Sometimes, like when a friend of mine in London sends me a nice picture of her new baby in a cute t-shirt that says “My parents are pro-choice,” I feel that there is indeed hope for the future. Other days, friends send me links to news items in New York Magazine about nipple tint:

In just one more sign of the stripperization of the Everywoman, Benefit’s Benetint, conceived in the seventies for an exotic dancer to color lips and cheeks, is now also being sold at Sephora and elsewhere as a “kiss-proof and water-resistant” nipple tint. “Women want nipples to be pert and fresh-looking, and this shade makes them appear that way,” Benefit spokeswoman Alison Haljun says. “For a long time, the idea of a ripe, rosy nipple has been considered appealing and alluring.’’ But aren’t the nipples usually undisplayed? “Even if you don’t show it off, you know they’re rosier and more perky,” she says.

I’m not so sure that this really counts as the stripperization of Everywoman, but it does strike me as yet another way to steal hard-earned money from our abused wallets. (Don't forget the pubic hair dye for only $20 a box!) Do women really waste time worrying about the color of their nipples? I am a woman, and I have never thought about it.

On the other hand, I have spent an annoying amount of time trying to hide my nipples from the public view. Nothing is more embarrassing than going into a meeting and having erect nipples create an extra layer of a 3-D map of my chest. In fact, using Haljun’s rationale for the usefulness of her product, I must not be a woman because I generally don’t want my nipples “pert and fresh-looking.” I want them innocuous and invisible. I even buy thinly padded bras to achieve my goal.

Does this make me a prude? How do other women deal with nipple etiquette?

Suzanne unfemininely mocks stupid, useless “feminine products” at Campaign for Unshaved Snatch (CUSS) & Other Rants