—written by Norma
The first time I saw Kotex on a store shelf without its brown wrapper disguise, I nearly swooned. Imagine my horror when television sprouted ads for feminine hygiene spray, douches, bras, and lastly, condoms. Note the inequity here.
Why not ads for jock straps, deodorant dip?
I can’t imagine how men ever ride a horse or bicycle in comfort. What a chore of rearranging this must entail, considering how I must wiggle when wanting to sleep painlessly on my stomach. Horses and bikes hit bumps.
Dr. Freud? There are plenty of ladies without an inch of penis envy. Convenient as it might be to urinate standing up or fun to write one’s name in the snow, moving with a top has to be easier than running about with a smaller equivalent between one’s legs. Alas, I’ll never know, will I?
Jock strap ads could include cup sizes. Wasn’t that a hoot about the girl Little Leaguer being told she should wear one of those cup gadgets? Different fabrics could be touted along with washing temperatures and non-allergenic soaps to give the dainty contraption beauty and long life. Maybe a model with garters or suspenders to eliminate ride up or ride down—something we women could use when clad in those skimpy panties with a string crotch and leg holes yawning open to the waist. Talk about being sawed in two. Worse, I can’t, on the first try, get into the dratted things: the wispy crotch is the same size as the leg openings.
Shaving to accommodate the “vee” look of women’s swimwear is akin to being “prepped” for childbirth. I haven’t the itch resistance for that scene. I don’t like the elongated look, anyway.
Worse is the bare behind with thong. Speak of being cheeky! Is there no shame?
Bathing beauty movie star Esther Williams founded a swimsuit company years ago. She admired the one-piece suit that made a woman’s body sleekly curvaceous. Apparently she isn’t taken with the latest swim fashions. She’s credited with describing the suits of today as being nothing but “two cups and a string.”