Shop Window Mannequin Porn
“It’s quite clearly obvious that they are utterly disgusting and must do in fact disgust any decent-minded people!” That’s how this tightly-wound retired British major opens his sputtering interview with an amused BBC reporter. He goes on to rail at length about the five or six shops that have mannequin porn “up against the glass” where “you can really not avoid them!”
I don’t know if anybody else in the seaside resort town of Eastbourne in East Sussex in 1959 was unduly aroused by shop window mannequins, but judging by the height of this major’s dudgeon, I think we can safely conclude that they were powerful fetish fuel for him. Projection much, major?
No, he’s very convinced the mannequin porn is a public menace: “I cannot believe that these displays are anything else but harmful.” And as always, the lurkers support him in email:
“I’ve had numerous letters and telephone messages from people, not only resident in Eastbourne, emphatically endorsing my action. I’m hoping that local opinion may ultimately put a stop to these unpleasant exhibitions and thereby remove a slur from the good name of this town.”
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Perhaps with failing eyesight, his imagination is filling in the blanks and he’s just assuming they’re all anatomically correct?
When I was just little, maybe 4 or so, my Mom had me along as she was shopping. We were in a ladies dress shop and she had put me down while she browsed. As a toddler will do, I was wandering around getting into everything. At some point I wandered through the curtains into the “back” of the store. Somewhat dim and spooky. Suddenly I looked up and, looming over me, was a bald lady with only a towel tied around her waist, and with no arms. Scared the bejabbers out of me and I ran out screaming. Mom eventually got me calmed down and got out of me what had given me such a fright. She and the store clerks had a good laugh and then they introduced me to the artificial ladies with interchangeable parts and hair that displayed the clothes. Store dummies still creeped me out for a long time.
Back when I was a teenager in the late 1960s and drifting along 5th Ave my eyes bugged out at the sight of a mannequin standing up in a tight sleeveless lavender turtleneck with two breasts holding and sticking up two nipples. My erection was instantaneous; nipples were a no-no at the time and stiff nipples on a mannequin were definitely an erotic thrill. I know I hurried to a restroom in Rockefeller Plaza where I could grip and beat myself. Ahhh. the 1960s, what a thrill that was…