The 1994 Wonderbra campaign remains a legend in advertising circles. Cars came to a screeching halt across the U.K. when their drivers first saw the slogan “Hello Boys” and then copped an eyeful of Eva Herzigova’s cleavage staring down at them from roadside billboards.
When it comes to marketing though, it’s not the featured model who counts but the fantasy that the male or female audience entertains about her. The male fantasy of a perfect, sustainable cleavage is just that-a fantasy.
I’ve heard confessions from male friends about bad experiences they’d had with women who wore push-up bras after the Wonderbra was copied by every underwear manufacturer there ever was. Those guys lived their dream of idealised breasts, divided by a neat cleavage, right up until they undid the bra-straps for themselves, pulled the cups free and watched gravity do the rest. It was like being cheated, they said. They were promised something that couldn’t be delivered, they went on.
I tried to be sympathetic, I really did, but for any woman, like me, who has had to do the “pencil test” just to find out whether they can legitimately go braless in public-sympathy was a little hard to come by. I had to explain the pencil test to the same guys, of course.
The tester lifts a breast, places a pencil under it, and releases the breast. If the pencil falls down, she can go braless (under a shirt of course). If the pencil is held firmly in place by the weight of her breast, she really should wear a bra.
I already knew that I could go braless, but finding a great cleavage was harder to achieve as I was taking great pains with a demanding exercise program, eating more healthily than ever and meditating regularly. I was shocked when I tried on some lingerie and discovered that my breasts had gone down from a B cup to an A.
After I obtained a selection of bras in my new size, I was delighted to find that I had an absolutely killer cleavage; better than Eva, better than silicone.
Photos by Yuky.