Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Breast Petals and Other Marital Secrets

I bought this dress to wear to a party with my husband's law partners:

And because some of you have two X chromosomes, I know you need to see the back:

Because the party was in the nebulous realm of "engagement party at a private residence," I was confused about the dress code. I should wear a dress, but not too dressy of a dress. I don't work with these people, so I don't need to them to respect me on Monday by wearing a suit or jacket. Also consider that I like to play up the role of Hot Second Wife so it needs to be tight.

BCBG Max Azria obliged me with this fitted cotton jersey dress, knee-length so I don't look like he picked me up from a trailer park, beige so I blend in, tight so I don't.

The only trouble with a tight jersey dress in beige is nipples.

"Nipples are a problem?" you ask (if you have a Y chromosome).

Yes. Not only do they like to poke out and say "Well, Hello and Howdy Doo!" especially while under the influence of air conditioning, they also show through any light-colored or sheer material. While I enjoy my role as Hot Second Wife, I don't want to look like Trashy Third Wife, okay?

For some of you amateurs, the solution seems simple: Wear a bra you, hippie.

To you I would say: You can't wear a bra under tight cotton jersey, you fashion nitwit. I have worked out with a personal trainer at 6:00 a.m. for a year so I don't need to wear foundation garments, okay? I don't want anything poking out. Not my nipples. Not my underwire bra.

As I saw it, I had two choices:

Breast petals. Yes, those are flower-shaped band-aids women put on their nipples.


Chicken cutlets. Yes, those are adhesive silicon boobs women stick on their chests.

My first instinct was to go with the breast petals. I did try them on with the dress and they did work. But the dress is so simple and the top does nothing to help a girl out in the Busty McGhee department. I felt I needed a little extra "oomph" to balance out the rest of the dress.

Though I had some concerns with the adhesive chicken cutlets. I had a dance floor incident a number of years ago. Suffice it to say: Hot summer night + Sweaty dancing = Chicken cutlets on the dance floor. Fortunately I had mastered The Bend and Snap from repeated viewings of Legally Blonde, so I knew how to retrieve my cutlets with panache.

Or so it seemed after a few martinis. For all I know I am still a legend at that club. Upon further reflection, I think "Chicken Cutlets on the Dance Floor" should be Lady Gaga's next hit song.

Since I knew there would be no sweaty dancing at the law partner house party, I slapped a pair of chicken cutlets under the dress and enjoyed the evening. As it turned out, I was appropriately dressed and the husband was appropriately appreciative. Business and marital success, now that's a hard-working dress.

After the party, my husband I went out because you don't go home when you have a babysitter. You go out to dinner and gaze at each other across a table for a few more hours. So you're in the mood to make another baby, duh.

He looked hot with the salt-and-pepper flecks in his hair complementing his gray suit. I have a gray hair and man-in-a-business suit fetish so this was practically porn to me. I noticed that he was staring at my chest throughout dinner and presumed it was because I looked hot.

"So tell me. What do you have in your bra?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" I looked at him, affronted.

"Did you put something in your bra?" he paused. "I mean, I noticed you're looking 'fuller,'" he said, opening and closing his hands.

"You can't ask me that!" I said, my voice getting higher.

You see, my husband and I have an understanding. Or so I thought. We believe in marital secrets. We believe in marital secrets such as shutting the bathroom door. We believe in not enacting bodily functions within each other's earshot or airspace. We believe in pretending that none of that unsavory stuff even happens. At all. Hell, we each pretend that we're the only people we've slept with even though to believe so is to believe in at least four immaculate conceptions. But we're fine with that. Anything to keep romance alive and mystery is a great friend to romance. Familiarity is not.

"Why not? I'm your husband. I want to know. What do you have going on in there?" He waved his hand in my chest's general vicinity.

I thought it over. Though I was compelled to comply with my husband's wishes and I do agree with complete transparency in our relationship when it's requested, I was hesitant to invite him behind the green curtain of Mandy's Cosmetic Tricks and Witchery.

I had just recently bragged to friends about how my husband had no knowledge of my use of Spanx® or chicken cutlets in seven years of attending black tie events together. Despite the fact that he would routinely remove my clothes upon our return home, I was cagey enough to have slipped the chicken cutlets and the Spanx into my purse before leaving any venue. Yes, I am that premeditated when it comes to sex. Besides, whose going to notice one lady losing a cup size by the end of a wine-soaked fundraising event?

"It's a chicken cutlet," I finally admitted with a sigh.

"Is that like a rubber thing you put in your bra?"

"Yes. Sort of." I stared at the Romance-Slayer to see what he would say next.

"You should have let your nips out. That would've been hotter." He looked at me, amused, and went back to eating his dinner. I stared at him and felt the shame that only a woman with a pair of silicon breast decoys sticking to her chest can know.

Okay, not really. But I still slipped them off in the car on the way home.


  1. Too funny! Hubby seems to catch me in the act of "marital secrets." Like when I'm putting Spanx on, he opens the bathroom door.

    I'll need you to write a post on how to avoid this. You seem to have it down pat!

  2. 1. Calling them chicken cutlets is hilarious, and dead on the money. Making a note, in case I ever need them in the future!
    2. I admire you for having a smoking hot body, and for doing what it takes to maintain it!
    3. My husband went Spanx shopping with me for my dress for the Emmys. So much simpler, and genuinely loving, too! No secrets (that I know of!) after 23 years and two miscarriages, two childbirths, 4 parental deaths, and husbandly heart surgery, and we like it like that.

