The Pencil Test

[Credit where it's due: bottom picture is me; the two on the top, courtesy Google.]

Some of you may have heard of this, but maybe not. A long time ago, like, in the '50s, this Chicago Sun-Times newspaper columnist named Ann Landers (it was a pen name, and the role of this fictitious advice columnist has had many women behind it over the years), was asked a question about boobies. I haven't been able to track down the original article, but hey, Wikipedia is awesome, and as far as I can tell, it had to do with some newspaper reader asking at what point her daughter should wear a bra. 

Now, when I was growing up, most moms would get their daughters bras right off the bat. "Training bras" were that sort of coming-of-age ushering-in that, I suppose, is a relatively recent innovation. I don't guess they were the social norm in the '50s (and shit, have you seen bras from the '50s? They're like weird pyramids), so Landers's response was something a bit more refined than, "Ummm... I dunno. Take a pencil, and stick it in your underboob. If it falls out, you don't need a bra. If the underboob folds [ptosis, for the anatomy geeks out there] holds the pencil, that means you need a bra." To clarify, I'm not talking about stabbing a boob or anything — just the ol' horizontal tuck-in hold-up. 

Maybe it's just me, but on the surface, this seems a little superficial, not a good telltale of whether a bra is necessary, and kooky in that way that only the 1950s could be kooky. 

But, it entered the zeitgeist in the years since and, needless to say, it's had a couple of revisitations that border on pretty-darned gooberish. Back in the '70s, a student senator at the University of Texas was filibustered (she had to eventually be removed from one of the very highest legislative bodies in the Lone Star State) for her insistence that a university-wide dress code not be enforced: one that included bra-wearing to be mandatory if your tiddies could hold a pencil under them. Note: I have been unable to determine how, exactly, this could be verified on a case-by-case basis, so I'll just assume it's The Man bringing down the largely knocker-ed ladies of the world. (Also, how un-collegiate in a modern context!)

And then, references in popular culture. Movies, TV shows, more than a few magazine articles, and, I'm sure, the notion being passed from generation to generation. I think it even makes the meme circuit from time to time. 

The thing that bothers me about it is, mostly, contextual. As the rule goes: if the pencil falls, you've "passed" the pencil test; if your boob holds it in place, you've "failed." Failed? Failed what? It's no secret that there is an ongoing discussion about what beauty standards mean, though I'll certainly not be the first to jump into the fray over something as (relatively) innocuous as an arcane response in 60-year-old advice column. 

So what if a woman has boobs that can hold up a pencil? Before I got these boobs, mine certainly could. They were saggy, saggy fuckers. I didn't give a shit. Playboy tells the guys differently, however. And for the women, Cosmopolitan will be happy to tell us "101 Ways That Unexpectedly Jamming Your Finger Into a Guy's Butthole Will Make Him Happy"  (And then, on the next page, an advertorial titled, "God, Your Boobs Are Hideous and Never Forget That (But Here's a Product That Can Help!). Yay, magazines. 

So, I skip over this nonsense. I do what I can. I say, "fuck that mess," and embrace it. I'm not going to hold myself prisoner over this consumerist bullshit that favors androgyny almost exclusively — and, if you're plus-size in any way, you get a specialty category and a "you-go-girl" pat on the head. 

Do I fail the pencil test? Fuck yes, I do. The "baton test?" Of course! Do I fail the "golf club test?" Haven't tried, but probably! How about the "broomstick test?!" ...Hence the above pic. :-D Failed the shit out of that. I ain't ashamed. Big Fat "F," and proud of it. 

Suck it, Landers. Since you were a fictional woman in the first place and never actually existed, I have no ill will about throwing some shade: you probably had tiny boobs, and you were just jealous. So... I wonder what other tests I might fail. Landers.

You know what? Since I've got quite the hefty collection of boob-admiring deviants hanging around ... (I can't believe I'm gonna ask this, but let's stick it to the man!) ... any suggestions?