I’ve got boobs on the brain.
And it’s the fault of Ursula K. Le Guin. It started with the following passage from her book Changing Planes in the story “Woeful Tales from Mahigul.”
The Vens, contemptuous of all Obtrian religions, enforced public worship of their deity, the Great Mother of the Teats. The Sosa, Astasosa, and Sosasta learned to prostrate themselves before huge mammary effigies, and the few remaining Astasa and Affastasa learned to dance in a circle about small tit fetishes.
It’s a funny take on religion, in a very good unconventional work of fiction. But then I got to thinking that the passage could also be about culture and the million ways that women’s breasts are used to sell things or to simply sell themselves as assets. Witness the Victoria’s Secret commercial where they claim their new push-up bras can add two cup sizes (HELLO BOMBSHELL!). Based on their models, and their coat-hanger figures complete with non-existent bosoms, a push-up bra would be necessary to add cleavage where none exists. My wife checked them out at the mall today and said they might even qualify as a bullet-proof vest they’re so thick.
Anyway, this reminded me of a picture I took when my wife and I were in Argentina in 2003. This was an advertisement inside one of the subway stations.
There you have the image: Glass of Beer = Boob. For years boobs have been used to sell beer, but I don’t think I’ve seen them put together as closely as this. My rough translation of the Spanish: “It doesn’t matter what you see. It matters what it is. What matters is the beer.”
Meanwhile, this being the Season for Giving (or Buying Gobs of Stuff) you can get these ornaments for your Christmas tree.
[Hat Tip: Trollop With a Laptop]
They would definitely be a conversation piece. You could even dance around the Christmas tree indulging any “small tit fetishes” you might have.