Monday, September 13, 2010


a place to celebrate the beauty of the small bust & gush about the lingerie and clothes that scream, 'Can you handle me?' not 'Am I enough?'”

You know guys will blog about dumb stuff. There are gun blogs and car blogs and sports blogs. There are blogs about dogs and role playing games, and even blogs about clothes. But there's nothing men do compared to woman's attitude about their breasts. I cannot even begin to imagine a blog by guys about any part of their body, but there are blogs about boobs out there. Not porn blogs, not some guy who really likes breasts and posts pictures, not candid shots of tight sweaters, but women writing about breasts.

And not just any such blog, but specialty, boutique blogs. Take Small Bust, Big Heart; its all about having little breasts. Now, I wouldn't think there would be enough to write about the topic of A-Cup breasts, but this woman has been at it for almost a year now, and she's won awards and got mentioned in the New York Times.

Oh, and that Times article? About women with small breasts and how its a fashion trend to flaunt your teeny ones rather than try to hide them or build them up with padding. Catherine Saint Louis got almost 2000 words out of the topic. Its just baffling to guys, is it insecurity, is it just a crass attempt to market new fashions, is it a fixation on your body parts? I can understand men waxing rhapsodic about woman's bodies, but women doing so about themselves?

When it comes to cup size, personally I'm with George Thorogood:

I like them small
I like 'em tall
I like 'em all!

Meanwhile arch feminists are outraged at the Times for writing this article. But then, when aren't they outraged, upset, or angry?

1 comment:

Eric said...

The day I understood that a woman's appearance usually has much more to do with her relationship with other women than it does her relationship with any man in her life was a major breakthrough in my (still ever-so-limited) understanding of the opposite sex. I totally get women blogging about their boobs.

Now if somebody could just explain the "going to the bathroom in groups" thing to me. That, and the social taboo demanding I never, ever, ever, mention PMS even when it is the only possible explaination for your behavior. (i.e., the square-jawed lady who stoicly held her entire family together when her grandmother died, suddenly turns suicidal -or possibly homocidal- over a Pop-Tart that got slightly too burned in the toaster).