Staying Abreast of Girl Talk

From what I hear on MTV, VH1, prime time television, and in rap music, it's probably O.K. to talk about breasts in this column.

That's good, because I've been wanting to have a frank discussion about my own breasts for several decades.

I come from an era where breasts, boobies, tatas, whatever you want to call them, were a taboo subject. Except if you happened to be an under-endowed junior high school student of the female gender - then, boisterous breast observations from the opposite sex became daily hallway torment. Such as, "Hey, did you know that you're a pirate's dream? You've got a sunken chest!" Or , "Did you know you have a perfect 36 figure? 12-12-12!"

Unlike men, as women we wear our endowments, or lack thereof, in plain sight.

By now you've probably concluded I was one of the "lack thereof." Emphasis on the "was."

No, I didn't have a boob job. Not that I didn't fantasize about it a million times, well into my 30's. Lack of funds and a healthy fear of going under the knife exempted me. But a funny thing happened to me on my way to middle age. They grew.

Even my best friend from grade school noticed. Last week she commented to my chest, "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you had work done." Ah - the wonders of middle age, a severe case of PMS, and an under wire bra all coming together in a perfect storm of long-awaited cleavage.

While basking in the glory of the mammary moment, the vanity bubble was burst when another female friend sitting nearby quickly observed - "Nah, if she had, she'd have had them done a lot bigger than that!"

O.K. So they haven't grown all that much. But enough to make it impossible to look down and see a bee sting I got on my let midriff while biking in my bathing suit top the other day. And fortunately not quite enough to make it impossible to wear a bathing suit top while biking.

But, size aside, apparently us ladies like to yak about 'em. According to a recent article in the Chicago Tribune, women talking and joking about their breasts is a rather popular activity. "Women of all shapes and sizes talk about their...breasts in funny , witty and candid ways," says Vicki Seawright, marketing director for Playtex intimate apparel. According to the article, Playtex is "aiming to expose the candid conversations women have about their chests, and the various euphemisms they use, in an advertising campaign meant to help women overcome the challenge of finding a well-fitting bra. The ads feature women engaging in banter about their breasts, at times using nicknames usually reserved for when men aren't around."

One of the nicknames referred to in the article is "the girls." "The ladies," is another favorite of more well-endowed women, as in, "Let's bring the ladies to the table." Most of the time, though, we just call them boobies. For a full list of nicknames and euphemisms for breasts, one need only slog through the more than 28 million Google hits for "breasts."

But, the article was right. Women are very fond of their gazoobas. While at a party recently a friend of mine leaned over to me, stretched her shirt open and said, "I still have very perky boobs. Wanna see?"

"Not as perky as mine - mine are still smaller," I gloated.