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The Cult of the Cross-Eyed Nipples
By Nancy Lindquist | April 1, 2007
I clearly remember the joy of sneaking out braless as a teen. I only did it a couple of times. I considered it the height of rebellious slutdom and I didn’t have a lot of courage. Ah, the good old days. Now I realize that being without a bra is not akin to being a slut. At my age it’s closer to worry about knee damage.
If you’re a man who wants the illusion that all women’s breasts a art, click the X now. You don’t want to read the rest of this. Trust me.
My boobies are not what they used to be. No, they’re not pathetic, but they’re close. The more weight I lose, the smaller they get. When I was larger, they were magnificent. Size 40 DD, bordering on ginormous and nearly perky. Now? Not so much.
Putting on a bra used to be a straightforward affair. Put it on, look cute while my husband did it up, or undid it. Before kids we could play more. Now I go through the stack of bras, most of which have underwires poking out, and pick one that looks like it will do the job. Then, it’s bend over and dangle the small C’s into the cups. Pressing the bra to my breast, I hold it tight to my bosoms and stand up quick. After I get my blood pressure back, I twist my body into a pretzel position and close the puppy up.
Wait, I’m not done. If you’re in your thirties, you put a shirt on and walk out the door, at this point. I’m not in my thirties. At forty-three there’s one more step. I head to the mirror and adjust the girls till the nipples are pointed in the same direction. It’s getting to be a tougher job these days. I’m considering a level and a GPS unit to accomplish the task.
Reach hand in bra, fiddle. Peer into mirror. Turn sideways. Reach into bra, fiddle. You get the point.
At some point, they either look close, or I give up. I’ll settle for close, most days.
Lately, I’ve noticed that the once daily, level and electronic positioning device straightening is not enough. I’ve been known to have to check them throughout the day. Lest they wander into uncharted territory. Look, hoist, laugh it off. Especially if you’re in a women’s restroom with eighteen year old boobs. They don’t get it. I get some seriously odd looks. That’s okay. They will get it. Time is the great leveler.
Hey honey, I got my stuff at Home Depot. You’ll need to know that, someday.
April 3rd, 2007 at 1:10 am
Don’t feel bad, Nancy. I’m 25 and have to do the nipple tango too. *g* I’d like to get them chopped off and have perky B cups. Only problem is, I think the old man would probably divorce me.
April 4th, 2007 at 8:48 pm
I am laughing my ass off! I can relate to one nipple pointing “east” and the other pointing “west”…whatever happened to pointing NORTH??
February 26th, 2008 at 2:13 pm
This is so funny, and thanks for teaching about this! I’m 35, but I just started changing into female late last year and my boobs are just growing now. My nipples point sideways. It will be interesting to see if I ever have to adjust them. Well, at least I will know!