NEW RELEASES
Get your e-book signed by Amylynn Bright
Amylynn's bookshelf: my-books



More of Amylynn's books »
Book recommendations, book reviews, quotes, book clubs, book trivia, book lists
Archives

The girls, the ta-tas, the chi-chis

I was watching Project Runway. I love this show. I love the crazy, pissy, over-the-top designers – men and women alike. I want to be Heidi Klum when I grow up. I have several Michael Kors pieces  that I just love. Tim Gunn is fabulous. If you’re not a regular viewer, then you should be. Some of these designers are geniuses.

The challenge on this episode involved the designers pairing up with regular guys to design an outfit for their wives or girlfriends. It was quite comical to hear the words men used to describe what clothes their women liked, what their style was. One guy said to a completely befuddled designer, “she’s cutsie only elegant.” The guys absolutely could not describe the colors their women liked. Apparently in kindergarten when the colors periwinkle, fuscia and mustard were discussed the boys were all off in a corner discussing Matchbox cars and touch football.

The other thing that had me shaking my head in wonder was the men’s complete obsession with boobs. One guy discussed his wife’s boobs ad nauseum. It was disturbing. Everyone found it disturbing. If I was his wife, I would kill him after I watched this show air. Totally embarassing.

“Are all guys like that?” I asked My Honey who was studying across the room. I don’t know why I asked. I knew the answer but I still find it hard to believe.

“Uh, yeah.” he told me while looking at me like I was an out of touch moron. “Ever heard of ‘titty bars’?”

“Really? Why?” I knew he wouldn’t be able to answer this question to my satisfaction. I don’t think women will ever get it.

“Maybe because we don’t have any?” he suggested, lamely.

“Bullshit,” I countered. “We don’t have penises and, I swear to God, we don’t sit around thinking about them all the time.”

To add a more disturbing edge to my realization, I had to acknowldge that even The Bandit at six years old is fascinated with boobs. He’s always absently patting mine.

When I mention this to his father, My Honey just smiles indulgently and says, “That’s my boy.”

Oh, for crying out loud. What ever.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Copyright © 2013. All Rights Reserved.