Scentzilla!

“If you want your man to drown in your lust, you must, you must, increase your bust.” So says the song I sang along with all the other girls, while listening to Lords of Acid play way too loudly when I was a teenager.

The human body is a moveable feast, but one that is meant to be celebrated for any occasion, and as often as possible. The beauty industry capitalizes all too well on this notion by attempting to manipulate folks into thinking there’s a correct size for the feast.

Having no better excuse than a sample on hand, I tried out Pout Bustier, a “bust enhancing cream.” I was thinking I’d show before and after pictures of myself, until I realized that would bring in some traffic I just don’t want. Plus, there’s the creepy email factor. And I’m sick of creepy emails. (Hey creeps, I really look like Bthulhu* in real life. It’s true!) Instead, let’s go with a photo commentary, if that’s all right with you?

Some ladies have these firm little fruits:

Others possess equally juicy but plumper gifts:

Still others, like myself, are cursed with these:

In the produce market of life, we find a variety of selections, and there is room for everything.

But the job of the beauty industry is to convince us all that attraction is a sport. They connive to fool every woman into thinking she looks like this,


and brainwash us all into thinking that only with these can a woman hope to be attractive:

Good grief. None of us needs that sort of grief. This sort of thinking is not anywhere near the neighborhood of realistic. Sure, it circles the block a few times, but it never arrives at the actual location.

When a guy is truly attracted to you, I have it on good authority from those in the know (focus group of one: my husband) that no matter the size of your endowment, all he’s gonna see are these:

Okay, so I will concede one thing: there are some men who are not terribly interested in your cookies, and are only out to try to ring your Taco Bell. Those sorts of men can be fun enough when you’re young and stupidish. Of course as you get a little older and stupidish, you eventually realize those are also the men who are the least good at… uh, ringing.

So what does Pout Bustier do, really? Well, it’s got a nice dose of glycerin to moisturize the skin. The texture is thick but easy to spread out. It smells lovely though not terribly compelling, a sort of tart rosy scent with ylang ylang and geranium. It would layer well with a number of perfumes. And it has shimmer, wee little micro-specks of mica that are subtle but not ignorable. The shimmer sticks well, and mostly remains on the skin to which it was first applied. (It has been tested. Let us leave it at that.) In effect, it adds a little extra sumthin’-sumthin’ to catch the eye, so that the right guys will see this:

On a seperate note, I finally got around to also joining the Coutorture community. Please stop by there and visit all the great sites affiliated with them!

*An explaination of whence comes Bthulhu.