Walking along briskly early this morning, I heard a bird call, an almost human-sounding whistle. Wheeee whoo wheeee whoo. It seemed to be coming from the tree tops in the little woods I was passing.
Wheeee whooo wheeeee whoooo wheeee whoooo.
On and on it went. Persistent little thing, I thought. Hm, so persistent, I realized, that it couldn’t be a bird. Probably a car alarm, I decided, although it was too pleasant a sound for an alarm…
Oh-h no, who’s the bird brain? It was my phone which I carry in my pocket on my walks as dictated by my daughters. As I walked, listening intently to the “bird,” I missed a call that I only just now remembered to check, a call I didn’t want to miss. Nuts.
So now my ringtone is a “classic” that sounds just like the phones I grew up with:
ring-g, ring-g, ring-g, ring-g.
‘The Dodo’ drawing, Birdadorable Bonanza, 2009
Cartoon, Mike Keefe, The Denver Post, 2011
Back in my day, if a girl was wearing a sleeveless blouse and her bra strap happened to peek out, she would dash to the restroom in tears. A slipped slip strap was just as bad, but a half slip that slithered off in the hallway was the worst. It happened.
Today’s young women wear tops that ensure that their straps do show, while at the same time, I’m told, they wear thongs instead of panties so so there are no panty lines to show. At least the brassieres of today are prettier than those of my long ago — we had a choice of white, black, or flesh.
I’m not a prude, but I am a bit prudish.
A catalog I get regularly sells several things that make me giggle, while other things make me blush! I’ll only list those that relate to the part of the anatomy that teenagers in my era called “first base.” That was when “hook up” meant to attach your stockings to your garter belt or one side of your bra to the other. For example:
- You can buy a flimsy triangle-shaped cover-up that attaches to your bra — assuming you wear one — to make a plunging neckline discreet or to create a layered look without adding actual layers. In the photos they look like thongs, and I don’t mean flip-flops!
- There’s a “boob tube” that is nothing like your father’s 1956 RCA console TV. These knit or lace bandeaus hide cleavage too. Frankly, my cleavage has gone so far south that the waistband of my panties works for me.
- If your wraparound top doesn’t make it all the way around, Swarovski crystal and pearl cabochons serve as dainty buttons. No more safety pins and tape. I have to wonder, would buying the next size larger shirt alleviate the need for these things? Just askin’.
- Wrinkly decollete? There is a gen-u-ine, one hundred percent, medical grade silicone pad that sticks to the cleavage area to smooth chest wrinkles caused by sun damage, aging or side-sleeping. And, get this, you can actually wear the thing under your clothes, perhaps with one of the above items to hide it.
- For side-sleepers, there’s a lightweight, slip-resistant plastic cylinder that, if I were so inclined, I could snuggle between my bosoms so they’re in a more natural resting position. Sorry, but for my money, “natural resting position” is wherever “the girls” want to rest, under my arm or over my shoulder!
- There’s a form-fitting band that’s really on the border between “first” and “second base.” Lace-edged, it fits over the waistband of your jeans, for example, and under your top. It gives the illusion of a cami without the bulk, and it helps smooth out a “muffin top” too, all the while hiding butt cleavage!
Makes me think, there’s a new market to be tapped here: get rid of the lace, manufacture the band in denim or camo, and market it to plumbers! You get the picture!
Wonder who invented the word “cleavage?”