With cleavage, less is more

Sitting in a restaurant with my husband, who at 54 still doesn’t need glasses, especially for displays like the one at the next table.  The young woman wore one of those strappy numbers with the so-called built-in bra, which is little more than a strip of thin spandex, and was spilling out over the table with 4 inches of cleavage.

 Why? Because it was lunch time, I guess. Midday. Children and teens everywhere.  Is there no relief? I’ve never been so glad to see the leaves turning and the return to turtlenecks. Do we need to be nearly naked as we shop for melons? No pun.

We’ve heard that to the man of pre-19th century days, a flash of ankle would cause a palpitation. Why? Because the glimpse of what was usually forbidden to the eye was, well, a treat! It was a rarity and thus its value that much higher.  As we constantly expose ourselves, men are becoming desensitized to our charms.When the level of tolerance has been reached, it takes more the next time to achieve the same effect, the “wow.”  First ankles, calves, knees, and now even breasts are becoming banal. What will we offer up next?

And the TV news! The news is cleavage. Do you really want to hear about war and plane crashes from a reporter with unsuspended, uncovered breasts? We decode the nonverbal along with the verbal. What is her message? Read these!

We’ve done it to ourselves. Men are creatures of fantasy. And there is more fantasy potential in a creature of mystery — one with some surprises left to explore. They also figure classy is as classy does.

But forget the men! I’m tired of seeing my fellow females’ breasts. And let’s face it, all breasts are not created equal and have not been endowed by their creator with the same rights. If your breasts are on on your belly, I don’t want to know it.  And you surely don’t want him to. Get some support. 

 There is a time and place for a lowering of the neckline. But it isn’t Walgreen’s. Cover up. Wow them with your sparkling wit and personality.