Time was, I came by information by looking for it. Nowadays I come by it by looking for something else. For instance, I needed to remember what a collarbone looked like the other day for a drawing I was doing. Theoretically I could have looked in a mirror, but I was at the computer, and that motivates one differently (the primary impulse is to remain slumped in a chair). I could also have hit the button on the Mac that takes my picture, but instead I Googled “collarbone” images, and five billion pictures of collarbones were there at my eyeballtips in a matter of seconds. Although, I will say, they were all remarkably similar.
The one I decided to click on was embedded in an article which snagged my attention. In it I learned that exposure of the clavicle is the latest trend in fashion. Dresses that may reveal no cleavage whatsoever are still considered sexy if a nice protruding collarbone is displayed. The reason the look is considered sexy is that it is impossible to achieve without being dragonfly-thin. You can’t fake a good collarbone. It’s an authentic marker of personal deprivation, and devoutly to be wished for a society blessed with plenty to eat.
That reminded me that I probably wouldn’t have found my collarbone in the mirror anyway. My collarbone, as well as most other items in my skeletal kit, is submerged. I’m pretty sure I still have a pair of clavicles, because my shoulders are about where I left them. But any dress designed to show them off would look more like the wrapper on a loaf of bread. Not white bread, either–the seedy kind.
When I was much younger, I was apt to put my cleavage on display. Later on I developed a personality instead, and no longer sought out that kind of attention. Plus, whereas I still “had it,” things had gotten sort of disheveled. My chest skin had grown mottled and pebbly after years of exposure. We could put a shine on it by calling it “sun-kissed,” but it’s more like a collection of solar hickeys, and I am disinclined to show it off.
Meanwhile, just south, things were getting worse. According to the fashion article about The Collarbone I stumbled across, the “upper chest has risen to prominence.” Unfortunately, my prominences have taken a different turn. Whatever I once might have wanted to reveal has slid away and now only rises to prominence when I cross my legs.
But all is not lost. I discovered, finally, that the article in question was written in 2007, and for all I know nobody talks about collarbones anymore, or anything in the vicinity. For all I know the latest thing in fashion now is lap hooters. And bingo, I’m back in the game.
So it's a game? Damn! That's where I've been going wrong. Can I roll my dice again,please?
Oh, this is too funny! And boy oh boy, can I ever relate. Yup, I too, once had collarbones. And a waistline. But ya know what? Even at our age, men still look at our boobs. (They just have to get on their knees to do it!)
Bazoom! That's one sexy little top, baybeee!
I remember when I was shopping for a highschool prom dress and the saleslady suggested something with more coverage since I was "… still inclined to collarbones." Now I have padding and that "sun-kissed" look so we still go with coverage. Write on, Murr!
I gotta admit that no one looks at my (non-existent) boobs, but I DO have collar bone(s). Just checked in the mirror. Not underweight, either. You wouldn't believe how low you have to go to see my cleavage!
"When I was much younger, I was apt to put my cleavage on display. Later on I developed a personality instead …"
One brilliant zinger of many in this post. I'll be cracking up the rest of the day – and I've never had cleavage in my life. Well, except once or twice after a pregnancy but it didn't do me any good. Just made me walk crooked.
Hooters are overrated IMO. Personality, on the other hand, well, yours rocks Murr. Just think how boring your blog would be if you hadn't developed one. We'd all be stuck looking at pics of hooters. And once you've seen one, you've seen them both.
Just mammary glands really.
I've always been one to stay covered up because I feel comfortable that way and I don't have to tolerate men, and women, looking down at my body. I'm rather flat-chested and just fine with it, but one day I put on one of those gigantic padded bras and could not believe the attention my chest got. Personally, I find it very weird and sad.
I'm devastated that that is an old(er) article. Feeling around, while I read your post, I discovered that I had those collarbones – while not having much of anything else worth fashion's note these days. But now I know why no one's asking me to model…my collarbones are passe. Ah, well. Maybe myopia will come into vogue.
Is there any subject you can't make me laugh over? Keep looking; promise me you will.
I hate I missed the Collarbone Moment! I've got them in spades, although dappled like yours. If I thought they had a shot at being fashionable, I'd just Lancôme 'em and await the encomiums.
I s'pose, since toe cleavage and collar bones have had their day, every part will get a chance eventually. Be sure to alert me directly when sunspots hit it big; I'm prepping for it and I'm gonna be AWESOME!
