will have killed the planet
- You're raising it Klingon right?
- Say goodbye to your good looks!
So....this may be why I don't get invited to a lot of baby showers...or because I got drunk and ordered strippers at the last one...
Either way...
- Why?
- I'm sorry to hear that
- Whose is it?
- You're not going to name it something stupid like your parents did right?
- I hope it looks like your sister
- I thought you'd just gotten fatter
- Dibs!
- hahahahahahahaha!
- What if it's ugly?
- I'll still be your favourite though, right?
- So I guess you won't be drinking that bottle of wine I got you for your birthday...can I have it back?
- I hear pregnancy affects your sex life...how old is your husband's secretary?
- Lame!
- I didn't think you could get pregnant after all those scares in freshman year....
- Fine, but when you come over, the baby stays in the car
- Bet it's gonna be trippy finally feeling something come out of there for once
- Keepin it?
- By the time they're old enough to have kids of their own, humans will have killed the planet
- You're raising it Klingon right?
- Say goodbye to your good looks!
So....this may be why I don't get invited to a lot of baby showers...or because I got drunk and ordered strippers at the last one...
Either way...
Wednesday, 8 April 2015
It's a chick thing...
While our modern society strives for gender equality, there are some gender divides that we may never close eg. a man will not get to breast feed a baby and women will still have to use plastic devices in order to pee standing up.
Here are a few things I believe than men will never truly understand:
- The joy of taking your bra off at the end of the day
- What a real 'bad hair day' is
- Cramps
- Crying about being fat while simultaneously eating a bag of chips
- Guilt
- The need for more than 2 pairs of shoes
- What the wings on pads are for
- Crying and laughing at the same time
- Why there is always one b*tch in the office
- Purses
- Why we keep everything in the world in those purses
- Why we keep everything in the world in those purses
- Why women in their early 20's date a**holes
- Flowers
- How truly aggravating pantyhose is
- Our relationships with our mothers
- Dancing like idiots with your best friend to bad music
- Different kinds of lotion
- Over-sized sweaters
- The importance of pedicures
- How bad your feet hurt in heels and the supreme joy when you take them off
- The cringe-worth effect when the doctor says 'Scooch down' during your annual physical
- Being able to text your bff all day every day and still have loads to chat about when you see them
- Having a good cry
- Societal pressure to want kids
- The awkwardness of getting a bra fitting
- Why we make funny faces when applying makeup
- We would almost all prefer chocolate to men
- Over-sized sweaters
- The importance of pedicures
- How bad your feet hurt in heels and the supreme joy when you take them off
- The cringe-worth effect when the doctor says 'Scooch down' during your annual physical
- Being able to text your bff all day every day and still have loads to chat about when you see them
- Having a good cry
- Societal pressure to want kids
- The awkwardness of getting a bra fitting
- Why we make funny faces when applying makeup
- We would almost all prefer chocolate to men
Wednesday, 25 March 2015
A story about boobs
Boobs. Breasts. Tits. Jugs. Tatty BoJangles.
Babies need them, men lust after them, women are never happy with them.
I remember being about 11 years old, puberty hadn't come for a visit just yet and I was tall but still had a kid's build. I was sitting with a friend lamenting that the boys (who were all about 13-14) would never notice me because they were always looking at the older girls with boobs. I told my friend that I wished I had big boobs because maybe then I would be liked by the boys.
Holy Christ, be careful what you wish for.
One year later, I wasn't even finished grade 6, 12 years old and sporting C-cup boobs that showed no signs of slowing their growth. I was already starting to get a sore upper back from carrying those things around on a 12 year old frame.
And just like a a pimple on prom night, they kept growing and growing.
By age 14 I was often being mistaken for 19 and 20 years old and it certainly wasn't because of my knowledge of classic literature and my mature demeanor. Men twice my age and many more who were blatantly old enough to be my father would whistle, stare, make cat calls or try a cheesy pick up line. Most of them ran away in horror when I would tell them I wasn't even close to being of legal age to vote let alone for what they had in mind. Being a teenager is awkward enough, let alone suddenly getting attention that you know isn't genuine. I had no idea how to deal with it. Girls would trash me and call me a slut because I had big boobs even though I had barely even kissed a guy at 14. Guys would assume I was easy because I had boobs even though I was actually quite terrified of sex at that age. I had no other identity...I wasn't funny, I wasn't smart, I wasn't nice, I wasn't anything...I was a pair of breasts. So, eventually I tried to 'own it' and took to low-cut shirts, making jokes about it, making (bad) attempts to be flirty....because I had resigned myself to the fact that it seemed they were all I had to offer. Yet, I stayed a virgin and rarely even kissed the guys I flirted with...because as much as I tried to 'own it'...I resented the fact that they just liked me for one reason.