  3. @Michon: Interesting. I'm envisioning an entire series of inappropriate "How-To"s.

    @Susan: Perhaps after only a year and a half of marriage, we are sure to see many of our secrets fall to the wayside as we approach 23 years! If we should be so lucky.

  4. I've given up wearing bras, but I probably would have tried to cover them up somehow. Ahhhh, who knows, who knows. The women here in NYC sort of have a small group of us who let our nips out for free views, we just don't give a fuck.

  5. @AdAstra: My husband would like us to move to NYC.

  6. Admit it. Your husband likes to wear the chicken cutlets too.

  7. Anyone who can make me bellylaugh in the middle of an endless and fruitless job search probably should have their own column.

    Or cable show. Are you listening, media moguls?

    You are only too funny. Thank you for sharing, Ms. Mandy.

  8. @Wow: That is not one of my fetishes so I'm deleting your comment and blocking you.

    @La Piazza: You are obviously a man of good taste and superior mental abilities. You should be hired immediately if the universe has any sense of decency.

  9. Oh to be able to go braless...
    (o)(o)And i thought chicken cutlets were the things you stuck in your bra not was a type of bra. That pic confuses me! They have them with adhesive now? Ouch.

  10. @SweetHerald: They have both and they've had them for a while now. You probably don't pay attention to the intricacies of bra stuffers because you don't need them.

  11. Hahahaha so I'm at work, I mean, on break of course, and this guy next door brought his 10 year old daughter over so she could play with my dog. So now she's sitting beside me playing with my phone and I totally read this and here are these chicks with their tits hanging out and I'm like, "OMG she's going to think I'm a lesbian child rapist." hahaha. SCROLL SCROLL SCROLL SCROLL.
    PS I hate pasties. Those fuckers NEVER work on me. I don't have the uh... buoyancy... that's necessary to pull those off plus they just don't make them in my size. I can't imagine even TRYING the chicken cutlets.

  12. Oh jesus. And I re-read that and was like, "OMFG now lesbians are going to think I'm homophobic and think they're child molesters!!"
    Just for the record I do not think that lesbians are child molesters.
    I'm so going to get hate mail anyway, I know it.

  13. Are you serving chicken cutlets at your BBQ? Not sure how I feel about them now.

  14. @Cake Betch: The silicon numbers are definitely high risk. As is reading my blog with children, apparently.

    @Cary: I think of the fake boob chicken cutlets every time I see real chicken cutlets.

  15. We are so the opposite! There are no marital secrets in our neck of the woods. Not saying that's a good thing by the way... :)) I tried chicken cutlets and they did not work for me. I can't even use a strapless bra, they end up as belts, the girls need straps to heft them up and they aren't even that big. *sigh*

  16. Mandy, super hot hot dress!

    Hilarious post too. I love that you have marital secrets. Everyone should. It is also known as just privacy.

    I have the cutlets and hate them. Nips are sexy, so if you got it rock it!

  17. *closes bathroom door*

  18. Wait wait- wasn't this the then-boyfriend/now-husband you described your... um...

    Nevermind. MySpace days should stay in the past.

    I applaud your smokin' hot bod and laughed heartily at your shame.

  19. A. I love that he "opened and closed his hands" when looking at your boobs. Men...

    B. I think you should've gone to the bathroom immediately and given him nips in the restaurant.

    Cute dress, by the way.

  20. See I TOTALLY would have gone with the nipples. OF course I have found my self strangely attracted to camel toe on occasion as well. ;-)

  21. I'm a complete virgin, but I figured I still had some cred on this issue. My Spanx is a long tube top. Fits from over the boobs to mini-skirt length. It's the perfect undergarment for a beige dress. If you can't have that, I choose chicken petals.

  22. Mandy, I wasn't sure how to contact you and the rest of the old MySpace crew. So, I apologize for just leaving this comment, which you can delete after reading. I wanted to let you know that Char (from Ramblins') passed away last week. I just found out tonight. Apparently, it was unexpected, but I don't know what happened. She was such a neat lady and I wanted her internet friends to know that she passed. I know they would be concerned when they hadn't heard from her in a while.

    Again, really sorry for leaving this in a comment, but I couldn't find your email.

  23. Full disclosure here, I do indeed have one X and one Y chromosome. Hopefully that doesn't invalidate my opinion, which is:

    I think that perfect hemispheres completely devoid of any natural anatomical hint of the underlying morphology belying the purpose of said mammilla, appears contrived and unnatural.

    Nice breasts under a lovely gown on a beautiful woman, I expect to see a hint of nipple. Otherwise guys will just stare at them and wonder "where are they??"

  24. I would love to be able to wear that dress!

  25. @Eva: I will leave your comment in case any of our mutual friends from the Myspace blogging days see it. I am so sad to hear about Char it's hard to respond without tears. She was a gentle soul, a good friend and she will be missed more than she knows.

  26. A useful little item I have is a set of "cookies" from inside a swimsuit I threw away years ago. They have some kind of clingy foam that sticks nicely to the old mammies.
    Also - what is wrong with getting picked up at the trailer park? ;)

  27. this is so funny....i have actually worn the breast petals for years and would be lost without them....

  28. Why couldn't you have posted this a month ago? I attended a wedding in a dress that no bra in the entire Victoria's Secret collection would have worked with. Instead of enduring a night of "looks like the turkey's done" type comments, I brilliantly decided to tape my poor nips down with scotch tape. Yeah...not recommended.