I wonder how many others, like myself, had to hike down the hall to a mirror to check the state of our collarbones. I have two which are faintly visible under a protective covering of skin and padding. I am relieved to know they are still there doing the job for which they were intended. Thanks for reminding me to check up on them!
Thanking you again for making me laugh out loud! You do it more often than anyone else on my desktop. :0)
Thank you, Jamie, and thanks for the cheap rent.
I was Googling "hawt women with sexy collarbones" and it brought me here. I was a little disappointed, to be honest.
How about women with bulges?
My pacemaker "package" sticks out way farther than clavicle or cleavage.
And…admittedly, I get more winces than winks when I leave mine exposed.
The Seedy Kind
I may have to learn to play guitar just so I can give my band this name.
Collarbones may only be a myth in this body.
I've noticed recently that cleavage is in – even with women who have grandkids. And even in public. And even when their BMI is way past 30. Give me collarbones!
My collarbones are just barely visible these days. Maybe we'll become reacquainted again when I lose weight. Optimistic, aren't I?
I love your reference to lap hooters. LOL!!
Lap hooters! Buwahahaha! Murr, you crack me up!
The first time I had cleavage was about ten years ago when my boobs got floppy enough to touch in the middle when I lay on my side. The sensation was so unfamiliar, I thought some critter had crawled into bed with me and perched.
Try explaining that to Hubby when you bolt upright in the middle of the night, pawing at your chest.
When I explained the situation, he tactfully said… nothing. Love that man.
And all this means gravity is keeping you safe, we all know there is not enough space in the vertical universe…. :}
I recently discovered that the only thing that stood between my 41 year old relationship with gravity and my 17 year old boobage was a slightly more aggressive bra. So I reserve the comfy and largely ceremonial ones that let my sweet chariot swing as low as it cares to for the weekends and wear the ones that gather up what my momma gave me with a slightly more martial discipline when I'm out in public.
You people are cracking me up. I couldn't have put it better, Sheildmaiden, and I didn't, but in case you missed it, I've got your martial discipline right here.
Murr……you are not only brilliant but gorgeous.
You are also essential to my well-being. Don't ever stop. Please. and Thank you.
Murr, your "lap hooters" comment reminded me of another great humorist, Peter de Vries, one of whose characters says, regarding a middle aged woman as she undresses, "deprived of their support, her breasts dropped like hanged men." Great post, as usual!
Murr, you write so well, and yer totally gorgeous to boot. Sometimes you make me sick. Or you would, if I wasn't laughing so hard!
Dianehenders, that sensation first happened so long ago I don't remember it. But I will say that one of my least favorite things about the current situation is the uncomfortable sliminess of feeling parts of me touching other, unrelated parts of me over a considerable distance. I need scaffolding.
Col, really, the pacemaker package sticks out? Holy moley. I never woulda thought.
I want to go on record as an avid supporter of cleavage in all it's finery. More cleavage, less war, is my motto.
Love it. Not sure mine are visible (and am toooo lazy to go and look). I can feel them though.
Great post as always.
Lap hooters! If only…
You mean I was supposed to be turned on by Collar Bones? I wish someone would clue me in on this stuff. Obviously I was looking a bit too low.
Every time I come here, my day is made. Thanks.
Some male children are weaned too early, and always long for the breast. Others are weaned too late, and remain fixated on them. Science has determined that the interval between "too early" and "too late" is in excess of 23 minutes, but no one has yet determined when it is likely to occur. (At 71, I've decided that my mother missed it. Non videre, non vivere)
Nothin' wrong with that cleavage, lady. Personality Plus, that's what we call that.
I think my clavicle was lost somewhere around fourth grade.
"Hey, did you catch that article about collar bones? Very good."
"Yes, it mostly talks about spots and overgrowth on them."
"Hmm. Sounds very entertaining. I think I'll check it out."
And much to my amazement, it was the most entertaining article I have read today, the mark of a great writer.
I love your humor! I have a cleavage, just further south than it used to be. I think I have collarbones…just have boobs of their own!
Well, from what I see you still have a damned fine collarbone girl.
—"dragonfly thin? " I love it! Some of the fashion models do look like insects…
Hilarious as always. But I'm wondering . . . is it collarbone or collarbone(s)? How many do we have? I had an xray recently (one sure way to get a look at your collarbones) and the dr said that there was evidence I'd broken my collarbone at some point in the past. You'd think I would have noticed, wouldn't you?
I'm getting older at the rate of about five years per year. I am a c cup now and I'm a guy. Before now I thought a clavicle was uhh… never mind.
Oh…quitcher complainin'. I have to paint my cleavage on my body.