konstantinl Wrote:
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At this stage in the evening I don't really have much more to say about ties, except that they are sort of the male equivalent of bras. Bafflingly expensive for no good reason. At least bras have lacy bits on them and straps and that sort of thing; there's some workmanship there. But a tie is basically just a strip of patterned material and yet they'll charge you £10 for one without a hint of shame. I suppose it's the prestige that I mentioned earlier rather that the actual object that you're buying.
Darrin
The tie, though, is also more versatile than a brassiere. For instance, I have seen many cafe-workers -- women, largely... nay, only women, but my bar-cafe experience has not extended to gheyer venue -- wearing finely-tailored silk neck-ties as belts. Try that with a brassiere... Maybe if you scrunch it into a lacy snake, you can do it, but that basically destroys the integrity of the brassiere, and it can never be worn as either brassiere or belt again.
Similarly, it would be immensely harder to bind a lover with a brassiere than it is to do so with a tie.
Plus, bras have always been kind of ruint for me after seeing Madonna's dual-conic number. Not even the realization that such outlets as Viktor/Viktoria are now using mannequins with nippling to hock their wares has made me able to enjoy a brassiere as much as I did at eleven, in '92, staring longingly at Kathy Ireland in her pink-with-rhinestones bikini on the cover of SI's Swimsuit Issure.
Now, those tie-belted baristas... Ooh la la. Particularly the one whose pants either still hung a bit too low even with belt, or whose underwear (full-backed, but still erection-inducing for the way it hugged the buttocks) were pulled up a bit too high. Seeing her green-trimmed, white-with-floral-print underpants* on her hemispheric behind, even for only seeing about five-eighths of an inch of it, was a stairway to heaven (not yet climbed).
*
Come to think of it, while I prefer a "booty-short", a nice, solid-colour, full-back piece, with polka-dot or other print, is what the sophomore wore on my greatest -- only good? -- moment of university night-life.
np: my tears, as I lament getting the date wrong for "Ska Is Dead" -- no bicurious skanks for me, I suppose -- dayyyyuuuuum