There is an endearing quality to the boobs of bogans in BrizVegas. The unabashed presence of buxom cleavage reveals a character of honest intention, free from any hint of inhibition or class. In most cases, raunchy displays of boobs are less about promiscuity and more related to fame-seeking and juvenile desperation to abide by social norms. Women in BrizVegas – from underage babes to mutton-dressed-as-lamb cougars – love to show a hint of boob because we’ve got the flesh, we’ve got the climate, and we’re so far away from the rest of the world, who’s going to care about our lewd behaviour ?
BrizVegas is wrong to shun its reputation as the breeding ground of loud, Mystic tanned cashed-up-bogans, and should embrace the beguiling gracelessness of its thriving mainstream culture. Like an extrovert at a party, a well-exhibited set of boobs is a joy to behold, endowing all in their presence with a swelling pride for the bogan lifestyle. To stare at bogan boobs is to feel a compulsion to buy a plasma TV.
The question of whether we live in a happier, more generous society as a result of our willingness to bare flesh, or we feel compelled to reveal our assets because we enjoy such affluence and good fortune, is the fodder of sociologists.
Either way, our candour is deeply refreshing. The charitable nature that revealed itself in BrizVegas after the floods can’t have stemmed from a well of pure capitalist individualism, so clearly there are sources other than money which account for our sunnier-than-most society. It must be the boobs.
So next time you’re in town and you pass by a fabulous set of bogan boobs, say thanks; for making BrizVegas the breast city in the world.