Category Archives: it's hard being this beautiful

I can't listen baby about the fourth time you were a lady

Sometimes, I like to talk about what I want to be when I grow up, and sometimes, I like to talk about boobies.

Sadly, Australia has taken one career option away from me, and it is in fact because of my breast size.

You know how our movies here are rated by the MPAA, and they sometimes make wacky decisions. Turns out the Australian version, the Australian Classification Board, has been known to do that too. They have a series of ratings just like us: G, PG, M for mature, R (restricted to 18 and over), X, and RC. RC means Refused Classification, and it is illegal to sell material rated RC. These ratings apply to published material as well as movies, unlike here.

The National Classification Code uses this criteria to determine if a publication should be rated RC.

Publications that:

(a)  describe, depict, express or otherwise deal with matters of sex, drug misuse or addiction, crime, cruelty, violence or revolting or abhorrent phenomena in such a way that they offend against the standards of morality, decency and propriety generally accepted by reasonable adults to the extent that they should not be classified; or

(b) describe or depict in a way that is likely to cause offence to a reasonable adult, a person who is, or appears to be, a child under 18 (whether the person is engaged in sexual activity or not); or

(c)  promote, incite or instruct in matters of crime or violence

A) Ok, fine. Don’t make the average person want to simultaneously cry and throw up.

C) Definitely. Violence = bad.

B) The part to note specifically here is ‘a person who is, or appears to be, a child under 18‘.

Lest you think I’m overreacting (something I’ve been accused of a lot lately thankyouvermuchmovieclubcough), this isn’t just theoretical. Several issues of Hustler have been rated RC and therefore removed from the shelves – strictly because of the breast size of the models. Apparently, if your breasts are too small, you appear to be under 18.

There are so many things wrong with that, I don’t even know where to start. First of all, Hustler is published in America and we are pretty freaking careful about making sure our porno models are over 18.  That makes it clear that they really are enforcing the ‘appears to be’ part of that statement. Second of all, WHAT? Really, Australia? If I came there to be a porn model I’d be screwed. Admittedly it had never occurred to me, but I HATE being told I can’t do things and now you’re pissing me off. I’m 29 years old, Australia. 29.

The goal here may have been because of the concern that images that appear to be of younger individuals could incite/excite pedophiles. I’m sure there are images that do do that, and it makes my heart hurt. This, however, seems to be the equivalent of banning people with French accents from American television because you’re worried it will incite Francophobes to violence.

Not cool, Australia.

Go have a Fosters and think this over.


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Filed under I'm a cranky brat, it's hard being this beautiful, really? REALLY?

I can’t listen baby about the fourth time you were a lady

Sometimes, I like to talk about what I want to be when I grow up, and sometimes, I like to talk about boobies.

Sadly, Australia has taken one career option away from me, and it is in fact because of my breast size.

You know how our movies here are rated by the MPAA, and they sometimes make wacky decisions. Turns out the Australian version, the Australian Classification Board, has been known to do that too. They have a series of ratings just like us: G, PG, M for mature, R (restricted to 18 and over), X, and RC. RC means Refused Classification, and it is illegal to sell material rated RC. These ratings apply to published material as well as movies, unlike here.

The National Classification Code uses this criteria to determine if a publication should be rated RC.

Publications that:

(a)  describe, depict, express or otherwise deal with matters of sex, drug misuse or addiction, crime, cruelty, violence or revolting or abhorrent phenomena in such a way that they offend against the standards of morality, decency and propriety generally accepted by reasonable adults to the extent that they should not be classified; or

(b) describe or depict in a way that is likely to cause offence to a reasonable adult, a person who is, or appears to be, a child under 18 (whether the person is engaged in sexual activity or not); or

(c)  promote, incite or instruct in matters of crime or violence

A) Ok, fine. Don’t make the average person want to simultaneously cry and throw up.

C) Definitely. Violence = bad.

B) The part to note specifically here is ‘a person who is, or appears to be, a child under 18‘.

Lest you think I’m overreacting (something I’ve been accused of a lot lately thankyouvermuchmovieclubcough), this isn’t just theoretical. Several issues of Hustler have been rated RC and therefore removed from the shelves – strictly because of the breast size of the models. Apparently, if your breasts are too small, you appear to be under 18.