I couldn't wear the cute shirts, dresses, swimsuits that other girls my age were wearing because they either looked ridiculous, didn't come in my size or looked like something out of a bad porn. Forget training bras, by high school I was having to buy bras at special boutiques for $100 a pop. I walked around with hunched shoulders and back pain. I wore a lot of baggy hoodies, hockey jerseys and my brother's old shirts, thinking that maybe I could hide them.
Then a miracle occurred. I was at a muscle rehab session for my bad neck and shoulders from years of bad posture from lugging what were now enormous sacks of flesh around on my frontage for years. The insanely cute doctor had me do a few stretches to see where my bad muscles were and told me that it was the front weight that was hurting me...and he asked me if I'd ever considered a breast reduction. What?? They do that? I called my mother over and she, having been a nurse, asked him the smart questions such as long term effects, scarring, healing, etc. All I asked was..."How soon can it be done??"
And so it came to be. I remember very clearly standing in the little pre-op room while the surgeon asked me to take down my gown so he could make some markings on my breasts for the surgery...I had trouble not being a little offended that he in no way reacted when I got topless. I was 19 years old, I had not shown a lot of men my boobs before, but I was certainly not used to a man being bored and professional about them. He asked me what size I wanted to go down to...I said that I didn't care if they went concave, just get them off of me. He chuckled. They had told me to bring one of my bras without the under-wire so that they would use it to help keep the gauze and bandages in place for a few days after surgery, so when I left the hospital, I didn't feel any smaller or different. My mother was my at-home nurse so when the time to remove the bandages came, she helped me undo the bra, and slowly peel the bandages off me. The doctor had warned me that I would be sore, badly bruised and that I would have lumpy boobs at first...because they would need to re-settle into their new natural shape over time. I looked down and they looked so small...and man were they lumpy...it was like looking at two half eaten bruised potatoes on my chest. I was horrified (and hugely drugged) and thought I'd made a huge mistake...I was so used to being the girl with the big boobs...I felt like I'd lost part of my identity.
I was uneasy for days, wondering if I'd done the right thing. I didn't have my real answer until my mother brought me new bra shopping at La Senza. It was my first time there in ages, I hadn't fit into off-the-rack bras in years. I hadn't gotten to wear the 2 for $20 cute lacy bras that young girls love...I was trying to shove my mountainous burdens into what felt like harnesses discarded from military missions. I walked into the brightly coloured bra boutique and literally skipped around grabbing one of every colour to try on. I put on the first bra and threw my t-shirt over it and looked at myself. All doubt was gone...I felt awesome. I felt normal. I felt like a hunchback who had had the hump removed...just...in the front. The Hunchfront of North Toronto...not quite as catchy.
A weight had been both literally and figuratively lifted from me, I felt like I didn't have to be defined by my shape anymore. It was only at that time that I really started dating at all, I had never previously trusted guys that they didn't just like me for my....plumage. A few guys who had always been so nice suddenly weren't very nice to me anymore. I didn't mourn their loss any more than the loss of the searing shoulder pain I'd gotten rid of.
I did not have small breasts after the surgery, but I had breasts that did not enter the room 2 feet before the rest of me. I was more social and willing to talk to people after that, I felt much less awkward about having any attention drawn to me. I met a surprising number of girls who had had the surgery as well or who were considering it and we all agreed that big boobs were more of a curse than a blessing and that getting them reduced was a saving grace.
I still have a full frontage...they fluctuate with my ever trampolining weight on the scale. I still sometimes have trouble finding a decent fit but I can still walk into stores and find something that will fit. The only things that are still a no-go are button up shirts (any girl with C-Cups or over knows the eternal struggle with the button boob gap) and anything strapless...because I don't need them bouncing of my knees or injuring a small passing child. I am comfortable in my frame, I don't feel the need to hide away as if I'm on day-release from the circus, but I am also comfortable enough with myself to not have to walk around with the girls hanging out for all to see. At this age, I'd rather dazzle you with my wit than show you a tit.
