Page 39 - Philly Girl

Philly Girl 23

The Truth about Falsies

My flat-chested (but gorgeous) blonde friend Karin and I
spent an entire semester of eighth grade experimenting with
one last hurdle (we thought) that might finally help us reach
our goal of landing a boyfriend—our breasts. Karin and I
acknowledged our common shortcomings when we took a
dance class together in Broadway jazz. We were both good
dancers with long legs and high kicks. But when the top hats
went up on our heads, and the satin vest went down over our
leotards, we looked more like Fred than Ginger. In anticipa-
tion of the class talent show, we took matters into our own
hands—so to speak.
We sewed hooks-and-eyes into our flat-girl training bras
so we could attach our newly purchased “falsies.” In the
locker room, we could put them in or take them out. We
were very secretive, and the other girls never noticed what
we were doing. The boys noticed though! And they were
definitely looking! At the talent show, we filled our satin
vests—and became immediately popular in the days that
followed.
The following summer, Karin grew real breasts. As for
me, at summer camp during a junior lifesaving test, my fals-
ies popped out of my bathing suit. They floated forlornly
next to my assigned “drowning partner” (and crush du jour),
Ricky, whom I was so excited to be “saving.” I had to endure
his knowing smirks for the rest of that summer, and for all
of our subsequent years at that camp.