Every one, by now at least, has seen a T-shirt that says something like “These aren’t my eyes” or “My face is up here” (with an arrow pointing, at breast level, up towards the face). The implication of the shirt being that women are annoyed at the fact that men stare at their breasts when they should be respecting them as an equal, rather than some sex object. I can imagine, if I put myself in their shoes, that someone staring at my breasts all day would get rather irritating. I was about to say “If someone was staring at my crotch all day” as a way to try and relate but that’s apples and oranges, cause I wouldn’t give a fuck, and, in fact, might appreciate someone staring at my junk on a regular basis. Anyway, so everyone understands that staring at a woman’s breasts is considered rude and men try their best to fight that genetic urge. The thing is, is that, during their lifetime, women aren’t always so opposed to men staring at their bosom. The BELL CURVE OF BOSOMS, as I like to call it, is what I use to try and understand this curious phenomenon.
The bell curve starts at the bottom when they are just going through puberty. They don’t give a shit at this point; in fact, they probably wouldn’t even realize it if someone WAS looking at them. They are just happy that they’ve moved out of the mosquito bite realm. They then head into early womanhood and now are getting progressively more and more attention from the opposite sex. This attention leads to self confidence and a raised self esteem and they may begin to even flaunt what God gave them. They wear tighter and tighter clothing, lower v-necks exposing more cleavage, will spontaneously do jumping jacks, etc. After that its college and we now have an explosion of hormones, sexual drive, freedom from parents, and youthful exuberance, all at once. Titties start flying everywhere! Wet T-shirt contests, booze cruises, frat parties, lesbian experimentation, Mardi gras, Girls gone Wild, etc. Then they graduate college and need to get into the workforce. So the titties, for the most part, get tucked away into business suits and more conservative clothing, still revealing some feminine traits, but considerably more subdued. Now these guys that grew up with them didn’t forget the Mardi gras, Girls gone Wild, and those drunken frat party lesbian make-out sessions. In addition, like I said, we have a genetic predisposition to stare anyways. The business woman, mother, school teacher, etc., is now getting tired of the men now staring at her and becomes annoyed. This annoyance turns into a full out opposition to the stare. This then perpetuates itself for years. The men around her begin to finally respect her for who she is and are pretty much well behaved and not constantly staring or are at least doing it discretely. This is the peak of the curve. As the woman gets older, however, she begins to lose her looks somewhat. She may lose self confidence and self esteem because she feels she has lost that youthful femininity. The bell curve begins, at this point, to drop back down. She tries to rekindle that young girl that she has lost over the years. Titties, that haven’t seen the sun’s rays in years, starting coming out again. She starts hunting after the men who once stared at her breasts, but whom no longer will. The cougar is born. She wants to be stared at again like she used to be before she started scolding those gawkers of her middle aged years. The bell curve has come back down to the bottom. So you see, that is how I understand this phenomenon of the rise, fall, and the rise again of the titties.
