Just got back from a month in LA. Went in to Victoria’s Secret while I was there to look for a strapless bra to go with an adorable sundress I got.
I’ve been buying lingerie at VS since the 80s and I’ve noticed a deplorable trend. When I started shopping there, they had tons of lacy little underwired bras that looked like this one (this is not a VS bra; it’s Nina Ricci (French):
This style is called a balconet. (French trivia: il y a du monde au balcon (the balcony’s crowded) is a French expression to describe a well-endowed woman). Over the years, VS has gradually replaced these pretty little things with the ugly, foam rubber wonders of modern technology we’ve all become so familiar with. (When you put engineers in charge of design in any industry, it’s generally a bad thing. When it’s lingerie…) Here’s an example from VS (for you non-American readers):
These bras invariably have a lump of rubber or some NASA-looking removable gel pack in the lower outside quadrant to boost cup size and add lift. That’s in addition to the industrial-strength underwire. These bras make your boobs perfectly round, nipple-less, and immobile. Personally, I think they have the sex appeal of Nerf basketballs.
But that’s the idea. The modern American breast aesthetic. Thanks to the popularity of the boob job, evidently men (and consequently women) like boobs that look like Nerf basketballs.
I had been wearing these engineered VS bras for a few years before I got to France, I admit it. When in Rome, you know. I was wearing one when I met Vincent, and he later confessed to having wondered if my boobs were real… Given the context I can hardly blame him; he’s French and we were at a party in LA…
The boob job isn’t the only culprit behind the you-too-can-have-fake-boobs look, however. American prudishness is partly to blame too. Vincent didn’t believe me when I told him that American women actually try to hide nipple erections. Then I found a reference to that phenomenon in an article in some American women’s magazine not long ago. He was shocked. His latest song, Get Real, is about the plastification of American women (a favorite topic of his).
Many elements of American “taste” are starting to infect France and, unfortunately, the Nerf aesthetic is creeping into the lingerie industry, despite the relative rarity of boob jobs here. There are more and more of these bras in stores here in Paris. But the sheer, lacy, underwired numbers that give just a bit of a boost, allow plenty of bounce, and don’t hide the headlights are still predominant.
There is a hilarious compromise on its way to France. Polly, of Polly-Vous Français blogged just the other day about a WonderBra (American company) that is being marketed in France only. It’s a Nerf bra, but it has a built-in nipple erection… She was kind enough to include a picture.
I’m so glad French men like women who look natural… It’s such a relief not to have to conform outwardly to some artificial ideal. And those Nerf bras were so uncomfortable. I’ve gone back to the little lace numbers. It’s put some bounce back in my step. And elsewhere.
Your post made me smile, probably just because I have so little in common with the lingerie industry :-)
The ‘built-in nipple erection’ high-tech WonderBra from Sara Lee Corporation (don’t they sell coffee creamer?), the dichotomy between selling fake-boob-job bras and just wearing a ‘bouncy’, lacy bra that makes you feel comfortable: it all sounded very familiar though (and no, I’m no cross-dresser)
I wonder how it felt to come home in Paris after a month in LA though. No matter how much the US has changed, California remains the place where you grew up – I recall vivid memories when I once visited my own primary school and was utterly shocked how much the town had changed.
Hi Peter. It did cause some emotional turbulence going there and coming back. Maybe it’s like seeing one of those ex-boyfriends who turned out to be a disappointment so you dumped him but you still kind of have the hots for him and you’re angry at yourself for that because you know better and you know deep down it would never work… And when you’re away from him you forget the worst. But when you see him again you remember. Or something like that. Anyway, LA isn’t home, San Diego is, and there’s a big difference (believe me!). I’ve always hated LA.
As a woman who needs a bit more, er, scaffolding, than I used to (at least to fit the American norm)I do wonder if it isn’t a big disappointment to the guys who unhook the engineering and upholstery, and watch the souffle fall… Is “up front” truth-in-advertising better, or does the interest in visual fantasy prevail?
Daaahhhhling. Funny you should ask. I was driving along the other day listening to Frogs talk on the radio, and this woman was interviewing a famous author/cartoonist who was known for his drawings of women and his writings on sex. The topic was tits, as it happens, and he specifically said that he preferred soft ones that move and “fall a little” to the “aggressive” firm boobies of young women. Maybe you should find yourself a European man… ;-) Watch the soufflé fall! That’s classic! You’re hilarious!
what a great post! I was at the mall yesterday (I am in exile in the US until December) looking for undergarments and stopped by VS… they had nothing but those foam things! and I refuse to wear them. so being the snob that I am, I thought to myself, well, I am too good for VS anyway; I’m going to go to Saks and buy lingerie there. The price will come out to be the same, given the exchange rate, as what I pay volontiers at Princesse Tam Tam. I went to Saks and– more foam things. Just more upscale than at VS.
Over the years, I’ve seen technology strip us of the joy of encountering a woman au natural. Maybe the age of the internet has had something to do with that. The glory of real breasts, as presented by the classic painters, has faded as no other female charm has. These days, people shop on the internet, without any craving for the texture and tincture of the object observed. No longer can a man manifest in his mind, from images of airbrushed ladies, the aliveness of real, unadulterated breasts. He has been given Barbie tits–mere boobs without personality. Balloons without identity. Nipples that don’t react to cold or excitment; where did they go? Women, with so-called enhancements, become more marketable, but I don’t know why. They are not more beautiful. With their noses changed, their lips swollen and unhealthy. You will notice that the film-makers don’t show any close-ups of these lips while kissing; what they show is the graceful forms to two people together, hearts entwined, struggling to get close to one another. One of the most exciting, erotic scenes is when the breast of the woman is exposed, hanging from its place, usually apparent under the clothing but now naked, nipple erect, and is virtually the holy grail of every sexual male-being who has been taught, under the rules of civilization, to refrain from touching it. Stop stuffing it with silicone, with saline, with anything. Even if a woman has one breast smaller than the other. Stop! See the beauty that God has created. She is an exciting creation, even if she lacks something that the media culture says she is supposed to have. Cup that breast in hand and rejoice.