In general, I go by the rule that fake breasts look great when clothed, but are really not that much fun once you peek behind the curtain.

The thing is, the vast majority of augments are not of the high-quality variety you describe. Most are the result of $2k specials advertised in the back of LA Weekly and are for the sole purpose of beefing up a recipient's earning power as dancer/stripper/actress (note - all professions where appearance can be further enhanced by dim lighting and makeup).

Indeed, one need only visit awfulplasticsurgery.com to see how the telltale signs of augmentation on some of our most well-regarded celebrities can easily de-juice a stiffy.

Final word from me on this - as a 31 year old male, I am firmly ensconsed in the "slim/athletic/nice ass" camp and will gladly cede all oversized mamaries to the "big hooters at all costs" lobby.

For this boy, enhanced breasts are a deal breaker. I hate them. It's nothing to do with size, it's just that they look bizarre and unnatural.

I also hate tattoos, piercings, shaved genitals, short hair, permanently bitchy expressions, visible thongs, and basically the whole currently trendy slut-glam look.

What I find encouraging is that for every look, there is a man who worships it. Todd Fletcher doesn't like short hair, but the guy I'm dating? Loves it. Clearly there are ways to make yourself more attractive to the general population, but I like to know there's a market for every niche.

An old friend (who's also a psychiatrist) once told me he didn't care whether they were real or fake. All he cared about was whether they were big, juicy, round, and suckable.

But, what's your impression when a woman walks into a room with them? In, say, business, and other realms? Do you think less of her? Do you think more of her?

Amy -

In legal cirlces, there is a certain downtown firm known for the unusually large number of incoming first year female attorneys that annually deposit their signing bonuses towards cosmetic surgery. I wouldn't go as far so to say that this trend affects other lawyers' perception of the new(ly enanced) attorneys, but it certainly gives rise to a fair amount of snickering.

I think they can look pretty hideously unnatural on some drag queens.

No offense meant toward Lena!

F.

In a business or professional situation, I try not to make too much of a judgement about a woman regardless of her breasts (whether real or fake), unless there's something unprofessional about her overall demeanor. I might, however, be unduly distracted if they look especially nice or especially awful.

In a social setting, I don't know that I would necessarily think less of them, after all, I believe that a person should have the right to do as they like with their bodies, but I pretty much always have the underlying thought about why they would choose to do it.

Some number of years ago, my girlfriend at the time had gotten implants (before I met her) and after a short period of getting used to them, I never really thought about it. She was a beautiful woman, and certainly was just as beautiful without the implants, and her reason was that she did it to attract men, which makes some sort of sense, I suppose. I wouldn't consider fakes to a deal breaker, since for me, breast size isn't a primary consideration on my part in finding a woman attractive, but I prefer them real.

I'm really disturbed by the whole idea of fake breasts. I guess I was raised by a feminist and like the idea of self-esteem being sexy instead of pandering to something fake. I've dated skinny women with boyish breasts and women with large ones, and I can say it was who they are that was attractive, not their hooters. I'd rather have a wicked gleam in the eye than a pair of silicone mammaries any day.

Tit talk! This is great!

Fake tits in line at the bank are like Hispanic teenagers driving past with thumping woofers in their rice cars... It earns your glance, because the cerebellum is compelled to process these fundamental novelties in the environment. By the the time the event reaches consciousness in the cortex, it's just pathetic.

All plastic surgery is like that.

I'm not a connoisseur of feminine beauty, OK? (I had to look up the spelling of connoisseur.) But like every other person on the planet, I watch faces, especially pretty girls, no matter how old they get.

Last week I went to a fabulous, dramatically lit, super-trendy party in Beverly Hills. The hors d'oeuvres were excellent. (I had to look up the spelling of hors d'oeuvres.)

It was a wrap party for a game show. The early-20's wannabe actresses who were handing out those handsome snacks had all had plastic surgery! In their early 20's! You couldn't always tell what had been done, but you'd look at 'em and just know that seven grams of flesh had been deducted above the neck. And the women were pretty, but none were stunning. There's no doubt that they were just as pretty before the surgery, and that none would be in showbiz in 2012 no matter what their drunken patrons (calling themselves 'producers') were going to promise.

Seekers, This is beyond vanity. It's LUNACY. And after the 35th birthday, it's doesn't come off as just a strange omission of body fat... It looks like reconstruction. Women who try to look younger through plastic surgery invariably look like accident victims. What happened, honey, an 18-wheeler unexpectedly changing lanes on the freeway, or maybe a collapsing staircase?

Same with tits, and jet-black hair on people over 30. Nothing like that actually grows on anybody. It's like a badly-balanced checkbook.

I like big tits. No, I like any tits. No, just big ones. No, slender, athletic ones. No, old, joyous ones. No, young, fertile ones.

Allright whatever, just promise me nobody ever cut into them with a knife and inserted polymers developed at MIT.

Tits!

Thanks! Thank you very, very much.

Russ -

If you want to see something really disturbing, try watching "Dr. 90210" one of these days. Every week, you'll find a new batch of women looking for enhancements nominally "to boost their self-condfidence," which sadly often translates into: "because my girlfriends have them."

