Penny Rutterford came on my ‘Intimate Tour of Breasts’, which she writes about in her blog. So much of what Penny says here chimes with my own experiences (I have my own Kylie poem – a triolet, no less! – she is strangely there, lodged in our collective psyche)
Recently I have been preoccupied with what Kylie Minogue keeps in her bra. I suspect I am not alone, although my motives may be different to most. You see, until I lost a breast to cancer, I had only a passing interest in other women’s tits – because I had a pair of my own. And tits are everywhere. There’s even a new dating programme where partners are chosen from the gradual revelation of each naked body part. I am pleased that breasts of all shapes and sizes are celebrated and admired. However, around 60,000 women in the UK are diagnosed with breast cancer each year, not all of those will have had mastectomies or surgery, but many will. Yet until I faced my own treatment I had never seen a mastectomy scar, a prosthesis, “softie” or reconstructed boob. So, on any street in any town, a small proportion of…
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