ExposedNYC

It really is a strange tradition. Think about it, on any other given night if a man approached you and asked you to lift up your skirt for, say, a new Barbie outfit you’d laugh outright in his face. But on a day designated for the celebration of sin, all rules are thrown out the door and women everywhere bare their breasts in hopes of a plastic trinket.

I do get that there is an element of exhibitionism inherent in the act. For many women it’s not so much about the prize but the thrill of being desired, or the competition of how many beads they can collect. I don’t begrudge them the act, I just find it intriguing.

I also like the idea, in a culture where celebrities and models alike are shrinking before our eyes, that we have a ritual, however juvenile, celebrating well-endowed women. Although, most guys I’ve seen out on Fat Tuesday aren’t picky- they’re like Dr. Seuss and they’ll take a look at big ones, small ones, short ones, tall ones…

But, amidst all the fun, I implore you ladies, negotiate a little bit. In the age of camera phones, we’ve all seen the damage a night of “bad behavior” can do on a girl’s reputation. Consider whether it’s worth a set of purple and green balls that will no doubt leave an imprint in your skin when you’re too tired to take them off before stumbling into bed, and just end up in the garbage tomorrow morning.

All in all, just make sure that you realize that you have complete control over your bargaining price. I admit it. I’ve fallen for the excitement. I was twenty-one, made the guy buy me a drink first, and won a string of hand-painted harlequin faces that I couldn’t resist.

Just one caution- if the guy is wearing a “Girls Gone Wild” t-shirt or carrying a camcorder, run quickly in the opposite direction. Unless of course you want every frat boy in the country, along with your little brother and his friends, to get a look at your goods.

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