Every Friday night I come home from work, fall into the nearest vacant chair, and sleep my way through the Friday night prime time television lineup.
Because her show is broadcast during one of my favorite times to take advantage of the impromptu, come-as-you-are nap, I have to make a special effort later in the weekend to catch Jennifer Love Hewitt in Ghost Whisperer. Yup. I TiVo it every single week. Word.
Please don't ask me to explain why; I'm just not sure that I can. But one of the most fascinating things about this show, in my estimation, is the amount of attention paid to Jennifer Love Hewitt's bosom. In fact, a friend who recently stopped watching the show told me that the reason she quit watching was because she was beginning to feel like the actual stars of the show were Love Hewitt's breasts.
They are certainly the most perfectly featured breasts on television today. "Oh, wait--did you say that this next scene would involve my running from the deserted house in fear? Then I think I should wear my white penior and negligee set ala Angelique Collins. Hold on a sec."
I've spent the last thirty years loudly condemning the objectification of women's bodies. I haven't given Victoria's Secret any of my money in decades. I have a NOW card. And yet--I can't stop watching this show.
There is an actual reason Jennifer Love Hewitt's abundant cleavage so often upstages every actor in the frame. It turns out that Love Hewitt--like the rest of us--is hyper aware of those other less-than-perfect parts of her body. So what's the best way to make sure no one notices your flaws? Find a way to draw their attention elsewhere.
I'm guessing she doesn't have any cute scarves.
And you swore me to secrecy about your Friday night fix!
I know, I know! But when the deadline looms large, I'm subject to give up anybody's secrets.
You might want to take that under advisement.
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