I could say a ton more about the subject of boobs, I fancy myself, not an expert but...experienced. I am not even really trying to make a specific point with this story...other than perhaps showing that everyone is insecure about something and that getting what you wish for isn't always a good thing. I still always wish I was skinnier, but then I wonder what I'd be unhappy about if I were to achieve that. Big boobs, small boobs, women are rarely happy with them..and if they are, they're probably unhappy about some other part of themselves. Just don't make assumptions about someone because of how they look. Deal?
Babies need them, men lust after them, women are never happy with them.
I remember being about 11 years old, puberty hadn't come for a visit just yet and I was tall but still had a kid's build. I was sitting with a friend lamenting that the boys (who were all about 13-14) would never notice me because they were always looking at the older girls with boobs. I told my friend that I wished I had big boobs because maybe then I would be liked by the boys.
Holy Christ, be careful what you wish for.
One year later, I wasn't even finished grade 6, 12 years old and sporting C-cup boobs that showed no signs of slowing their growth. I was already starting to get a sore upper back from carrying those things around on a 12 year old frame.
And just like a a pimple on prom night, they kept growing and growing.
By age 14 I was often being mistaken for 19 and 20 years old and it certainly wasn't because of my knowledge of classic literature and my mature demeanor. Men twice my age and many more who were blatantly old enough to be my father would whistle, stare, make cat calls or try a cheesy pick up line. Most of them ran away in horror when I would tell them I wasn't even close to being of legal age to vote let alone for what they had in mind. Being a teenager is awkward enough, let alone suddenly getting attention that you know isn't genuine. I had no idea how to deal with it. Girls would trash me and call me a slut because I had big boobs even though I had barely even kissed a guy at 14. Guys would assume I was easy because I had boobs even though I was actually quite terrified of sex at that age. I had no other identity...I wasn't funny, I wasn't smart, I wasn't nice, I wasn't anything...I was a pair of breasts. So, eventually I tried to 'own it' and took to low-cut shirts, making jokes about it, making (bad) attempts to be flirty....because I had resigned myself to the fact that it seemed they were all I had to offer. Yet, I stayed a virgin and rarely even kissed the guys I flirted with...because as much as I tried to 'own it'...I resented the fact that they just liked me for one reason.
I couldn't wear the cute shirts, dresses, swimsuits that other girls my age were wearing because they either looked ridiculous, didn't come in my size or looked like something out of a bad porn. Forget training bras, by high school I was having to buy bras at special boutiques for $100 a pop. I walked around with hunched shoulders and back pain. I wore a lot of baggy hoodies, hockey jerseys and my brother's old shirts, thinking that maybe I could hide them.
Then a miracle occurred. I was at a muscle rehab session for my bad neck and shoulders from years of bad posture from lugging what were now enormous sacks of flesh around on my frontage for years. The insanely cute doctor had me do a few stretches to see where my bad muscles were and told me that it was the front weight that was hurting me...and he asked me if I'd ever considered a breast reduction. What?? They do that? I called my mother over and she, having been a nurse, asked him the smart questions such as long term effects, scarring, healing, etc. All I asked was..."How soon can it be done??"
And so it came to be. I remember very clearly standing in the little pre-op room while the surgeon asked me to take down my gown so he could make some markings on my breasts for the surgery...I had trouble not being a little offended that he in no way reacted when I got topless. I was 19 years old, I had not shown a lot of men my boobs before, but I was certainly not used to a man being bored and professional about them. He asked me what size I wanted to go down to...I said that I didn't care if they went concave, just get them off of me. He chuckled. They had told me to bring one of my bras without the under-wire so that they would use it to help keep the gauze and bandages in place for a few days after surgery, so when I left the hospital, I didn't feel any smaller or different. My mother was my at-home nurse so when the time to remove the bandages came, she helped me undo the bra, and slowly peel the bandages off me. The doctor had warned me that I would be sore, badly bruised and that I would have lumpy boobs at first...because they would need to re-settle into their new natural shape over time. I looked down and they looked so small...and man were they lumpy...it was like looking at two half eaten bruised potatoes on my chest. I was horrified (and hugely drugged) and thought I'd made a huge mistake...I was so used to being the girl with the big boobs...I felt like I'd lost part of my identity.
