Girls just wanna have funbags
I'm seriously considering breast augmentation. I had nice boobs (Cs) 60 pounds ago. I really miss them. My boyfriend says not to get implants for him; he likes me as I am. I'm doing this for me. I'm tired of bras that don't fit (straps too short, cups too close), and I really want a bikini-worthy bod. What do men think of implants? I'm not talking about going majorly top-heavy; I just want balance. — Deflated
To your credit, you aren't hoping to achieve "balance" by having a couple of bowling balls inserted. No, you're thinking more along the lines of Zen and the Art of Bolting Two Tennis Balls to Your Chest.
It's understandable, after weight training and Weight Watcher-ing yourself down to where you can wear a bikini instead of using it for an eye shield, that you'd like to fill it with "nice boobs." According to hundreds of comments from men on my blog and elsewhere, those are probably the ones you have, even if they are on the small side. The consensus? Bought breasts tend to feel hard and unnatural, and (eeuw!) a bit cold to the touch. Sure, some guys love big honkers so much, they don't mind if they're fake. And, even guys who don't like fake'uns will tell you they can look pretty boobtacular in a sweater. But, when they're naked or peeking out from triangles of Lycra, they tend to look freaky and make guys wonder what's wrong with you that you felt compelled to hire somebody to slit you open and insert sandwich baggies of salt water or silicone.
How much time, exactly, do you spend in a bikini? Got a day job traveling to convention centers and sitting on top of cars? Is your workstation a greased pole? Keep in mind that all surgery has risks. Just ask the Argentinean model who went under the knife to get a little extra junk in the trunk. Oh, sorry — you can't because, in the words of her friend Robert Piazza, she's a woman who "had everything" but "lost her life to have a slightly firmer behind."
You're unlikely to die getting a little more junk in the top bunk, but you may suffer complications like a buildup of scar tissue, which can cause painful tissue contraction and — whoops! — deformed breasts. Mmmm, sexy! And then, like toupees and car tires, implants eventually need to be replaced. Maybe every 10 years; maybe more often if you're one of the lucky ones who springs a leak. (Are we having funbags yet?)
Given the potential costs of breast augmentation, you might first try bra augmentation. Maybe even see a breast psychic. OK, there's no such thing, but the little old Eastern European ladies at bra specialty stores come close. You can walk in bundled up like Nanook of the North, and Ludmila will march over, bark your size at you (the size you really wear, not the size you think you wear), and strap and cup you until you almost believe somebody at the gym turned in what you lost on the treadmill.
Still find yourself yearning for a surgeon's touch? Do your homework, and be sure you can accept the worst-case scenarios; for example, how the advice by flight attendants — "Use caution when opening overhead compartments. Objects may shift in flight" — applies to those considering implants, which can also become displaced. In other words, if you buy yourself new boobs, you're sure to have guys ogling them, but possibly just from the rear.
Easier unsaid than done
I went out with this guy once; then he went away for three weeks, and we e-mailed and phoned constantly. Last night, he took me to dinner, and it was weird and awkward. Should I text him to say "that felt really weird"? — Honest
Nothing takes the weird and awkward out of dating like sending a guy a typed statement about how weird and awkward you found your date. He's sure to be inspired to look to the future with you, à la "Are you free Friday around 8? How about you go out with some other guy?"
As for your stilted evening, maybe he's seeing somebody else and feeling guilty; maybe it was hard reconciling the phone you and the in-person you; maybe his tighty-whities were riding up. If he calls again, you might steer your next date to someplace there's bigger action than the two of you — a hike, an arcade, an intellectual amusement park (aka a museum). If he doesn't call, you could text him — as if by accident — with one of those form messages that came with your phone: "In a meeting"? Confusing, yes, but a better way to say "call me!" than "Had a really crappy time. Looking forward to many more crappy times in the future."
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