CRITICALLY UPLIFTING

Why am I harangued so? Women readers keep asking me to comment on the new stick-on bras that are the rage today. Well, if you hadn't noticed, PNL is striving to be a classy, lifestyle column and not just another titillating tabloid. Besides, I am trying to be a cynical critic, and silly sophomoric subjects will erode my negative credibility.

Having said this, I don't see what all the furor is all about. "Chicken cutlets," as the new strapless gel bras are referred to on the street, are used to make perpendicular what would ordinarily point to your shoes. New fashions require support systems that work "behind the scenes," if you will.

This is nothing new. Architects have striven to hide all evidence of load-bearing supports for centuries. Whether buildings, bridges, or bras, the prizes have always gone to those who can seemingly defy gravity with grace. Conversely, structural failure has been on people's minds every since Osama bin Laden watched Janet Jackson on Superbowl XXXVIII and emailed the clip to George Bush.

Women assume men want floaters. I don't know why. I've never liked being pointed to -- whether by my teachers in school -- or by colleagues in the work force. Breasts outnumber men two to one, and there are as many mammaries out there as there are men and women combined. I am not overly tall. At five foot eleven, the last thing I want is to have them all pointing at my nose.

I grew up on John Gunther travel documentaries and remember as a child being quite turned on by the pancakes dancing around the fire. I developed a taste for tribal aesthetics before I could even read. Early on I learned that that which does not point to the center of the Earth, is probably not real. This sensitivity not only helped me through anthropology, but physics and middle age as well.

The history of the bra is a history of pain, starting with whalebone corsets that stiffened the entire female form, right through to underwire bras that mimicked the medieval flying buttresses of Notre Dame. Though less comfortable than cheese cutters, these push up devices strove to make mountains out of molehills. In every case, Mother Nature, herself a bra-burner, punished those who would mock the Earth's gentle but inexorable tug.

To listen to the advertising, the size-enhancing, self-adhesive, backless, strapless, gel bras with cleavage-control are just the thing for slipping bust lines. The stick-on silicone supporters are supposedly perfect for the office, the prom, or the second wedding -- and are especially effective for quick fixes -- like broken straps or leaky sinks.

Female readers tell me that cutlets are not for the "full-figured" woman, however, and as such, there should be warning labels: "Do not attempt to use these devices if you are equal to or greater than a 44-D."

Common sense would dictate that the Brooklyn Bridge could not go "strapless" for long. However, women are not always the best judge of their own size, and wishful thinking causes many potential "cutlet" customers to chicken out.

Cutlets are also not for those with nipple rings -- for reasons that should be obvious. As a rule of thumb, maintaining the suction is critical to maintaining the deception: break the seal, and it's a whole new deal.

Removing the devices has been problematic in some instances, and there is one documented case of a Best Supporting Actress who lost a nipple to her gel bra. Anyone who tells you to "pull it off swiftly like a bandaid," should be ignored.