Cartography of Desire

Someone made a map of average breast cup sizes by country, and naturally I spent more time with it than I’d care to admit. The methodology is whatever it is—surveys, national health data, the fevered projections of statisticians—but the conclusions land exactly where you’d expect from a map that probably shouldn’t exist: Asia and Central Africa as the flattest territories on record, and Russia alongside the Scandinavian countries apparently operating at a structural level that defies ordinary physics.

Germany, Austria, Switzerland—C and D cups on average, sitting somewhere on par with the US, Iceland, and Venezuela. The geographical groupings make no anthropological sense, which I find weirdly charming. Iceland and Venezuela in the same bracket. Sure.

My own preferences have always swung between poles without settling. Small, elegant, barely there—there’s something about that I find genuinely beautiful. And then there are days when I want exactly what Russia is apparently offering and no amount of restraint applies. My theoretical world tour would start somewhere in Tokyo and end somewhere near Stockholm, which is either a personality type or just a very expensive way to admit I have no consistent taste in anything.