There are so many things wrong with that, I don’t even know where to start. First of all, Hustler is published in America and we are pretty freaking careful about making sure our porno models are over 18.  That makes it clear that they really are enforcing the ‘appears to be’ part of that statement. Second of all, WHAT? Really, Australia? If I came there to be a porn model I’d be screwed. Admittedly it had never occurred to me, but I HATE being told I can’t do things and now you’re pissing me off. I’m 29 years old, Australia. 29.

The goal here may have been because of the concern that images that appear to be of younger individuals could incite/excite pedophiles. I’m sure there are images that do do that, and it makes my heart hurt. This, however, seems to be the equivalent of banning people with French accents from American television because you’re worried it will incite Francophobes to violence.

Not cool, Australia.

Go have a Fosters and think this over.


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Filed under I'm a cranky brat, it's hard being this beautiful, really? REALLY?

boobies

Warning: family members and coworkers (particularly those of the non-utero-American variety) might want to skip this post. Dad, I am specifically talking to you and I am not kidding.

Ok, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way – I think my boobs are shrinking. I don’t know how it’s happening, but I’m pretty sure it is. I’m thinking about this because of a post on Shapely Prose yesterday called ‘of boobages’. How can you NOT read it, with a title like that? It’s a frank discussion of breast size written by a woman whose boobs apparently grow and shrink with the seasons, her hormones, and perhaps what she ate for breakfast.

This one time, before I met the boy, I took Shovonda shopping with me for a cute shirt to wear on a summertime date.

I ended up with something like this.

While I was trying it on, Shovonda said ‘that will be PERFECT with a better bra’.

‘What’s wrong with my bra?’ I was wearing a version of the same damn bra I wear every day.

‘Well…’ Here she looked at me like I she was about to revoke my status as a woman – ‘it’s not, you know, doing anything for you’.

Basically something like this, except instead of paying Gap $32 for one, I buy a two pack from the girls section of Target for $7.99. Yeah, you're jealous.

I started looking into bras that would… ahem… do something for me. There are choices, but they all made me feel like an idiot, so I haven’t bought one yet.

This one gives you TWO extra cup sizes. That's the difference between oranges and grapefruits, people.

Please be aware that these pictures are representative of what you get when you search for ‘wireless cotton bra’ vs. ‘padded bra’. Apparently us wireless cotton girls don’t need wind tousled hair and leopard print fabric.

Volcanista, the blogger that wrote the above mentioned post, has been in my shoes. She’s also, apparently, been in the shoes I’d be in if I bought the above bra.

It was very easy to notice changes in how I was treated between month A [A cup bra] and month C [C cup bra]…But what caught me even more by surprise was how much friendlier people were — men and women, friends and colleagues and strangers. Most of those people probably were not even particularly interested in sleeping with me or deliberately hitting on me (hard to believe, I know!). They were just… nicer. I didn’t have to wear anything especially revealing for that to be true, either. Bigger breasts just meant better treatment in general, and while some men were creepy and deliberate about it (see above), for most people it seemed to be unconscious. We are heavily socially conditioned to react favorably to breasts.

I have no idea if that’s true. Also yesterday (which was apparently a boobieful day), I wore a tank top under a cardigan to work. The tank top rides about seven fingers below my collar bone. One of my coworkers came in and raised his eyebrow eeeever so slightly, clearly indicating that he thought it was something of a risqué choice.

My first thought was to leap to my defense by saying ‘but my boobs are SMALL!’ Fortunately I didn’t, because on the scale of professionalism that’s about a negative 4 (where 0 is saying ‘fuck’ at work (which I do all the time)). But it’s true. If my girls were a C, I would never in a million years have worn a shirt that low cut.

So. On to a deep analysis of my breast size.

  • Pro: A lot of the fashion choices that I make, I am able to make because of my size. I can sub unlined tank tops for bras, I can expose a wider expanse of the skin on my chest because of my reduced non-existent cleavage, and I can work out in my day-to-day bras in a pinch. I’m comfortable with how my breasts look on my body, which is also not gigantic.
  • Con: My friends with more generously endowed breasts are objects of fantasy (I know this because apparently having little boobs makes men think I’m practically packing a penis and would therefore love to hear about how much they want to motorboat that girl down the hall). They’re frequently construed as more feminine, and sexier in the way that the leopard print bra girl is sexier. More looks on the street kind of sexier. Joan Holloway sexier. Also, based on the research conducted by Volcanista, people are nicer to them. Even people who don’t want to get into their pants.

