I couldn’t help it. As the Summer Olympics went on day after day in China, I saw elite female athletes excel in their chosen sport and noticed that they all had one thing in common. No, make that two things. No, make that the lack of two things – boobs.
It’s not that I was looking for them or at them, it’s just that it was hard for me not to notice that in their skimpy spandex competition finery these women had little to no boobs. So, I wondered. If you are predisposed to have boobs, like if you are genetically supposed to have boobs, would they not grow because you are an elite athlete who trains so hard that all adipose tissue, lobes, and lobules that make up breast tissue turn into muscle? Or, is it that women who are born with boobs the size of molehills choose to train to become elite athletes because they know they’ll be able to fly higher, run faster, and leap tall buildings in a single bra than those of us who have boobs of the mountain variety?
I got my answer about one week after the closing ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics. I happened to see Serena Williams whacking the stuffing (poor choice of words?) out of Ai Sugiyama of Japan during the U.S. Open and all the while she and her very prominent boobs bounced all over that tennis court. So, Serena is an elite athlete who was obviously destined to have boobs, and guess what? There they were.
And I’m sure they’re real. I mean I don’t think any female athlete would have breast augmentation in order to have bigger boobs. They’d just get in the way. How do I know this? Let’s just say I think I could have a much better golf swing if I didn’t have to account for my boobage when teeing off. Let’s also just say I’d be able to more accurately place my balls on the tennis court if I didn’t have to swing over or under the aforementioned boobage. Following through is hard to do when “the girls” are front and center. And they’re always front and center, unless I’m not wearing a bra. Then they’re just down and out.
This brings me to my next point(s): adventuresome boobs. And I think the best way to present this/these point(s) is via the following letter:
Dear The North Face,
Hi! I like to hike and explore as much as the next guy, but I can’t do so in the clothing you manufacture because apparently you think the adventuresome gal has no boobage.
I recently went into a local outdoorsy clothing store that sells The North Face and tried on every make, model, size and color of what can only be described as spandex PURGATORY. It was hard enough to wrangle myself into your shirts, but peeling them off was an entire ordeal unto itself.
After I successfully scraped myself out of one of your cool “baselayer” crew shirts with the thumb holes, (great idea, by the way. I’m glad I don’t have overly endowed thumbs so I can at least get THEM in and out of your clothes with ease) I felt as if I had just endured an extremely painful body exfoliation where the technician used large-grade sandpaper and a Brillo pad instead of a milder scrub made of baby oil and kitten fur.
And, while I’m at it:
Dear Tommy Bahama,
Please see the above letter to The North Face. Apparently you don’t believe girls with, um, large coconuts should be able to comfortably wear your Island Girl-type clothing. Girls with, um, small figs seem to be the only ones who can.
How can the active gal who likes to go a-wandering in all climates dress herself in style and comfort in the best brands for the job if the only way she can wear your clothing is with all circulation to her tatas cut off?
Just so you know, girls with above average Jewish breasts like to climb mountains, too, The North Face. By the way, the slogan on your website says, “Never Stop Exploring”. Yeah, right. I can’t even start! And, Tommy Bahama, we buxom girls also like to wear cute little beachy dresses. This all comes down to what can only be described as Boobation Discrimination.
I don’t want to be forced to order knock-off cross country ski-wear made by some company that could be called The Great White North Faces that will probably disintegrate when the temperature outside reaches 20 degrees F. I also don’t want to be forced to find some cute little matchy, matchy skirt and top ensem Tommy Bahama knock-off made by a company that could be called Tommy Bahama Mama that explodes after eighteen hours.
Get a clue… or two. I’d like to take my boobs wherever they want to go, but it’s becoming abundantly clear that you feel abundance is so, um, over the top. My boobs are here, there, and everywhere, and that’s just the way it is. And if I feel like taking them hiking, cross-country skiing, or to a nice restaurant in the summer, I’d like to know I have options besides stores like “Tents-R-Us”. I may not be slender by any means, but those types of stores allow room for your boobs and for the rest of an oversized body. Even their smallest sizes swim on me, but they do accommodate “the girls.” (I love a store where everything in it is TOO BIG on me!) It’s just not a flattering look when you walk into a restaurant looking like you’re wearing the tablecloth.
So, until you stores, The North Face and Tommy Bahama, realize the market you are missing out on, I’ll continue to try to find other clothing for the adventuresome gal with boobage. But I gotta tell you, if you don’t realize that girls with bodacious tatas would love to be able to wear your clothing comfortably, you’re just boobs.