One sickening episode featured three drop-dead gorgeous sisters go in for the process together. According to one of them, "well if they were going to get it done, why not me?" They then proceeded to sell their surgeries to the camera as a family experience "we could all share together as sisters." Uh, OK.

The truly shocking part was how everyone on the show, from the creepy pin-striped surgeon on down to the eager husbands and boyfriends acted like they were all part of the same cult. "This is going to be fantastic amazing experience." There wasn't a single voice of dissent. Not even from a parent.

Centuries from now, I envision anthropologists digging up our women's bones and noting in their textbooks - "silicone sacks stapled to clavicle -form of penal torture or social indicator of affluence and beauty? More research required."

I'm with you, Crid. Those reconstructed faces look just weird. And there's one type of plastic surgery that has been the provinces of the "femmes d'une certaine age" -- that cat-face thing -- except now, as you've noted, "a certain age" is, in many cases, 22.

I have to check out that show, Snake. Scary.

The other thing is, go ahead if you've got cancer and need reconstruction or something -- but this is major surgery. Major elective surgery. And somebody told me the new softer kind of fake boobies have to be surgically replaced every 20 years. Dunno about you, but I'm scared shitless when I get a shot.

> if you've got cancer and need
> reconstruction or something

Exactly! Fools and children will stare at people with scars. A few years ago I resolved to pull as many thousands out of my savings as possible to hire a plastic surgeon IMMEDIATELY for any friend who suffered a disfiguring accident, because they say that it's important to move quickly in those hours. And if you can help a friend get stared at for two seconds instead of seven, it's money well spent.

But just for getting older, or for being plain?

Sorry buddy, you're on your own.

Not to mention that cosmetic surgery is still, well...surgery, with all of the inherent risks. A good friend's sister (35 years old) died last year three days after a "routine" tummy tuck. She was home from the hospital, and threw a clot in her sleep and died from a pulmonary embolism. No surgery for me unless it's the life-saving variety.

Fake tits look fine, especially if they're lubed up and squeezed around a big, fat, throbing COCK.

Snakeman and Crid pretty much sum up the way I feel. I personally don't like the way fake ones look or feel, but it doesn't change the way I feel about any of the girls I know who have had the surgery done. I like all types of females, short, tall, fat, skinny, smart, thoughtful, girls who like themselves and can take care of themselves. As for my first 3 or 4 seconds, superficial look at a girl opinion, I'll take a size A, well toned, athletic looking girl, with a friendly smile over a flashy looking, porn-type girl, (no matter what size her fake breast are) any time.

Okay, my legs are still crossed after reading about the "vaginal reconstruction" and now I have to think about breast implants you have to change like flat tires? Ouch, already.

What I'm curious about Amy, is if you've ever had someone assume yours are fake because you're a little thing, and from what you've said, your breasts aren't. I'm pretty busty, and I've most certainly seen that "Oh, those must be fake" look. They're not, and I actually try to hide them.

Is it something you've ever had to deal with? And if so, how did you?

As long as your not knocking people over with your Dolly Partons every time you turn around, what do I care?

Sure, people have speculated, "Is your rack real." (To know whether it is for sure, look at the size of the bra strap going across her back.) Real ones, when they're big, can't be held up by the stringy lycra bits they sell at Victoria's Secret, protestations of special support designs notwithstanding.

When they ask me if they're real, I generally just grab one of my boobs and cold-cock them, then they know for sure. But, actually, I think it's pretty evident in most cases. If you're 5'2" and Asian, it's unlikely your genetics tend toward the Busty Juggs variety of boobage. If you're jogging at the gym, and the titties aren't moving...fake!

My current GF has a very nice pair of after-market bolt-ons.I actually would have talked her out of it had I been around at the time,but c'est la vie.Anyway, they are very fun to play dress-up with and all,and having her walk around the house in a t shirt is very enticing,they just kind of smile at me.Conclusion: I have learned to accept them as part of the package and she is a wonderful woman.

I must be insensitive, can't tell when I'm looking at plastic surgery.

Barbara Walters' face is, of course, an exception.

I must be insensitive, can't tell when I'm looking at plastic surgery.

Barbara Walters' face is, of course, an exception.

I think in general, guys don't care--they like looking at a nice rack, no matter the origin. On the other hand, when a guy is really into a woman, he's not caring too much about cup size, although it's good if she's got a Wonderbra on when they go out in public.) I've gleaned this info from having too much down time with camera crews.
But what men really hate is women who have the bodacious tat-tas, out there for all the world to see in a tight or low-cut shirt, and then get pissed when men stare at them. Cuz that's demeaning.

my current/ex-girlfriend (she gave up sex for lent like a good baptist girl) has got some fake titties. it's my first first-hand experience with them. i have to say i like them, although they are a little hard for my tastes.

i definitely have standards, physically speaking, which are too high for my current locale, but the real reason i've been distressingly celibate is because i also need a woman to stimulate my brain as well.

anyway, in terms of what i'm attracted to physically, i'll never sacrifice size for perkiness; if that means the titties are fake, that's ok as long as they're not there to make up for deficiencies in her personality.

i'm not one to judge, because my hair cost more than most fake racks do. of course, my hair certainly doesn't make all the women stare at me when i walk into a room; you ladies have it easy.

and lena, you sound like my kinda gal!

> lena, you sound like my kinda gal!

Oh my.

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