When I was eighteen or so, I worked at the local library as a page. Pages occupy their time by flirting with each other and restocking books. The restocking cut in on our flirting time, so we resented anyone who
m checked books out. This library job would be great, we agreed, except for these darn people checking out books. Hey! Are you really checking that John Grisham book out? I just restocked that!
In addition to restocking we filled the shelves with the monthly magazines and daily newspapers that hung over the wooden dowels like bath towels. One day, I put all the magazines where they were supposed to go, except for Cosmopolitan. I couldn't find the spot for Cosmo; went right from Cat Fancy to Dog Fancy.
"I can't find where this goes," I complained to a librarian, showing her the Cosmo.
"Oh, we keep that behind the desk," she explained, "People complained. The cover model always has too much cleavage."
Since then I've been keeping my eye on Cosmo. Always just the one breast emphasized, always the hair flying around, always the model lying on the slab of glass in order to be photographed in the gravity-defiant pose.
I though of Cosmo this morning when I glanced at our high-class magazine collection, topped off by the ever-popular Life & Style Weekly, which included a full-on dual breast shot of Heidi Somebody, with the question "HEIDI: ANOTHER BOOB JOB?"
"When did they start putting the word 'BOOB' on magazine covers?" I grouched, "Children see that cover in grocery stores."