Breasts are much in the news recently. Remember Tom Wolfe’s The Painted Word? Both Governor Cuomo
and Mayor de Blasio have been trying to deal with upsurge of painted breasts in
Times Square and then Sunday August 23rd was GoTopless Day in which
women demonstrated their right to show their breasts in public (“Seeking Equality, Not Tips, Topless Marchers Draw a Crowd in Manhattan," NYT, 8/23/14). The nice thing
about breast demonstrations is that there are no reports of violence on the
part of the participants or the police (a peaceful situation that would only be interrupted by the intrusion of fringe elements who might try to remove their underpants too). In fact if you look at the expressions on the faces of the police assigned to topless rallies, they tend to be mostly smiling and content. But all
these naked breasts bring back nostalgia
for a more innocent time in American history when showing a breast really meant
something and in which there was a food chain to undressing with the full sight
of the breast and finally the seemingly impossible full view of the naked
female genitalia resting at the top or bottom depending on which way you looked
at it. Men could be demure since back in those days, before the notoriety of porn
stars like John Holmes and Ron Jeremy and before advent of gay rights or
women’s liberation, for that matter, the penis was not even considered
something that anyone would want to see. Howard Stern may have named his
biography Private Parts, but for such an exhibitionist it’s a misnomer. Back in
the 50’s the concept of private parts was really taken seriously and there were
even marriages resulting in consummation and conception in which the lights
were off and neither the male nor the
female ever truly saw what was coming or what tunnel the train was going into.
Is the world really a better place now that women are showing their breasts on
August 23rd ? Are people happy taking indulging other
liberties which were never heard of in the past, like lovers urinating
and even defecating in front of each other? It’s a far cry from the halycon days when a straying satin bra strap or bulging package in Jockey underpants meant something. How are
people going to have sex once all the mystery of the other is gone?
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