Balanced. Ish.

BUT NOW THEY’RE SHRINKING.

This is bullshit. Everyone be really nice to me, even with my little boobs. Ok? Promise?

Thanks.

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Filed under it's hard being this beautiful, tellin secrets, turns out I'm a feminist

the beautiful people

I’m IN. Holy crap. Yes, darlings, enough men found my picture acceptable to get me through the fabled golden gates of beautifulpeople.com, the website that recently kicked out 5000 folks for “too much holiday weight gain”. I’m practicing my investigative journalism skills since my skills as a restaurant reviewer are clearly lacking.

Ok, first things first, they would like me to create a profile. The things they want to know are very very specific.

  • Car owner? Yes/No
  • Smoker? Yes/No
  • Hair color? Drop down list of every hair color you can think of, including bald.
  • Eye color? All, including ‘other’. What color isn’t green, hazel, blue, dark blue, grey, brown, dark brown, or light brown? Do people have purple eyes? Yellow? Are Jacob the werewolf’s eyes yellow?
  • Weight in lbs? Again, an available drop down menu. Highest possible range: 260-264. Lowest possible range: 40-44. Apparently they accept kindergarteners.
  • Height in feet? 2 inch increments from 4’11” to 6″11.  I’m an inch and a half from being forced to lie.
  • Body type? Choices: slim, average, toned, athletic, muscular, cuddly, ample. I like that they stuck ample in there, but apparently you’re only allowed to be ample up to 264 pounds.
  • Relationship status? Choices: single, married, not specified, or in a relationship. Classy, beautifulpeople.com.

Thus far, I’m telling the truth in all of these questions.

  • Education? Level of degree.
  • Job title? Open answer. I said blogger. I’m giving them every chance to discover my undercover identity, here.
  • Job description? I figure blogger pretty much covers it.

Ok, mostly the kind of thing a normal non beautiful people dating site would want you to answer.

  • Details. Like: country, state, city, address, cell phone number, etc.

Obviously not answering those beyond state. Cause, creepy.  Now we get into the open answer questions.

  • Profile description? This would be where you insert your cleverness, I suppose. And explain why you’re on a dating website that allows ‘married’ as a relationship status.
  • International text? There is no explanation of what they mean by that. At all. Just those words and an empty box.

This is all very bizarre. I’m going to delve into the photos of local beautiful people. If I find anything fascinating, I’ll (of course) post immediately. Because really, what else do I have to do.

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Filed under girl geek, I have a pop culture problem, it's hard being this beautiful, turns out I'm a feminist

I'm just going to apologize in advance

I downloaded Picasa a couple of days ago to organize the 17 kajillion pictures that I’ve collected since I left college. Picasa has this truly magical facial recognition algorithm that pretty much blows my mind.

For example, it recognized both of these pictures as me.

Yeah I was wicked hot in college. No, you cannot go back and ask college Emma for her phone number, as tempting as that sounds. No, I was not stoned - this is just how I looked. No, I no longer wear blue eye shadow and cannot for the life of me remember why I thought it was a good idea.

Modeling my handmade princess necklace from the street faire last summer. Yes, that's really how they spell faire. No, I have no idea why.

Of course, it also thought this was me.

Yeah, it's not. One would hope the beard would be a giveaway. Not that the tiniest sprinter isn't a handsome fellow, of course, and you do have to give them points for recognizing the family resemblance.

So yeah, that one kind of makes sense. This one, though….

My uncle Jeff. Not, as far as I've ever noticed, looking much like me.

To summarize, Picasa’s facial recognition algorithms are both magical and occasionally kind of insulting.

It has, however, helped me locate every single picture of my dear girls.

Could they be any more adorable? That's a rhetorical question, of course.

This is where the apology in the title line comes in. Maida, the one on the right, currently smells like something crawled into her stomach and died. If I could swap her for the non-stinky version I remember from that picture, I would do it in a split second.

I have been so lucky with Cloey these past eight years, but I think it might be time to call a vet and find out what the whole anal gland squeezing is about. Yeah, I just said anal, gland, and squeezing in one sentence.

Again, I apologize.