I was uneasy for days, wondering if I'd done the right thing. I didn't have my real answer until my mother brought me new bra shopping at La Senza. It was my first time there in ages, I hadn't fit into off-the-rack bras in years. I hadn't gotten to wear the 2 for $20 cute lacy bras that young girls love...I was trying to shove my mountainous burdens into what felt like harnesses discarded from military missions. I walked into the brightly coloured bra boutique and literally skipped around grabbing one of every colour to try on. I put on the first bra and threw my t-shirt over it and looked at myself. All doubt was gone...I felt awesome. I felt normal. I felt like a hunchback who had had the hump removed...just...in the front. The Hunchfront of North Toronto...not quite as catchy.
A weight had been both literally and figuratively lifted from me, I felt like I didn't have to be defined by my shape anymore. It was only at that time that I really started dating at all, I had never previously trusted guys that they didn't just like me for my....plumage. A few guys who had always been so nice suddenly weren't very nice to me anymore. I didn't mourn their loss any more than the loss of the searing shoulder pain I'd gotten rid of.
I did not have small breasts after the surgery, but I had breasts that did not enter the room 2 feet before the rest of me. I was more social and willing to talk to people after that, I felt much less awkward about having any attention drawn to me. I met a surprising number of girls who had had the surgery as well or who were considering it and we all agreed that big boobs were more of a curse than a blessing and that getting them reduced was a saving grace.
I still have a full frontage...they fluctuate with my ever trampolining weight on the scale. I still sometimes have trouble finding a decent fit but I can still walk into stores and find something that will fit. The only things that are still a no-go are button up shirts (any girl with C-Cups or over knows the eternal struggle with the button boob gap) and anything strapless...because I don't need them bouncing of my knees or injuring a small passing child. I am comfortable in my frame, I don't feel the need to hide away as if I'm on day-release from the circus, but I am also comfortable enough with myself to not have to walk around with the girls hanging out for all to see. At this age, I'd rather dazzle you with my wit than show you a tit.
I could say a ton more about the subject of boobs, I fancy myself, not an expert but...experienced. I am not even really trying to make a specific point with this story...other than perhaps showing that everyone is insecure about something and that getting what you wish for isn't always a good thing. I still always wish I was skinnier, but then I wonder what I'd be unhappy about if I were to achieve that. Big boobs, small boobs, women are rarely happy with them..and if they are, they're probably unhappy about some other part of themselves. Just don't make assumptions about someone because of how they look. Deal?
Tuesday, 11 February 2014
Women Aren't Funny
It's the same thing we've always heard, 'women just aren't funny.'
Why not?
During my adolescence, I was...let's just say...more awkward than a republican at a rap concert. I was taller than all the boys, overweight, massively insecure and desperate for people to like me. Not so surprisingly, I didn't have tons of friends in my middle school years. It wasn't until, hanging out with two girls that I knew only casually, that I found what worked for me...one of them, laughing at a joke I'd told (which I'd stolen from my dad), said 'You're funny! We need you around more!' Bingo. If I couldn't be pretty, if I couldn't be athletic, if I couldn't be popular or cool...I could be funny.
As I grew up I tried honing my craft, forming my own niche of comedy; a mixture of eye-rolling puns and incessant and often cruel self-deprecation and the the laughs started to come in. I looked up to stand-up comedians and comedy actors as my role models, envying the attention they got and how people thought they were just so cool and how everyone wished that they could hang out with those people...and I wanted to be 'that person.'
Many times I've heard the phrase 'You should do stand up' or 'You need your own show' and I thought maybe I would give it a try some day...but yet, there was always a voice in the crowd that persisted with 'women aren't funny.'
It eventually dawned on me that 95% of the comedians I'd grown up idolizing were men...that funny women were 'alright', but there were very few that really made me laugh out loud. Even many of the classic funny women worked with a straight man in their comedy to even out the dynamic (Gracie Allen, Lucille Ball, Joan Rivers on Carson etc.) Truly funny (solo) female standup comedians proved such a rare breed that maybe what I had always aspired to isn't possible, maybe women lack the ability to truly be funny.
No, because women ARE funny, women are hilarious...there are just...some added...issues.
To find a person funny and share a laugh with someone requires a certain level of understanding with that person; you need to be able to identify what level they are on and establish a report. For example, is the comedian an average guy like you, is it a person putting on a shtick as though they are poor and stupid, making you their 'better' in the scenario, or are they perhaps the 'I think I'm better than you' type? This report establishes the basis for the comedy, ground level; it sets up the type of humour, what you can/cannot laugh at, what you're going to relate to, what the subject matter is going to be etc. Here's where the problem starts for women. No matter which of these humour types or personae taken on by a woman, the main trait that will always take precedence is still 'woman', which hinders the ability to establish that base connection necessary for comedy because you aren't focused on the type of connection, you're focused on the fact that it's a female first and foremost.
