A few weeks ago I did my usual saunter past my husband in my snug jeans before I headed out to meet with my friends for dinner. I do a little wiggle, then say, “So how does my ass look in these jeans?” He says, “Nice and flat”
“What? I’ll have you know I was voted ‘nicest ass’ in high school.”
He laughed and said, “Are you sure you didn’t leave it there?”
Don’t get me wrong; my man loves my tushie. It’s just that we will do the banter dance whenever we learn something quirky about each other. It’s our way of keeping each other grounded. So in this case, he likes to throw it back at me whenever I mention my “high school badge of honor”.
I didn’t find out about this “label” until I was in my early twenties, while being out on the town with a few high school friends. Of course the conversation always goes back to the good ole days. One friend says, “I see you still wear your title proudly.” Puzzled, I said, “What title?” She laughed and said, “Don’t you remember being voted nicest ass in high school?” My other friend then piped up, saying, “Oh, yeah, that was common knowledge around school.” I was shocked at what I was hearing.
Sure, I’ve always had guys comment about my butt, but I didn’t know that a “best ass” stamp was branded on me during my high school years.
Well, at least my rump made an impact, considering I never had a date during those years. I guess closely resembling Dustin Hoffman’s Tootsie would be a setback in anyone’s love life. With my tight curly perm, bad make-up and don’t forget the HUGE glasses – which I can now fondly look back on and refer to as being my form of birth control.
During those school years, it was standard procedure for us to find creative ways to paint on our jeans. My personal favorite was lying on my bed and using a fork to pull up my zipper. The motto back in those days was “the tighter the better.” It just didn’t matter how much discomfort we were in, just as long as we looked good in our second skin.
After finding out about this prestigious title, I thought it was only right that I wear it well. So I did my very best to take good care of my most recognized asset – wearing all the right clothing to accentuate my curves and I welcomed the compliments. I exercised regularly – working hard at keeping my lovely lady humps plump.
A few years ago, after stepping out of my morning shower – I caught a glimpse of my naked side profile, and that’s when my life changed forever. I quickly put on my glasses and wiped the steam off the mirror so I could get a better look at this earth-shattering moment that left me so crushed.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The sizzle had fizzled!!! My once bodacious bubble butt had deflated. It seemed to have melted into the back of my thighs. What, when, why, where and how? kept spinning in my head. It was like – one day.. “Baby’s got back” and then….“poof,” it was gone.
I did all the right things to keep it “up and out” but somewhere along the way it must of sprang a slow leak and left me as I graduated into my forties.
It’s easy for me to accept the inevitable – to see my boobs lose their shape and make their way south. With today’s bra technology, I can still create the illusion of my once perky breasts without considering surgery.
I also accept the changes I see in my face – skin not as plump, becoming dry, and the fine lines starting to creep in. But to lose my full backside…well, that just wasn’t as easy to accept. Maybe because it was a part of me that really resonated with my youth – having that special something that I won a prize for and I just don’t want to give it up.
Butt…can I get back what I lost?
I’m as curious as a cat so I had to investigate what options are out there for those who are looking for a little extra cushioning when exercising can only do so much.
There are “shape enhancers” – underwear with padding. I wonder if I can get padding the size of Jennifer Lopez’s humps? More than likely that would be a custom order.
The good news is, the pads are removable – wash and wear. Maybe I can do an “R&R” – rotate and recycle. After the padding gets used and abused from covering my backside, I guess I can then use them as inserts in my bra for when deflation really sets in.
I also did a little digging about butt implants (or, to use the proper terminology, buttock augmentation). I squirm in my seat as I write about this unusual surgery.
The incision is made where the cheek meets the back of the thigh, or down the buttock crease. The doctor then creates pockets large enough to insert the butt implants. The recovery is very painful and can lead to a long healing time. There’s also the high risk of repetitive surgeries due to implant shifting or deflation.
After reviewing these not-so-natural remedies, I think its best that I just accept my “little” tushie just the way it is. I will learn to love and cherish it just as much as my butt from the past.
Now when I put on my snug jeans to go out with my friends for cocktails and dancing, its no longer shake my bon bon…it’s ..shake what’s long gone. Sure, I still get the odd compliment. But it’s no longer “you’ve got a great ass.” It’s more like “you’ve got a cute little butt.” I figure that a compliment is a compliment – I’ll start to worry when I no longer get any.