FALSIE ACCUSATION
I Thought My Ten Year Old Cousin Stole My Fake Bosom
When I was 15, I hand-stitched two falsies into my second-hand bra.
One evening, to impress a boy, I slipped a second set of foam rubber fakes into each cup of my only bra. My cups runneth’d over, and damn I thought I was hot.
Later, just a few days after my new crush and I had seen Romeo and Juliet with a church group, he and I walked hand-in-hand in the moonlight, and although I didn’t realize it, that’s when one of my falsies took flight.
Unfortunately for me, the next morning, my Romeo and a few of his friends emerged from their tent and promptly found an abandoned falsie and surmised it was mine. When I found out, I accused my ten-year-old cousin Dickie of snatching it from my suitcase and planting it in the road.
I now realize this is my origin story, one I was destined to repeat for years. It goes like this:
I’m desperate to charm the cute guy; I try to look sexy and alluring; I act like a nut; Wacky things happen; I jump to conclusions; I almost die from embarrassment; I act like a nut again. And again. Then in the end, the cute guy runs far, far away.
On April 23, 1969, I memorialized my falsie tale in my diary:
Friday morning I had to babysit for my cousins. Perhaps it was one of the most eventful days of the week. About 8:30 in the morning, Rodney and Chris came up around the house. Chris said to Dick to ask me if I had lost one of my bosoms.
They left. about an hour later, Teddy came and told Lorna to come down to the door. When she came back she told me that Teddy had one of my falsies. I nearly died. Rodney hung it on a hook outside the house. Lorna got it down for me and I went to my grandmother’s house. I was fuming and I thought my cousin Dick had taken it out of my suitcase. Finally I composed myself and went back to Aunt Jane’s. I balled Dick out but he said he hadn't taken it.
Barbara came down to Aunt Jane’s and told me when it happened. They had found it on the road. There was no proof it was mine but I refused to speak with Rodney. I was so mad that he had hung it on a hook. I lay on the couch. Rodney came and apologized to me but I didn't say anything. He got so mad! Finally, I snapped out of it and talked to him.
I’ve recounted this experience countless times, but after all these years, I’ve just realized I’ve been leaving out the best line in my entire 3,000 page diary:
Chris said to Dick to ask me if I had lost one of my bosoms.
This was followed by the second best line in my entire diary: I didn't know what to hell he was talking about.
Sharing this tale online has now become its own wacky yarn.
Two years ago Hilary and I launched our podcast. We led with the falsie story in episode one “You forgot a bra?” Here’s a short clip.
Later, on TikTok, more than a half million people heard me reveal, “This is where I lost my falsie in the road.” This led to questions. Lots of questions.
Not for a moment had I considered some people would be bewildered by the word falsie – or that they wouldn’t have a clue how it’s spelled.
“What’s a faultsy mean?” asked one viewer. Someone replied, “I think falsely LOL.”
Another wanted to know what a foxy was. (Foxy was what I thought I was when enhanced with double fake boobs.)
“What’s a fallsee?” asked a third, and still another questioned, “What’s a faltsy?”
“What the hell is going on in Maine?” asked one TikToker. Another person simply stated – as if it’s a well-known fact – that Maine is just like this, which is how Stephen King gets his inspiration.
“She’s unhinged like us,” wrote another fellow TikToker. That’s probably true. After all, I did accuse a child of planting a fake rubber boob in the middle of a country road in little Surry, Maine in the sixties.
So I cop to being unhinged, but here’s proof I’m also a whiz at researching obscure topics such as bosoms, and tracking down related tantalizing trivia.
In 1957, Lt. Jeane Wolcott of Ohio advised the less endowed of the 96 member detachment of the Women’s Army Corps to use falsies to “pad out their uniforms.”
As for the few who were “beginning to bulge” Wolcott suggested they wear girdles. This garnered high praise from Colonel Frederick G. Ward of Harrington, Maine. The title of the article was, believe it or not, “U.S. WAC Detachment Wins Real Battle of the Bulge.”
By the late fifties, about 65% of American women wore falsies. In 1958, the industry used 10,200,000 pounds of foam rubber to make these falsies.
Ten million pounds of fake bosoms. In one year? Can you picture that?
For a while in the fifties/early sixties, you could purchase balloon style bra inserts which you could pump to your desired size, but they often went bust.
In the sixties, the Miss World Contest banned padded swimsuits, falsies and wigs. (I’m afraid to ask how they determined violations.)
In 1970, the Women’s Amateur Athletic Association banned running by girls with boosted bras. Secretary of the association Marea Hartman was quoted as saying, “Some of our flat-chested girls have not been too pleased with some of the photo-finish decisions which have gone against them.”
I was never a runner, but isn’t a road race win determined by the first toe across the line?
In conservative 1950 Dublin, mostly for moral reasons, falsies were re-named as cuties. In the U.S. in the fifties, upscale designers took to calling them couture cups. In my self-esteemed opinion, nothing beats the nomenclature fake bosoms.
By the late sixties, androgynous supermodel Twiggy had arrived on the scene. Curves and Couture Cups were out. Stick thin and no boobs were in.
Then in the free-flowing seventies, many women rebelled, tossed out their bras and swung free.
As for me? I wish I could say I faithfully kept both my real bosoms captive, close to my heart and safely encased in a bra. But mini skirts and and hot pants and halter tops arrived on the scene, and damn, I thought I looked hot.
I’ll end with a plug for our podcast: If you want to hear more of our breast best stories, you might want to tune in to our first episode. And if you enjoy what you hear, you can set aside 24 hours and binge all 31.
SOURCES
Moran, Derry. “Colleens Go For Cuties: Falsies Come Out In Open.” El Paso Times, May 21, 1950, p. 21 (Courtesy Newspapers.com).
“Outlaw Wigs.” Morning Sentinel, Waterville, Maine, November 18, 1965, page 11 (Courtesy Newspapers.com).
“U.S. WAC Detachment Wins Real Battle of the Bulge: Falsies and Girdles Shape Up Outfit To Claim High Ratings From Colonel.” Danville Register and Bee, October 15, 1957, p. 31 (Courtesy Newspapers.com).
“Women’s Track Officers Ban ‘Falsie’ Finishes.” Evening Express, Portland, Maine, June 18, 1970, p.13 (Courtesy Newspapers.com).