FREE RANGE

It seems I can't get off the subject of boobs. A recent article in the Halifax Chronicle Herald about the latest beauty implement called the "Kush" prompted this post.  The Kush,  an  "anatomically contoured"  cylindrical plastic pillow  invented in the U.S. by Cathinka Chandler who lives in Charlotte, N.C,  was designed to prevent large breasted women from developing a wrinkly  cleavage.  Chandler claims  there are now  20,000 users in the US and that the  "Kust"  is now "busting" out in Canada as well.

Used by  large-breasted women who sleep on their sides, the Kush works by  keeping a woman’s breasts separated while sleeping to prevent wrinkles caused by the pull of gravity on their breasts.

Customers range from girls that are having breast implants to moms wanting to buy them for their daughters because they already have cleavage wrinkles and they don’t want their daughters to get them too. Yup...just one more way to show your daughter how much you love her ...just hand over a plastic pillow and tell her that if she sleeps with it between her boobs for the rest of her life she will never have a wrinkled cleavage. It ranks right up there with allowing her to grow up with the delusion that there is a prince out there somewhere just waiting to fulfill her dreams of a "happily ever after."

But let's be honest here...our daughters deserve it. Just as there is no fairy tale "prince" ( men just won't shed their horny toadness ...I mean their warty frogness...even for a princess) a hunk of plastic is not going to prevent boobs from doing what boobs do...they head south. They get bigger as you age...throw in a couple of kids and a few extra pounds and you may as well pack a bag for the Caribbean  cause they're headed for lower hemispheres along with your ass and other unmentionables.  It's the law of gravity...blame Isak Newton for coming up with that one, and don't think for a minute that if you are small busted you will escape this phenomenon...remember sneaking peaks at  National Geographic  magazines at the back of the library when we were kids. Huh...huh...that's you in 30 - 50 years.

To prove my point, I did a full frontal booby check in the mirror ***warning do this only in the privacy of your home ...with door locked... and this is what I found:

...they are big

...they are heavy 

...and
... they hang

...but nary a cleavage wrinkle if sight!

It is not until I try to pick up my babies to stuff them into a steel, double reinforced support bra that the wrinkles appear.

Conclusion:

The real battle is not in keeping them separated, but in keeping them from falling, and short of duck taping them to your chin 24/7, it's a no win battle. But if you don't want to take any chances and you're up for a good fight, you can order your very own Kush (that and  a Barbie pipe dream too) at a an online lingerie shop called Candy and Lacy.

As for me...I already have enough preventive nightly rituals so when my wifely duties are done, it's...a couple squirts of Nasonex to prevent the "stuffies", slap on some  night cream to battle facial wrinkles, tuck a pillow between my knees to ward off hip pain, pop my bite plane in to keep me from grinding my teeth, and kiss my frog price goodnight...but my girls...they're sleeping "free range."

Nightie - night...don't let the bedbugs bite!

BODY BASHING - ELEMENTS OF SELF

Today's post for Elements Of Self - Least Favorite Body Part is done in jest.
Although there is always something for which I can find fault in myself,
I have for the most part accepted that,
to borrow a phase from Popeye,

"I is what I is!"

I am...imperfect

but

I am healthy

I am active

and

I am happy

all for which I am very grateful.

...but I can still body bash with the best of them

so

...lets take it from the top!

...drum roll please...

(I will keep my list limited to the "B's" in order to keep it short)

THE B'S OF BODY BASHING

The Beak

...too big

The Boobs
...too big

The hubby would argue
that these are my best feature
but he tends to think primarily with his "lower" mind
and he doesn't have to bra shop
nor
does he have to carry this rack around.
(did I mention that I'm pretty good at male bashing too?)

We'll just skip past the Belly rolls...all three of them.

And now for the grand finale...

The Butt!

Unlike Sam at Emerging Into Wholeness,
I do not have the courage to post a picture of my ass
wearing nothing but my undies.
That's one brave woman!

Join guest host Sam at Emerging Into Wholeness
for more Elements Of Self
- Least Favorite Body Part.

ALL THAT GLITTERS

With some time off this week I had a chance Monday to do one of my favourite activities…Frenchy shopping, but this time I was on a mission. I was on treasure hunt for all that glittered, more specifically, tops,…skimpy, shinny, sexy and glittery tops to go with a black skirt I was lucky enough to find a couple of weeks ago. No, I was not looking for something to wear bar hopping, but something to complete my belly dance costume. While I found oodles of tops that shimmered, none were large enough to cover one boob let alone two. While luck wasn’t with me in my top hunt, I did find another skirt perfect for dancing, a pink floral print wrap around silk skirt that I plan to wear on our final night of lessons a week from now.

I was feeling pretty excited about my find, envisioning that I would be the “bell of the ball” for the final dress up night, until I went to my lesson Monday night and “she” arrived, a little late, in full belly dance attire.. One of the things I love about my belly dance lessons is that we are a group of women of all ages, size and body types that get to “let it go”. Instead of sucking it all in, we are encouraged to let it flow and ripple, the more the better. Throughout the dance you feel your body move in ways you may never think possible and you work muscles you didn’t know you had, so that the following day you feel tight and toned …for a while anyway.

To get back to “she”, she is probably the youngest of our group, fairly tall, slim and toned. with beautiful long curly “naturally” golden locks.. You getting the picture now? She was the embodiment of a goddess in a class of…well the rest of us. Now, I’ve always believed that our bodies are our temple to be loved and honoured, but it gets really hard finding the love when there are those among us walking around with nicer temples…makes me feel like I got stuck with a shack.

Back to “she”, she was wearing a gorgeous costume that a friend brought home from the Mediterranean, a deep purple low cut organza skirt. trimmed with beading and silver coins and to top off the costume, a purple bra decorated with matching beading and coins. We have the option of showing our bellies, but for good reason we choose not to, but if I had a temple with perky little boobs like hers, I too would be showing it. But, alas, I don’t think my boobs have ever perked, except for maybe that time I walked into a hornet’s nest and was stung all over.

After the lesson was over we all flocked to her like pigs at a trough to examine her costume close up. I had to resist the temptation to poke one of those perks just to see if they were real. Throughout all our poking and lifting her skirts, she remained calm and accepting until we had our fill. But I had noticed in previous lessons a calmness and an almost zen like quality about her. Even without her costume, there is a warm and radiant glow about her, and while I am a little envious of her youth and beauty, it is her calmness and natural glow I would like to capture for myself.