Jiggle Bells
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Do you like the sight of jiggly boobs?
If the answer is yes, the chances are that you live in a country where to see such a thing is pretty rare. Therefore when you see one you all go berserk.
I come from a place where breasts have been jiggling in abundance ever since I remember. Hell, when I became old enough and grew myself a set of boobs, I became one of the jigglers myself. Women roamed the streets braless back in those days, they were beautiful and free, and men felt they lived in Heaven, for their eyes feasted on plentiful bouncy, round bosoms day after day.
Imagine a place where hundreds of thousands of women from high schools, universities, offices, and workplaces of all kind got out in the afternoon, and the city was suddenly flooded with gorgeous boobies of all shapes and sizes, all free, bouncy and jiggly.
No, this isn't a fantasy. It's Budapest, Hungary in the '80 -'90s.
I was in full bloom at the time, along with millions of other women, enjoying the freedom of bralessness in all its glory. You know, sometimes I talk about all this to the guys I work with, and they look at me with raised eyebrows. So many women without bras? How strange.
Strange? Oh, you guys don't know what you are missing.
Can you imagine a more beautiful sight than a pretty woman walking towards you on the street, her face glowing in the sunlight, her hair gently blowing in the breeze, and her breasts freely moving under that thin, summer blouse she's wearing? As she gets closer you can even glimpse a pair of perky nipples trying to burst through the silk.
You think it's strange? I think it's gorgeous.
It's the most perfect thing in the world. I tell you, I'm a woman myself, but the thought of such a sight dries even my throat for a few moments.
We haven't seen such beauty ever since we came to Canada.
Women here are pretty attached to their bras, even in the biggest summer heat. Wearing it is a tradition, something that little girls actually look forward to as they are getting older, and as soon as they grow themselves two little mosquito bites they begin to make every effort to cover those tiny beauties up.
The first time we went shopping in a department store after we immigrated here, we saw those tiny bras on the shelves, and my husband and I spent a few minutes trying to figure out what "training bras" meant. What or who exactly is getting trained here, and for what reason? Little did we know back then that we immigrated into a jiggle-less society.
What can I say, we could never really get used to it. A walk on the street on a beautiful summer day was not as exciting anymore as it used to be, boobs seemed to have been banned here, they were all either hidden under big, baggy shirts, or slowly withering away in their nicely decorated, lacy or padded prisons.
My husband is unconsolable about it even today.
Every year he can barely wait for our annual trip back to the old country, where he can feast his eyes on all the gorgeous sights Hungarian ladies have to offer. But I'm afraid the future looks pretty bleak there as well. Things are changing. With communism gone, the western lifestyle came in, and it brought with it western fashion that changed the way women dress today. Less and less of them opt for a braless existence these days, the arrival of the huge selection of ladies' underwear, and sexy lingerie changed the outlook of the city forever.
Every year we go we see less and less jiggle, and more and more tightly controlled bandages around women's chest. Boobies are losing their innocence. Before they were in such abundance, it was perfectly natural to let them loose and allow them to bounce around as they please, but these days the free ones are attracting too much unwanted attention. As the number of sexy, visible bosoms is slowly decreasing every day, millions of jiggle starved male eyes hungrily search for the few still unslaved mammary glands, knowing that their days of free thrills have been numbered.
There is fear in the air. Desperation.
I'm observing all this with a great deal of sadness.
As the jiggle slowly dies out, so does our innocence. Sometimes I decide to fight it, and go braless myself in a vain effort to show my true devotion to the old tradition, but the truth is, I don't quite jiggle like I used to 15 years ago. And I can't fight this alone. All of us, who believe in the freedom of all boobies need to stand up, and fight against the imprisonment of our bouncy bosoms! We must liberate them, so they can all do what they were meant to do: please, excite, thrill, amaze and arouse.
We must save the jiggle from dying out. Save it, or our lives will never be the same.
Ladies, please do your part! Toss your bras and enjoy the freedom! Go jiggle!
Or bear the consequences.
Ildiko Giczi has given us the best holiday gift yet!