I KNOW FROM EXPERIENCE: MASSAGING BREASTS WON'T MAKE THEM BIGGER.
In 1958, soon after I won the Miss Arkansas Title, the Pageant Director (a single man in the printing business) decided I needed larger breasts to accompany me to the Miss America
Pageant. Forget that I won both the talent and swimsuit divisions in the Miss Arkansas Pageant. It was obvious that several of my competitors flaunted more-than-a-handful and certainly out-measured me when it came to “TittieTats”. But, apparently,
the judges were looking for more of a "balance" when it came to body-shape, talent, and presentation…and chose me.
Anyway, a former Powers Model from North Little
Rock, Arkansas, named Hiawatha Daniels, was hired by the Pageant Committee to help me grow bigger breasts. For two weeks, I lived with Hi and faithfully followed her diet and exercise plan. First thing every morning, I was weighed, measured,
exercised, then… my breasts were massaged.
That’s right! Not only did Hi massage each breast for exactly ten minutes…she also massaged my breasts
--using dairy cream--while I sat in the bathtub. My daily diet consisted of drinking pure cream three times each day, eating ice cream, and consuming large milk shakes. By the end of two weeks, I’d gained four pounds….all in my waist
and hips….and felt like “mooing”. It took another two weeks to lose those four pounds and for my breasts to "un-tweek" and... feel normal again.
I panic at the word, massage. From day-one, I knew that “growing big breasts in two weeks” was a ridiculous waste of money and time but, remember, I was the property of The Miss Arkansas Committee. They were suppose to be all-knowing when
it came to producing a winning-contestant for the Miss America Pageant. Today, they would have most-likely found some back-alley Doctor to inject silicone in my small but very-proud breasts.
I liked Hiawatha Daniels but there was something unnatural about a strange woman massaging my breasts, for money. What a bomb I could have dropped--back then-- revealing my latest sexual encounter with
breast massage, my years of incest and sexual abuse... but the year 1958-- wasn’t ready for such a shocker-- and neither was I.
Interesting to note: When
the Director of the 1958 Miss America Pageant, Lenora Slaughter, met with me and the other contestants on the first day of competition, the first thing she said was, “Girls, pad your swimsuits, your evening gowns, whatever you think needs enhancing
….I don’t care! I want to wow the Audience, the Judges, and the Press.... with talent, sex appeal, good looks, and lots of glamour!”
many of you know, I lived alone with my sexual secrets until 2016, when I published my life story. At Last--My Book: THE BEAUTY QUEEN, Let No Deed Go Unpublished, exposed everything and everybody….to the world.