I want to post an email I sent to one of my best friends, and then her response. She is an awesome person, and her writing is both smart and funny. Besides, there's a little boob-talk in it, and as we know, boobs do rule, even if their place in pop culture is a little exaggerated (as you'll see from the emails).

Here's part of what I wrote to her, in reference to this poem:

It's rather cynical, but I think someone oughtta say it. It is the fact that so many young women (especially here in LA) base their entire existence on being "hot". Their whole sense of self worth and personal identity revolves around their youthful sexuality, and when that begins to fade (usually in their 30's), their whole world subsequently falls to pieces. It's tragic. Now, don't get me wrong, I appreciate a nice rack as much as the next imbecile, and am therefore probably the last person in the world who should be saying anything about it, but I think the young women of today need to understand that there is more to life than a running tally of how much attention one can generate through cleavage and coin slots. I also know that (at least in this country) a sexy woman can build an entire empire for herself on the merits of her face and tits alone, so this frame of mind is not the fault of the individual woman. I just feel bad for the ones who obviously thought their physical beauty would never fade. I don't know that I've ever seen anything sadder than the look of despair on a woman's face when she discovers grey hairs, wrinkles and the newly acquired necessity of a bra to keep her boobs out of her food while she eats.

Oops. I've probably said too much. I thought you might understand my sympathetic feelings though, as you're one of the few women I know who have found a balance between being young and sexy as well as a well rounded and spiritually refined individual. Too many women fall victim to the American ideal, which doesn't extend far from plump lips and stiff nipples. It's too bad... especially since Sean Connery can get laid while his adult diapers are still full.

And here's her delightful, insightful response:

Speakin' of American...women...ah women. It's true that any identity crushing crisis is tragic, especially since it's so hard to find that identity in the first place. I guess I'm coming from a biased position as I've never been able to go bra-less ( I hate it when my boobs touch that little mini-roll that forms right below them when I sit down). Nor have I ever been able to construct an empire with only the use of my lips and tits (no-hands---HEY I SAID NO HANDS!!!) Nor have i ever seen the queen in her damned undies, as the say.

No but seriously, I do empathize with anyone who suddenly finds themselves no longer able to depend on those parts of them which make them who they are--whether it's their beauty, their job, their family, or their health... whatever. The tragedy where beauty is concerned, I think lies in the the cultural construct, as you pointed out, that being beautiful is absolutely the most important measurement of worth for women in this country. The more tragic thing is that convincing women and then re-enforcing it by convincing the rest of the american society of this fact translates into something like a 38 billion dollar profit each year for corporations associated with it. Speaking of American...capitalism..ah capitalism.

Now beauty itself as a measurement of worth is no new thing. Beautiful women have been honored for centuries---I mean wasn't it Helen and her eyes that started all the ruckus with those Greek dudes. And it makes sense that no matter how your culture defines beauty, the closer you are to meeting that standard, male or female, the better chances you have of pro-creating, thus proliferating the species..blah blah bla.

The problem I think lies in the sort of Pop-culturalization (and peoples addiction to it) of beauty in America (and yes other places too) which stream-lines the multifarious concept of beauty into a one-size-fits all abstraction which is then unleashed upon the public in a sort of invisible demon snake monster that creeps into the bedrooms of little children every where and gobbles them up before they can barely walk. Did we mention capitalism. You're right though, you can't blame the individual woman or women as a whole for that matter for being a product of their environment.

So I say, the next time you see Babylon crumbling to the ground in the newly wrinkled face of a bombshell-has-been tell her that fat chicks in cultures in africa get the super-schwing from gawking males passing by in the markets; the ankles are the sexiest part of a women to Hopi males...sagging boobs for god's sake are sexy somewhere I promise. If she can't let go of sexy, she can move there.

The point is just this, the definition of beauty as they believe it to be is illusory. It is as impermanent as their taut young skin and stiff nipples ( they don't always stay that way do they? or do they? are they implants...mine don't do that). I just think that the sooner one can convince oneself to accept things as they are the sooner they will be able to see and accept the rest of the life that exists around them. As you said there is more to life...there is more to life...

.... plus I don't need any corporate suit fucks telling me how to feel about myself anyway. I won't lie I go through all this shit just the same as the next lady...how can I not for fuck's sake. I'd have to gouge out my eyes, pour cement in my ear drums and lock myself in a quadruple paneled steel box placed at the core of the earth to escape all the dogma about "How to be Beautiful" in this damn place. I mean when self-esteem is found on the same isle as diet pills and electric ab-shockers (spill on isle 9 we've got some liposuctioned fat on the floor, careful shoppers fat is really slippery) one has got to come up with some alternative methods. Will you be defined or will you do the defining. It's a mind set. You can go on bitchin' and moanin' about what was or you can get on with what is.

Now keep in mind, I'm not in my thrities yet, so all this rant will probably seem like utter horse shit to me in the next 7 or 8 years. However, I try to prepare myself for what will come as best I can...and then I can only hope for the best.

Rawk rawk rawk!

PS: She also taught me about "zogging" and orange, but that's a conversation for a different day.