Godammit, I’m Mad!

Have you noticed lately that there’s no escape from boobs? Every other fashion editorial sneaks in a model’s boob, if not complete nudity. Is this the Terry Richardsonization of fashion photography, or just the continuing of The End Of Innocence brought about by the internet?

I like to see beautiful nudes, but sometimes I’m just not in the mood. Sometimes, I just want to see the clothes, or the make-up, or the photography in a fashion layout. I want to have a choice about seeing boobs.

I was saddened by a photo at Susie’s blog, showing an older gray-haired model who still had to show her boob. I guess this was a win for feminism or agism. For me, it was a reminder that boobs have become de rigueur in fashion. Everyone must be willing to expose their boobs.

I’ve probably posted photos with boobs in them but from now on, this will be a boob-free zone, unless the subject is specifically boobs.

A beautiful way to not see boobs is the handmade silver pasties above, by Leah Ball, who just got funding for her Pasties Project. Yay for Leah!

I have been reading about neurochemistry and the effect of serotonin on relationships, and some new studies suggest that antidepressants are not the free lunch some of us were hoping for.

Not only do the SSRI drugs dampen the libido, they can fuck up your relationships. They can even inhibit the neurochemical activities that are involved in romantic love.

This is a little alarming. Many of my friends and enemies are on one or more antidepressants, and we are all authorities on which ones are energizing (Welbutrin) or sedating (Remeron). We know which ones are too constipating (Cymbalta) and which ones have the worst withdrawal symptoms (Effexor.)

Most of us are less interested in sex than we used to be, but many of us are lucky enough to have partners who will rise to the challenge. They know that if we stopped taking our meds, we’d be impossible to live with, so our increased sex drive would be a moot point.

While reading about the biochemistry of love and attraction, though, I was happy to see my own theory of female sexuality confirmed: It’s all about oxytocin.

As long as we’re secreting oxytocin (which is stimulated by breastfeeding and orgasm) we are driven to connect and nurture. Oxytocin leads us to form bonds, basically. Any woman who has nursed a baby can tell you this. Oxytocin equals bliss. When male voles are given a shot of oxytocin, they want to be clingy and monogamous. When autistic people are given oxytocin via a nasal spray, they are better able to make eye contact. It even increases trust and empathy.

Here is the important part, men: If you pay more attention to our boobs, this will make us love you more, and continue to love you without straying. It will make everything better. When you come home from work, don’t complain about the traffic and how much you hate your job. Instead, play with your partner’s boobs!

Back to the SSRI problems, I don’t know what the long-term effect on our society will be if no one wants sex and people stop falling in love. Maybe we’ll adapt somehow, or maybe we’ll decide it’s better to be depressed because we hate ourselves than be resilient but sexually numb.

In any case, let’s all make sure that everyone’s boobs are properly attended to, and that everyone keeps taking their meds until reality is more tolerable in larger doses.