The Battle of the Bulge
by David Gaffen

One of the most enduring and oft-repeated sentiments during wartime is that the previous time period was a silly, spastic era mostly given to trivial concerns, and that a world at war is when the real "issues" occupy our minds, rather than such idiotic diversions.

Then again, perhaps not. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the "bulge" jeans. The British, in these heady times, have met the current crisis with the reissue of jeans for men designed to, er, enhance whatever assets a man may or may not possess.

Jeans designer Lee Cooper has introduced new light denim jeans which will, by means of physics, gravity and some kind of alchemy, compress all of the fabric within a square foot of a man's crotch to the middle, thus creating a bulge that is sure to drive the chicks nuts. This, the company says, "will be the fashion statement" of the season. Said statement seems to be "bite me," or "midlife crisis," but not all of us can be Henry James.

These blood-constricting trousers were first popularized in the 1970s, commonly associated with already frighteningly well-endowed porno stars or shaggy rock stars. Which makes for terrible logic. The former doesn't have much call to enhance Mr. Happy, and the shame that caused Adam and Eve to make coverings out of leaves didn't really enter into the psyche of these people. The latter, meanwhile, are the people who presumably need the least amount of restriction in their movements, with the exception of circus performers (how many enhanced clowns can you fit in a Volkswagen?). Meanwhile, 70s rock stars, almost as active as dancers onstage, were about as active as porn stars offstage, and it was hardly size that mattered for their star-crazed groupies.

This trend of showing off the package, which replaced less formidable options like a balled-up sock, was whisked away in the AIDS decade, when a man's eye-grabbing asset became his bill of health and a pack of Trojans.

Well, the jeans are back, albeit with a less-than-competent marketing strategy. Cooper's bald-faced, er, mistake is to evoke comparisons with that other asset enhancer, the Wonderbra. "But ultimately, just like the Wonderbra, if you haven't got the right equipment in the first place, there is only so much the jeans can do," she says. "Otherwise, you'll be getting the shaft." Actually, she didn't say that last part. Regardless, there's quite a few fatal mistakes being made with this product.

A man packing PVC pipe between his legs isn't going to have to work hard to show off everything (he probably can't help it, anyway). But those full of no sound, no fury and signifying nothing (read: hung like Napoleon), and try to cover up the fact with bunched-up fabric, are at best guilty of false advertising and at worse going to get a well-placed high heel in the face, as aiming lower would be pointless.

In contrast, push-up bras are an amazing invention, making the most nonexistent breasts look like hulking melons, bouncing joyfully to and fro. But while breasts are lots of fun (and most heterosexual and quite a few homosexual men admit to this), they're basically useless for all but the two-and-under set.

For the sake of women, let's hope Cooper has gleaned the one crucial factor lesson from the centuries of advances in women's clothing — they hurt like hell. The world's fashion industry has had, for the last 500 years, an uncanny ability to invent clothing that twists, contorts and wrenches those of the female persuasion, making them more likely to remove their clothes later. Juvenile, but hard to deny — if these enhanced jeans cause severe penile discomfort, well, then, that'll be progress.

E-mail David Gaffen at gaffman at att dot com.