Category: Being Cool

Most guys share a dark secret in common.

No matter how well we know how to ignite a woman’s femininity, no matter how consistently we can “kiss close” a woman, and–indeed–no matter how long it is we’ve actually known a woman we’re with just about every guy faces a certain obstacle. An obstacle though soft, frilly and decidedly feminine as it seems stands in the way of the average man like afternoon traffic on I-35 in Austin.

It’s, of course, her bra.

Why can’t any guy seem to undo it quickly, easily and without any drama?

Granted, there are certain things that are so firmly rooted in a woman’s daily life that they become second nature to her while utterly confounding most men. An example is how a woman can take a shower, come out to grab a towel and a split-second later emerge with a “towel turban” on her dome that would make this guy jealous. How does she do that? Has any man ever really seen it done?*

Another example is getting the bra on and off. She puts it on by installing it backwards around her waist first so she can see to hook it together. From there, the drill basically goes: 1) Turn 180 degrees on her torso 2) Arms through straps 3) Position.

And much to the chagrin of every AFC out there, she can whip the contraption off just as easily. Usually when this occurs in your presence, unless you are being treated to a striptease (which admittedly is one way out of this whole mess), it’s accompanied by a statement to the effect of, “Oh whatever… Here, let me just take care of it myself.”

The horror.

But here it is…we as guys don’t deal with bras in “normal life”, so to some degree it’s an unfair expectation for us have this trick down as well as she. Ask her to tie a Double Windsor and see what happens. Most women are utterly nonplussed by such a daunting task.

Although, when a woman ties your tie for you it can be a surrealistically hot experience, can’t it? There’s just something intriguing about that.

So once and for all, no more excuses. It’s time to turn the tables and give you some added intrigue, pardner.

Right here, right now I am going to flat-out cure you forever of “bra intimidation”. No more fumbling. No more finagling. And for sure no more embarrassing mood breakers when it’s time to take her bra off.

You see, the problem is largely a matter of misunderstood engineering. Women’s bras generally are fastened in the back by between one and three hooks.** Conventional wisdom states that to unhook that which is hooked, one much angle and turn the hook to allow it to take it’s logical course to freedom based on its shape.

Ironically, that course of reason produces the most tedious possible results.

Rather, the focus should be not on the shape of the hooks, but rather the action of the elastic. After all, it’s not really the shape of the hook that’s inherently holding everything together back there, it’s the tension afforded by the elastic.

So then, learning to unhook a woman’s bra most effectively is basically a lot like learning to drive a stickshift in that once you understand the mechanics of what’s going on, the more the proper actions make sense.

I did a cursory search on the Internet for a suitable tutorial on this subject. While several came close and indeed gave valid “one handed” instructions, every one was still too complicated.

Emily tells the story about how back in high school a certain clique of brash and socially popular upperclassmen would come up behind them casually in the hallways between classes and with one sudden, deft motion undo their bras and begin laughing hysterically.

In the hallways. Between classes. With one hand. Through the girls’ clothes.

And what was most unnerving to Emily and her friends was not simply the imminent crisis involved, but the blasted accuracy with which the boys could operate.

My first thought upon hearing all of this was to wonder why we were too dense to think of this one back when I was in eleventh grade.

But I digress.

The point here is that if some eleventh grader can unfasten a bra, you can do it. But then again, you may have to be at least old enough to remember how to work a television dial.

Why? Because that’s exactly what it takes to get this right…the first time, every time.

And obviously, who used to change channels with two hands?

Forget attempting to uncurl hooks clumsily, “double fisted” all the while. Forget some motion akin to “snapping your fingers”. Forget anything you’ve heard about placing your middle finger between the bra and her back before “squeezing the latched ends towards each other”.

Sure, that last option is half right…as is the “snap technique” for that matter. But “understanding the engineering” here means that you realize not only that the hooks must be relieved of tension (by squeezing the ends of the bra strap towards the middle), but that they must also be redirected from each other at that point lest they simply re-fasten on the “rebound”.

Sound complicated? Nah. You just “change the channel”.

Grasp the back of her bra where the hooks are in the middle with your thumb and the edge of your forefinger exactly as you’d grab the channel dial. This inherently gathers the hooks together slightly. Then, from “channel 2” to “channel 13” we go, gentlemen. For those of you who may be challenged by this analogy, you are grasping at about 1:00 and twisting counter-clockwise to about 11:00.

Then just let go. If you really must, maybe tug outwardly just ever-so-slightly after grasping and as you twist.

Oh, and although not mandatory, performing this feat left-handed is preferable.

It’s like magic, I’m telling you. So elegant a motion, yet so powerful the results.

