Let’s start with being completely honest: size does matter, regardless of whether we’re talking dresses, shoes, milkshakes or dicks.


Moreover, we often underestimate the influence that the size of the latter has on a man’s ego. I’ve met a guy whose self-esteem and confidence was built on the foundation of only one fact: he claimed to be the proud owner of nine inches. And that was a starting point of valuing almost everything – including me. I heard that I was not allowed to moan about my looks or personality, because I’m good enough to be allowed into his bedroom and to enjoy his pretty inches.

On the other side there are men dealing with a lack of them. My friend had been sleeping with her ex-boyfriend for a year, but it’s her current beau who’s deflowered her in a medical sense. The first guy ended up in mental institution and dated underage girls afterwards.

Size is one of two things that he and one of my ex-boyfriends had in common; they also were loud and extremely cocky. Now I see that it was probably an attempt to mask their other features. I loved the beautiful stories of alcohol, cigarettes, drugs and bullshit told (shouted out) by that ex – as a teenager, and even now, I’ve got a thing for bad boys, and he was one of them. I was in love. It would be too easy to say that the size didn’t matter to me, because of the way I felt about him. But it wasn’t true. I fell deeper and deeper in love because he tried so hard to please me – I doubt that someone more generously blessed would put that much effort in.

I can’t speak for all of womankind, but I have an idea why we keep the myth alive. Maybe we hope that it could work both ways, that after not being able to fit in our usual size 10 when buying a cocktail dress, on being forced to buy a 12 instead we would hear:

It’s ok honey, you look beautiful. Size doesn’t matter.

Mlle Scribbler