Friday, May 09, 2014


The other day I was exposed to a television show about shallow rich women in an East-Coast metropolis, as well as the Hamptons. Other than the huge amount of blonde attitude and perfect teeth (both caste determinants as strong as anything), the one thing that stood out was transparent garments.

I now know far too much about middle-aged blonde bottoms.
And thighs. And boob jobs.

No, they did indeed wear underwear. Don't know if any of it was age-appropriate -- looked away every time the ladies with those "summer dresses" were on screen -- but I suspect not.

I not certain that see-through is proper for anybody, or at anytime.
Other than moments alone with a sexual partner.
Interesting bed-room kink.

If that shakes your cocktail, that's okay.
And I too might enjoy that.
Ain't saying.

There are several other garments that are aesthetically pleasing to both genders. Some of these suggest youth, voluption, or steamingly hot hot hot HOT! sexuality.

Saris, for instance, always suggests breasts like ripe mangoes. Possibly because of a snippily stuck-up Gujarati woman that I once worked with.
I was rather disappointed to find out that she had had a boob-job at the same time that she had her nose done, and her teeth fixed.
Ripe mangoes. Sweet, fragrant soft.
Green mangoes are hard.
I never asked.

[Actually, green mangoes taste far better. And they're great with a little salt. Mmmmmm!]


One of the most beautiful women I have ever known was a co-worker, who moved back to Hawaii several years ago. What made her so stunning was not her radiant smile or clean, tasteful, and proper clothing -- garb that did not reveal or expose, but covered in a way that demonstrated that she had common sense and sound judgement -- but rather her sweetness, consideration for others, her courtesy, and a strong mind.
A very responsible person, ethical and honest.
Not blunt.

Exhibitionism is blunt.

I've always felt that cleavage is the moral equivalent of assault with blunt instruments. "Here, look at 'em!", is the message that extremely visible cleft sends, "or I'll pout and whine and bitch up a peevish storm".
Yet obeying that psychotic command also spells trouble.
"What are you staring at, creep?"
Followed by war.

Big exposed cleave-surfaces, even if not totally undressed, tend to turn any social event into a combat situation. Well-bred men will move their heads in any direction they can to avoid the tasteless partial nudity, all women except the blonde nymphos fiercely resent the girl who is showing off her bigger, stronger, and more competitive breasts.

Exhibitionism has its place; most men will discretely stare with their peripheral vision, even gentlemen. What are they? Oh my, there are TWO of them! Can they move independently? They can? They've just GOT to be carnivorous! Perhaps even cannibalistic! Plus it will inevitably remind us of our classes in high-school, when bare girlish arms made us pleasantly uncomfortable, and old man Hillemans blushed like a rose when forced by the textbook to explain human sexuality. By the time it got to body tissue with numerous vascular spaces -- not even mentioning the perineal sponge -- his redness and stuttering got the better of him. For the last three weeks of that class, his place was taken by a tall strong-minded matter-of-fact Northern woman who brooked absolutely no nonsense.
Her attitude cured us of our problems.
Many of us got stellar grades.
Quite dispassionately.

[She may have been a contributing factor to my inner issues with blondes. Conversely, my subconscious could very well have acquired a marked preference for intelligent strong-minded women precisely because of her.
I just don't know.]

Anyway, most men will not fail to absorb the exposed and educational physical details. It's instinctive, and quite subconscious. We honestly don't mind looking at a bit of curvy tastelessness, provided we don't ever have to be seen with it, in public, when we're unguarded.

Men will gladly tolerate the female exhibitionist.

But we won't remember her conversation.

Possibly not even her name.


Per Wikipedia:

From an information processing perspective there are three main stages in the formation and retrieval of memory:

Encoding or registration: receiving, processing and combining of received information
Storage: creation of a permanent record of the encoded information
Retrieval, recall or recollection: calling back the stored information in response to some cue for use in a process or activity

[End cite]

From a different Wikipedia entry:

Working memory includes subsystems that store and manipulate visual images or verbal information, as well as a central executive that coordinates the subsystems. It includes visual representation of the possible moves, and awareness of the flow of information into and out of memory, all stored for a limited amount of time.


In 1974, Baddeley and Hitch introduced and made popular the multicomponent model of working memory. This theory proposes a central executive that, among other things, is responsible for directing attention to relevant information, suppressing irrelevant information and inappropriate actions, and for coordinating cognitive processes when more than one task must be done at the same time. The central executive has two "slave systems" responsible for short-term maintenance of information, and a "central executive" is responsible for the supervision of information integration and for coordinating the slave systems. One slave system, the phonological loop (PL), stores phonological information (that is, the sound of language) and prevents its decay by continuously articulating its contents, thereby refreshing the information in a rehearsal loop. It can, for example, maintain a seven-digit telephone number for as long as one repeats the number to oneself again and again. The other slave system, the visuo-spatial sketchpad, stores visual and spatial information. It can be used, for example, for constructing and manipulating visual images, and for the representation of mental maps. The sketchpad can be further broken down into a visual subsystem (dealing with, for instance, shape, colour, and texture), and a spatial subsystem (dealing with location).

[End cite]

To put it in simple terms, part of the mind automatically decides what will be remembered, based on factors such as importance and significance, as recognized at a non-conscious level. Much of what gets stored in long-term memory may not seem worthwhile to the conscious mind; but it is precisely because of what one chooses to recall, and how often, that the mind establishes a hierarchical rating for new data.

How does this work? There are tree things to consider: primacy, recency, and selectivity. Primacy means that the first thing noticed will stick around in the head longer (because it will be 'repeated' more), recency indicates that the closer in time to the present the stimulus was experienced the better it is recalled -- details will fade over time -- and selectivity establishes what is more worth storing as a memory versus what is of lesser importance.

From another wikipedia article:

Several studies have demonstrated that the presentation of emotionally arousing stimuli (compared to neutral stimuli) results in enhanced memory for central details (details central to the appearance or meaning of the emotional stimuli) and impaired memory for peripheral details.


Emotional items also appear more likely to be processed when attention is limited, suggesting a facilitated or prioritized processing of emotional information.

[End cite]

Due entirely to their appearances and behaviour, I cannot remember all the names of the ladies on Real Housewives of New York.
One of them is named, or nicknamed, 'Toaster'.

Men will graciously hold the door for the woman exposing large "tracts of land" as much as for women who did not display themselves. But we'll damned well fall over ourselves rushing to do so for ladies like my gracious coworker or the replacement high-school teacher I mentioned.

Gallantry, like memory, is prompted by details.

And emotionally arousing stimuli.

A value system.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


e-kvetcher said...

I was just reading the Wikipedia entry for "Black Narcissus" and here is how Rumer Godden describes Kanchi, a seventeen year old dancing girl who becomes the object of the Young General's affection - "a basket of fruit, piled high and luscious and ready to eat. Though she looks shyly down, there is something steady and unabashed about her; the fruit is there to be eaten, she does not mean it to rot."

The back of the hill said...

That is a splendid description.

Anonymous said...

I have a 45 second tolerance for any of those "Real Housewife" shows. Any more prolonged exposure makes my hands twitch, and I fear that my television might be in jeopardy from any solid objects within arms' reach.

The back of the hill said...

Anonymous at 11:58 AM,

you are a lucky person. My apartment mate watches them obsessively.......... In between repeating the phrase "my god what a c*nt" everytime one of those women does something egregious.

belatedly (and no longer anonymously) amphibious said...

No, I'm not a lucky person. I just physically don't have the tolerance for these scum.

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