I have a confession to make: I'm totally obsessed with fake boobs. It's not that I have any, you know, erm, tendencies in the female direction - this is not a 'coming out' post (which, incidentally, is not a legal lifestyle choice here in Dubai) - I simply find plastic boobs absolutely fascinating.
When we lived in London I didn't know anybody who'd enhanced their natural bosoms. And even if they had, it's so bloody cold there most of the year that who'd know what you had stuffed up your wooly jumper? But here in Dubai it's a different story - you can't walk down the street without tripping over an enhanced pair.
On the school run, for example. I see one particular woman on a daily basis who proudly sports a smaller version of the famous Posh Spice boobs (pre-re-op). It's quite embarrassing but I find it very difficult to look her in the eye - to the point that she now looks a little nervous when she sees me (better be careful or I could find myself in the starring role of a quite unsavoury rumour).
There's even been tales of a sighting of a young Russian girl, Sugar Daddy in tow, with remodelled mammaries and impressive bottom implants to match - for balance, perhaps? Whatever, plastic boobs are everywhere - on all types of women, in all shapes and sizes and beggaring all levels of belief.
I'm not alone in this strange obsession. Obviously Alpha shares my interest (we often play an entertaining game of 'spot the boobs' when at the beach) - in fact, I suspect that if it wouldn't spoil the line of his suit he'd probably be up for having a pair of his very own fitted. But it's not just a guy thing; I've had many a happy wine-fuelled discussion with my closest girlfriends on this subject in the past and I would estimate that a fair few of them would be quite happy to invest in a set, especially those who've experienced the interesting body changes that are an inevitable result of childbirth and breastfeeding.
Me? I'm just not sure. Tempted, yes, and if I could just wake up one day with a marvelous new pair of boobs then great. But it's the faff of having surgery, the cost, the dangers, the recuperation time, the vague embarrassment of people staring at your chest with a quizzical look in their eyes...
So I guess that, in the meantime, I'll just have to be content to buy up stock in La Senza and continue to cast sidelong glances at women much braver than I probably will ever be.
When we lived in London I didn't know anybody who'd enhanced their natural bosoms. And even if they had, it's so bloody cold there most of the year that who'd know what you had stuffed up your wooly jumper? But here in Dubai it's a different story - you can't walk down the street without tripping over an enhanced pair.
On the school run, for example. I see one particular woman on a daily basis who proudly sports a smaller version of the famous Posh Spice boobs (pre-re-op). It's quite embarrassing but I find it very difficult to look her in the eye - to the point that she now looks a little nervous when she sees me (better be careful or I could find myself in the starring role of a quite unsavoury rumour).
There's even been tales of a sighting of a young Russian girl, Sugar Daddy in tow, with remodelled mammaries and impressive bottom implants to match - for balance, perhaps? Whatever, plastic boobs are everywhere - on all types of women, in all shapes and sizes and beggaring all levels of belief.
I'm not alone in this strange obsession. Obviously Alpha shares my interest (we often play an entertaining game of 'spot the boobs' when at the beach) - in fact, I suspect that if it wouldn't spoil the line of his suit he'd probably be up for having a pair of his very own fitted. But it's not just a guy thing; I've had many a happy wine-fuelled discussion with my closest girlfriends on this subject in the past and I would estimate that a fair few of them would be quite happy to invest in a set, especially those who've experienced the interesting body changes that are an inevitable result of childbirth and breastfeeding.
Me? I'm just not sure. Tempted, yes, and if I could just wake up one day with a marvelous new pair of boobs then great. But it's the faff of having surgery, the cost, the dangers, the recuperation time, the vague embarrassment of people staring at your chest with a quizzical look in their eyes...
So I guess that, in the meantime, I'll just have to be content to buy up stock in La Senza and continue to cast sidelong glances at women much braver than I probably will ever be.
Comments
From that day forward, every time you were rumbled for ogling a nice set of jugs, you could parry the usual admonishment by quickly saying "Just not sure if they're real, sweetest, what do you reckon?".
I like the cut of Alpha's gib, playing boob spotting games with you on the beach. But like many Alpha's, they like playing games where they can't lose!
Can we have comment from anyone out there who has actually taken the plunge and now sports an enhanced heaving cleavage? Would love to know what your take on it is.