Nippin' Out at VS

Okay now that I have your attention . . .
Are you wondering what the hell you are looking at here? Well I sure was when I was in Victoria's Secret after work yesterday and came upon this scary sight on the shelf. When asked about it, the sales girl rolled her eyes and said they had just gotten them in. Um, hold on. Back the lingerie truck up please. VS is serious with this? I just had to snap a quick picture with my phone when no one was looking.

Women have tried everything for years and years just to cover these suckers up. Lined bras, padded bras, breast petals, even band-aids. (yes, I had a friend in high school whose Mom did that) Not to mention women being taken seriously in the workplace among their male counterparts who get distracted by even the slightly slitted skirt, or gapping button. Is VS attempting to reverse all that we have worked for in terms of being seen by men as more than just sexual objects? Can you seriously see a woman wearing this - where?? A night on the town with the girls? The attention it would gain you would not be the kinds of men you want to date anyway. Church on Sunday?? I'm pretty sure nippin' out in God's house is frowned upon. Monday morning staff meeting?? CEO: "We had a hard second quarter, err, I mean, strong. And we saw a pointed rise in revenues when we released our headlights - I mean - headquarter's earnings." Moreover, whose boyfriend or husband would want their woman to actually wear this? Sure, they might find the sight sexy as you flit around the house in it, but they sure as hell won't feel comfortable about you wearing it on girl's night out. And rightly so.

No, we know WHO this bra is made for, and it's not for women, or even their boyfriends and husbands. It's for the OTHER men. You know the ones. And that is just not a healthy way to project yourself, to those other men, and to the world in general. It's VS saying "Go ahead, exaggerate this intimate part of you and use it to your advantage! Screw the message it gives young girls!" Not cool VS, not cool.

So by this rationale, shouldn't we soon see jeans in Abercrombie & Fitch that have built-in bulges? I mean, really - if we are taking away the mystery, putting it all out there, and emphasizing sexuality over all else, why not?

Would love to hear your thoughts.

You say boyfriend, I say . . .

I have a word dilemma. And being one who likes to write, a word dilemma is quite bothersome. In today's society we have endless labels and nicknames for everything. 'Man-bag', 'Gold Digger', 'She-Male', 'Fashionista', 'Cougar', the list goes on. (Although my personal favorite is 'Mandals' = man sandals. hehe)

Anyway, I am at a loss as to how to assign a label to one of the most important areas in my life: my man. Those who know me know my love is older than I, and me being out of my twenties now, I'm no spring chicken myself. We are not married and so we seem to be stuck with the 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' labels. Well, I'm sorry but 'boyfriend' does not begin to cover the depths of what this person is to me. Further, we live together, have made a life together, and you know - it's serious! So what does one call their love when we are past the high-school sounding 'boyfriend' stage? And I must say, I'm not particularly a fan of labels for the people in our lives, but it seems that you always come across it in everyday conversation and end up needing to assign one.

So I ask you - what are some other words instead of boyfriend that make sense for this stage in life?

Sight

Note: The paragraphs from my book will always have a one-word Title in the post.

My brain recognized sunlight immediately, and yet I did not feel the need to squint. Directly in front of my eyes stood something I wasn’t prepared for. A large brown horse. A horse so large that its head towered over me so that I could see up its enormous nostrils. I had never seen a horse so big and intimidating. My first thought was that this must be heaven. Was this a chariot of sorts? The horse exhaled loudly into my face and stamped a hoof, and I took a step backward. Or at least, it seemed like I did, but I did not feel my body move. Instinctively I tried to look down at my legs but I found I could not move my head. I felt the same as I did lying the hospital bed except now I was standing upright and somewhere in a sunlight field with Mr. Ed. I was thoroughly confused and willing myself not to panic since it seemed that I had just died and wherever I was had to be better than imprisoned in the dark in a hospital bed. Suddenly a voice behind me said,

“Oh for heaven’s sake Jenny – he won’t hurt you!” the voice must have kicked my brain into working my legs because I turned around to face the voice. A middle-aged woman stood near me, her thick red hair was secured in a low pony tail under her cowboy hat. She was very tall – unusually so, just like the horse. At my 6’0 height I had never felt so short in my life. I didn’t recognize this woman, nor did I recognize the landscape around me. I was also trying to make sense of the fact that she had just called me Jenny, and then I heard my response to the woman.

“Mom, I just don’t want to yet.” I mumbled quietly. Only it wasn’t me who spoke.