Walking for Breasts

 

So the dawgs and I were out for a walk (actually an errand to Staples) and saw, across Germantown Avenue, a stream of walkers all bedecked in pink finery -- feather boas, foam bunny ears, sequined miniskirts, and all kinds of other whimsy. 

And, well, duh -- turns out it was a walk for breast cancer awareness. Guess I should've known about it, huh?

There were vans and tables set up all along the way to cheer on the walkers -- boom boxes playing music, and folks handing out candy and water and, I think, swag from businesses proclaiming their support o' the cause. Lots of yelling as the little clumps of pink ladies walked by.

I cheered and waved. Fortunately I was wearing my fabulous pink fingerless gloves, so I was able to show off a little solidarity flair.

And there was even vehicular solidarity flair. I saw (but did not manage to photograph) a car with foam breasts attached to its hood. There were also breast hats -- quite fabulous -- but alas, I didn't manage to document these either.

But of course the best was the solidarity bear.

As we approached CHillie, it was clear that almost all the walkers were stopping to have a picture taken with her. Coolness, right? So I asked the trio of the moment if I could take a picture, too (and I did in fact tell them that I was the bear painter). They were only too happy to pose, and they were delighted to take the reins of the dawgs so that I could get a better grip on the iphone, even while wearing my fashionable pink handwear.

And then they took a picture of ME with CHillie, which was gratifying.

So that was our walk of last Friday. Ours was short and enlivened by breasts. The walk for the breast ladies was just their first day of three, walking 20 miles each day. Go, women.