I personally was briskly beaten by the cleavage fairy at 17 and went from a B to a D cup over the course of SIX WEEKS. Combine that with utter cluelessness (gee, you mean this cute little camp shirt that buttons up might show MORE boobies since my chest is 3" bigger? Gosh!) and the enormously (ha ha!) cheering effects of finally getting bras that fit so that I didn’t have to wear baggy shirts and hide, and I’m certain, in hindsight, that I was showing off way more than I intended on more than one occasion.
While I normally feel that commenting on someone’s body parts should be comparable in discretion to the display of said body parts, I don’t think teenagers should be held responsible for figuring out that their clothes have stopped fitting in the past six weeks and they’re now in danger of setting their boobage loose upon the world. Save the comments for a grown woman who knows what she’s doing with her puppies.
You’re supposed to burry your face between them, then press the breasts against either side of your head with your hands, quickly shake your head left and right, and go “bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-oo-bl-oo-bl-oo-bl-oo-bl”, for as long as you can.
Which probably means until Security drags you off her and hands you over to the authorities.
But that is the proper response to breasts being waved in front of your face. Period.
A friend of ours had had both her breasts removed due to cancer years ago and had ( I’m assuming) had strap on boobies after that. (actually, I should call her up and ask her about her boobs. She’s find that funny.)
All I know is when she would go to the bar with gal pals and occaisionally the bouncers would say something like, “If I can touch yer tits, I’ll let the lot of you in…”
She always volunteered for the gals to great amusement.
Boob jobs for increasing in teens is a bad idea.
Reduction of Large Tracts of Boobage is a good thing.
…You might as well ask why people get Tattoos, piercings or hair plugs or even dye their hair.
…It could be a matter of vanity, feeling better about one-self, to get ahead in business, (Big Boobs can equal job advancement in some fields, even fields where the shouldn’t), pressure from a boyfriend/husband, and probably a dozen more reasons that we could collectively think of.
…I am not a fan of huge breasts, in fact I prefer smallish firm ones, but there are a lot of males who think Big Boobs are the most attractive thing in the world. I have seen men go nuts for ugly and dumb women because of their fake D’s. I don’t get it but I have had friends who were blinded by D’s.
…Give me a cute face, an intelligent mind and nice legs and butt. Breast come in fairly low on the list.
It’s worse if they do let you in on the secret; a girl from the business next door announced that she was having her breasts enlarged in a couple of weeks’ time; she revealed this while we were all standing at the sandwich delivery van. I was the only male present and after they had all cooed and clucked, they all turned to me as if to solicit my opinion. Now my opinion happens to be that breasts never need enlarging, ever, but there’s no way I’m going to say that. It also happens that this young lady was already very nicely proportioned in any case, by any reasonable standard, but I’m not going to say that either.
It was a classic catch 22:
-Agree that a boob job was a great idea and paint myself as a perv who think the current set is too small, and is looking forward to ogling at them in their bigger form.
-Opine that they’re just fine as they are and paint myself as a perv who has already studied them in detail.
So I actually said very little- when pressed, I just said “Why are you telling me? what the hell am I supposed to say about this?”.
My discomfort was noted and it all became a bit of a running joke in the weeks leading up to the planned surgery; everyone, including - especially including - the girl herself would tease me - in a manner bordering on cruelty - asking me for my judgement on the matter. Ultimately, it just got too much and I blurted out “Look, if you really want my opinion on the subject, whip 'em out now and I’ll take a look, otherwise I think we’re done talking about it”.
There was the customary feigned horror at my apparent oversensitivity, etc, but the joke was over.