And yes…if you can undo her bra through clothes, it’s all the more simple without. The only real caveat is that the larger the woman is, the more hooks you’ll encounter. Logically then, undoing a taller, curvier woman’s bra may require a bit more authority (read: “deliberately executed steps”) than advertised…but the technique is no different.

So the next time you’re done watching what’s on…change the channel.***

Be Good,

Scot

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*It’s simple, really. She takes the towel longways, drapes it over the back of her head while bending forward, brings the ends together, twists them together a couple of times and throws the bundle over the back of her head. Voila.

**Although some bras fasten in the front, the design of those varies quite a bit so we’ll stick to statistical probability for now. Otherwise, this could become more like an e-book than a blog post.

***No “stickshift” lessons will be mentioned here. I’ll leave that to someone else’s comments.
 

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Everyone knows that bringing wingwomen along when you go out for a night on the town can have an amazing positive effect. Social proof. Female intuition. People buying on the approval of others. Outstanding stuff.

But wait a minute. All of this assumes you aren’t actually out on a real date yet. What if you could have the benefit of wingwomen even when you are out on a “solo flight” with a woman? Unthinkable?

Guess again.

The concept I want to introduce to you is one I call “Embedded Wingwomen”. Don’t get any preconceived notions–we’re not talking about “in-bedding” your “wingwoman” here. This is probably even better.

In fact, I’m indebted to one of my favorite business authors here. Harvey MacKay wrote nearly 20 years ago now (How To Swim With The Sharks Without Being Eaten Alive, p.66) on how you as a businessman can “Create Your Own Private Club” for the purpose of entertaining customers. And you can do so at just about any nice restaurant of your choosing.

How so? Simple. You pay the restaurant (or bar, or lounge, etc.) a visit during it’s lowest hour. Think three o’clock in the afternoon if you have a restaurant in mind. During this visit, you meet the manager and explain to him or her what you have in mind. Essentially, you offer your credit card number and a signed slip ahead of your actual planned visit with the customers in tow. You then ask to be welcomed by name, and that your guest be welcomed by name as “Mr./Ms. X”, and that you are assigned a particularly effective full-time member of the waitstaff who is perceived to carry job stability, and preferably a regular schedule. Then you pre-approve a 25% gratuity.

When you arrive, you entertain your guests with the “red carpet treatment” extended throughout the night. When finished, you get up and leave. No waiting around, no drama. And most importantly no check.

And since you are a man or woman of your word, the next time around goes even more smoothly. A relationship is established. And you have essentially accomplished what Harvey has taught you.

Masterful stuff.

But this isn’t a business blog. We’re talking attraction and seduction here. And granted, it’s slicker than snake snot to apply Harvey’s exact principle to the dating world. Most definitely…but not until you’re sure that one’s a keeper, please.

So here’s how I adapted the principle and gave it a new twist when I was going on a LOT of first dates.

I had several very key places I enjoyed taking women to. I made it a point to build relationships with management and with very key female employees. Again…full-timers with regular schedules (which I made note of). I served notice to all of the above that I was more than happy to take care of them if they took care of me. Having built the first-name relationship using, frankly, much of that same old common-sense rapport building stuff we’re taught to use with attractive MOTOS, the die is cast.

Returning later with a woman, my new friend is behind the bar as expected. She greets me by name. Later, after a few laughs, I send my date to the bar for another round…or whatever. It’s then that my “embedded wingwoman” tells my date how hot/great/generous/cool/etc. I am. The comments are unsolicited, of course. The best part of this is that she’s telling the truth. I have indeed been nothing less than hot/great/generous/cool/etc. towards her in setting up the whole thing.

So my date returns to me with an extra measure curiosity and perhaps attraction. I actually witnessnessed measurable demeanor changes directly correlated to this effect more times than I could keep count of.

But that’s not where it ends. The next trip to the bar I’d make myself. That’s when I’d get a second or two of oh-so valuable female feedback on my date. Was she cool to the bartender, who she wasn’t trying to impress? Priceless.

And again, with each subsequent visit after having lived up to your own end of the bargain, things get better and better…and more amazing for the women you are with.

In one particularly glorious situation, I made friends with a particularly outgoing bisexual bartender at what is perhaps the most romantic “PDA bar” in the city of San Antonio.

BTW, every man needs a “PDA bar” on his radar screen. If that concept isn’t self-explanatory, e-mail me for some coaching immediately.

Anyway, I got to the point where I’d sit at the bar with a woman and simply excuse myself to the restroom for a blessed few minutes. By the time I returned, I was set to soon receive a report on more “dimensions of compatibility” than eHarmony could shake a stick at.

As you can see, the principle is actually a fairly simple one.

Be Good,

Scot
 

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