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Filed under girl geek, it's hard being this beautiful, the people I love

I’m just going to apologize in advance

I downloaded Picasa a couple of days ago to organize the 17 kajillion pictures that I’ve collected since I left college. Picasa has this truly magical facial recognition algorithm that pretty much blows my mind.

For example, it recognized both of these pictures as me.

Yeah I was wicked hot in college. No, you cannot go back and ask college Emma for her phone number, as tempting as that sounds. No, I was not stoned - this is just how I looked. No, I no longer wear blue eye shadow and cannot for the life of me remember why I thought it was a good idea.

Modeling my handmade princess necklace from the street faire last summer. Yes, that's really how they spell faire. No, I have no idea why.

Of course, it also thought this was me.

Yeah, it's not. One would hope the beard would be a giveaway. Not that the tiniest sprinter isn't a handsome fellow, of course, and you do have to give them points for recognizing the family resemblance.

So yeah, that one kind of makes sense. This one, though….

My uncle Jeff. Not, as far as I've ever noticed, looking much like me.

To summarize, Picasa’s facial recognition algorithms are both magical and occasionally kind of insulting.

It has, however, helped me locate every single picture of my dear girls.

Could they be any more adorable? That's a rhetorical question, of course.

This is where the apology in the title line comes in. Maida, the one on the right, currently smells like something crawled into her stomach and died. If I could swap her for the non-stinky version I remember from that picture, I would do it in a split second.

I have been so lucky with Cloey these past eight years, but I think it might be time to call a vet and find out what the whole anal gland squeezing is about. Yeah, I just said anal, gland, and squeezing in one sentence.

Again, I apologize.

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Filed under girl geek, it's hard being this beautiful, the people I love

it's not your fault you're always wrong

I know, I know, I promised a best of the naughties people (giggle) post yesterday. I am a horrible terrible slacker, because I’m not going to do it at all.

True story.

In it’s stead, I’m going to talk about this: BeautifulPeople.com.

Don’t get all hasty about clicking the link right now – the only beautiful people you’ll see immediately are these two, because the site has been so inundated with visitors after a recent piece of news that you can’t get past the first page.

I'm willing to bet they're not actually members. Just a guess.

Have you found yourself unable to get a date by actually meeting people in real life, but unwilling to try online dating because you’re sure everyone will be just plain ugly? BeautifulPeople.com feels your pain, so they created a dating site just for you.

Merely click and create a profile that contains nothing but your name, age, gender, and country of residence. Oh, and a photo, of course. Sit back and wait 72 hours for members of the opposite sex (apparently there are no GayPeople on BeautifulPeople) to give you a thumbs up or a thumbs down, using just the profile photo you uploaded. If you get a certain amount of thumbs up – you’re in! If not, don’t worry – according to managing director Greg Hodge, 80% of people who apply don’t get accepted.

Of course, if you ARE a part of the lucky 20% that is considered beautiful enough, you better be careful what you eat. They just kicked out 5,000 members because of holiday weight gain.

I’m so not kidding.

Of course, I’m planning an infiltration. How could I not be? I want to see what these beautiful people look like. I want to see how much weight gain it took to get booted, and how often you’re required to post a new photo – I can’t imagine that 5000 people who prided themselves on their self described beauty thought ‘hm, I’ve put on a couple of pounds – I should take a pic and show all my beautiful friends!’.

I applied. I’m sort of hanging my head in shame, but if I get in, expect all the juicy details.

This was the picture that I thought best fit in with what I’m guessing is their aesthetic. If it isn’t found beautiful enough, I’ll need to borrow someone’s photoshop skills. And someone’s photo, please. Failing that, I can just buy all of the male members several beers.

“According to BeautifulPeople.com, ”vigilant members” called for drastic action after users posted photos of themselves celebrating Christmas and the New Year – revealing they had ”let themselves go”.

Managing director Greg Hodge said: ”We responded to complaints by moving the newly chubby members back to the rating stage. This is the same as having them re-apply.

”Their re-applications were reviewed by existing members and only a few hundred were voted back in. Over 5,000 were rejected.””

Ridiculous. Fat and beautiful are not exclusive, ‘vigilant members’. You want to see just two of the many millions of reasons I know that?

Mmhmm. Yeah. That’s what I thought.

Photo from V’s size issue, which will be released Jan 14th. Click the picture to see more of these lovely ladies.

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Filed under I'm a cranky brat, it's all about me, it's hard being this beautiful, turns out I'm a feminist