We live in a society with a lot of preconceived notions as to what it is to be a 'woman' and are constantly presented with images and media that reinforce these ideas. Have you ever notices that Old Spice has fun, clever commercials for men with their horseback riding, puppy holding super man, but that no fun commercials exist that are geared for women? The media presents to us that being a woman means being 'feminine, pretty, intelligent, busy, strong, blah blah blah' When is the last time you saw a woman in a commercial in sweatpants, eating nachos and doing something stupid? Women in the media are just not allowed to be average, lazy, dumb or frankly, real. I believe that this occurs for two main reasons; firstly, that these companies need women to keep hating themselves and aspiring to be 'better' so that they will buy their products to try to live up to the goal of 'super woman' they've created; if we accept that we just can sit in our underwear and each junk food, we won't buy as much of their crap. The second is that it's become socially unacceptable to make fun of women, even if it's lightheartedly. This is largely women's own fault (don't jump down my throat women's libbers). Women had to fight hard for everything we have gained in society given that we couldn't even vote at the turn of the 1900's. The hard fight included fighting against a lot of jokes that were mean in spirit against women, degradation and humiliation as well. Unfortunately, in the aftermath of this fight, it has come to the point where it's not ok to make fun of women, of their issues, of their struggles or of what makes them both unique and similar to men without the 'sexism' issue being raised by someone. So, until the sexism police learn to calm their tits a bit and accept that if it's ok to laugh at men's foibles, then it's ok to laugh at women's...then that wall of awkwardness will continue to persist. If you think it's untrue, look at any man in the room when a woman cracks a joke about anything 'risqué' or just about being a woman...he will only laugh after scanning the audience and making sure it's ok to do so.
Female stand up comedians also did themselves no favours when the genre started to take off in the 80's by making almost all female standup comedy about being a female. Great, nothing quite like alienating half the possible audience right off the bat. The most successful male comedians don't spend their whole acts talking about what it's like having a penis and the hardships of men...but yet so many female comedians focused their comedy on being a woman, life as a woman, how women are different etc. Yes, this was a time when such topics were important in society and it was great for women to get their issues out there...but don't come crying to the media when guys aren't busting a gut laughing at comedy that in no way speaks to them. When I think of my favourite male comedians, their routines that stand out in my mind have to do with family, life, work, kids, every day annoyances...things that any person on the street can relate to. When focusing their routines on life 'as a woman' instead of just life, female comedians failed to establish that basic connection with the men in the audience.
There is also one factor that I cannot fail to mention that most women will agree with and most men disagree with, which is that many men are intimidated by a funny woman. Being funny requires a certain level of intelligence, no matter the type of humour; it takes timing, observation, situational awareness, a sharp wit and a knowledge of subject matter and language. Any person who can be 'on' consistently enough to be considered 'funny', especially to such an extent as to do so professionally, is definitely intelligent in some way (unless you are Kevin James in which you are just loud and enjoy falling down a lot). While society develops and women continue to achieve higher equality, men are becoming less intimidated by strong, smart women; but, there are still those who are lagging behind on the evolutionary scale and don't like the idea that they're not as smart, quick witted, charming or funny as a woman. I suggest that these people to join the twenty-first century and grow a pair.
My last point as to why it may be said that women are not funny is simply that men and women do have some obvious differences in what they find funny. There is a reason that most women cannot sit through an afternoon of reruns of the Three Stooges...we just do not find them funny! Gross out comedy like Jackass and fart jokes (or anything with Kevin James) just doesn't appeal to women. I can't even fully justify why this is, it's just not funny to us, maybe some of it is a woman's nurturing instinct...when we see someone fall down, we want to help, not laugh and when someone craps their pants, it's usually us who has to clean it up.
I think women are funny. I think women are getting funnier and funnier. I wish I was as funny (as sexy) as Tina Fey. I do, however, think there are still barriers we need to break down to really be funny as a gender, and I think we will get there. Women standup comedians weren't even really featured on television until the mid 1980's, decades after the first men, so we have a some catching up to do. So, to people like Adam Carolla who think women can't be funny, I invite them all to sit down, relax and to enjoy the show.
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