Frank Magazine Issue 600.pdf - Besthostingplanever.com

BIGGER & BETTER BARB
BY DAN WALSH
BARB STEGEMANN’S MAGNIFICENT SELF-
OBSESSION TOME, THE 7 VIRTUES OF A
PHILSOPHER QUEEN, ENDS ITS 199-PAGE
ODYSSEY WITH A LESSON SOME ARE NOW
CLAIMING IS ANCIENT HISTORY: THE TITIL-
LATING TALE OF HER TINY TA-TAS.
Some are now wondering if Barb’s hankering
for heftier hooters - in her 2008 book, the bodyimage
conscious scribe confesses, “There was
a time when I was considering having implants”
— has suddenly translated into falsies for the
Philosopher Queen.
While I’m hearing that it was earlier this year
when Barb’s bust busted out, her literary big
boob brooding begins with the following axiom:
“As women, we often scrutinize our breasts.”
(Not half as much as most men I know. — ed.)
With Sex In The City-like candor, Babs blabs,
“And for those of us who have had children,
often they just don’t look the same as they did
before. I know I went from a full B to less than
an A!”
Barb’s mesmerising mammary musings continue:
“Many of my friends had had (implants)
and were so happy with the results. I continue
to grapple with this idea of beauty and wondered
for myself, whose idea of beauty is that?”
Unbosoming her bosom, Barb writes, “I have
been so supportive of my friends’ decisions and
wondered if this would work for me. Until one
day, I saw myself in my true beauty.”
Reading more like a passage from De Sade
than Sartre, Barb has an epiphany when she
spies herself in the mirror, “with cleanser all
over me, my hair (in) a mess,” while cleaning
her bathroom in an old dress.
“Oddly, I noticed how my chest closely resembled
that of a ballerina. The ability to vaguely
see the ribs on my barrel chest looked so much
like a dancer’s chest,” she explains in a sentence
that likely made Strunk & White spin in
their respective graves. (Who dey? — ed.)
“That night when I was getting ready to go to
an event, I decided that with such small breasts
I could wear a gorgeous black dress with a
plunging neckline to show off my ballerina chest.
This is something I had never done before.”
She boasts, “I was surprised at how many
compliments I received on my dress and was
surprised by the large-breasted women who
came up to me and said, ‘I wish I could wear a
dress like yours’.”
What does Barb take from all her navel-gazing,
er, melon-gazing? “So, in the end, it dawned
on me. If I believe I am beautiful, and I see the
beauty in its honesty and embrace it for what it
is — so will everyone else. The power resides
in me.”
See — our Barb’s no boob.
Barb, before...
8 ATLANTIC CANADA FRANK DECEMBER 21, 2010
In honour of Barb, and to all the women
who contemplate breast enhancement surgery,
Frankland’s poet laureate proudly unveils
his latest composition: (With apologies to
Hamlet’s eternal quandary)
“To have, or not to have a boob job — that
is the question.
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
the bra strings of outrageous fun-bags,
... and after.
Or to brush up your arms against those
saline bubbles,
and by operating, extend them. Too densetoo
silicone —
no matter —and by silicone’s embrace to
say we end
the heartache of those tiny natural knockers
that flesh is heir to...”