Stacked: A 32DDD reports from the front review

‘All too often, my own face plays a supporting role to the main attraction, my 32DDD breasts,’ declares author Susan Seligson in the introduction to her book, Stacked. And she starts as she means to go on, as the entire book appears to have been inspired by Seligson’s own and others’ attitudes towards her ‘God-given’ assets.

There’s plenty to like in Stacked. It’s refreshingly easy to read, and the author’s style is charming, chatty and wry. She draws the reader in instantly to a strange world of porn stars and editors, transvestites, breast surgery patients, professors and doctors, gossiping through a range of real life situations in her quest to know more about her mammaries. Never is the storytelling dull.

The chapters – ranging from ‘The Tit Man’s Tit Man’ to ‘Molehills to Mountains’ and ‘The Riddle of the Rack’ – read like a selection of mini essays. Where this book falls down slightly is that Seligson occasionally loses her train of thought, or her musings and/or intentions lack a satisfactory conclusion. The chapter ‘In Search of Maxi Mounds’, during which she never actually meets the terrifyingly augmented stripper she intends to interview, would be a good example of this.

While it is initially amusing to read little details about the author’s personal relationship with her boobs (from the fact that in the days leading up to her period they feel so heavy that she has to carry them en route to the bathroom, to her party trick of concealing an entire pack of pencils), such a concentrated introspection ends up grating slightly and, at times, bordering on personal obsession. Time after time Seligson brings her current subject back to her own body – a little like that annoying friend who always has a bigger, better story to tell than your own. This literary ‘one-upmanship’ can be viewed as an effective memoir technique, but when placed in the context of cultural critique, it’s occasionally jarring.

Stacked excels when it comes to relating stories which offer readers some practical assistance or insight. ‘The Perfect Bra’ chapter is a great example of this, showing with endearing humour how a woman in her fifties discovers what she’s been doing wrong in the lingerie department all her life. (Incidentally, I did wonder why Seligson didn’t change her size on the book’s subtitle accordingly!) The glorious chapter ‘Me, Uncovered’ shines equally brightly, as we witness first-hand the author’s own topless shoot for photographer Jordan Matter, bang in the middle of busy Lower Manhattan.

Stacked has its faults – several times Seligson could have delved a little deeper into the psychology of her topics, and a selection of illustrations would have been welcome – but overall the book is to be recommended as an entertaining account of one woman’s journey to accept her body, shortcomings and all.