Braless
She was beautiful – caramel skin, slender limbs, the kind of fashion sense that immediately made you feel dowdy and out-of-touch. With a golden stud nestled delicately in the dip of her nose, my coworker wore brown oxfords and tights in a way that somehow made her seem New-York-City-cool, not Little-Girl-Pretending. She also never wore a bra.
At the time, I was near my largest weight, trying to figure out what to wear to work now that I wasn't a teacher and lacking any real awareness of what's fashionable. And I would never, ever, let my DD+ chest out in public without being properly restrained. So droopy! So floppy! So obscene!
And yet. She was not small chested – she might have been nearly as big-in-the-boobs as me. But she didn't seem to care. And neither did anyone else. It was all just a part of her general aesthetic. I chalked it up to her being cooler than me and skinny. Skinny people can get away with a lot that fat people can't.
Fast forward 7 years or so, and I'm lighter and healthier – not to mention more confident and fashion-aware. I'm walking around the streets of Cincinnati seeing girls in little strappy dresses, off-the-shoulder shirts, backless tops – outfits that in no way allow for a supportive bra. Most of these girls are small chested, but as I surreptitiously dig the underwire out of my rib cage and billow out my shirt to allow some air to get to the sweaty underside of my breasts, I wonder, wistfully. Do I always have to wear such armor around my chest? Is this just what life has dealt me? Can I never wear those kinds of clothes?
Nobody likes wearing a bra. The first thing women do when they get home at the end of the day is take their bra off. They're uncomfortable and hot in the summer, they're expensive, they're sometimes pinchy. I've been professionally fitted, but still when I take mine off I have red marks along my sides from the elastic. Studies show that wearing a bra actually makes your boobs sag more. They just generally suck.
But I can't deny that I like the way my chest looks in a good bra. Lifted, round, perky – that's the general consensus on how boobs should look, not natural and pendulous. But most boobs are not lifted, round, and perky. How did this become the norm? How did I get to the point where I'm ashamed to have my body look the way it naturally looks? I got my first bra after my mom looked at me in my spandex figure skating costume – I was a dancing bear in that year's big performance – and said with a big of unhappiness, "I guess we need to get you a bra." I felt self-conscious and somehow ashamed, like I was exposed and it was bad. I've felt that way about my breasts off and on throughout my teenage and adult life – like my big chest is obscene if it's not properly contained.
I've read things about the #freethenipple movement, about the unnecessary sexualization of a part of the body that is not inherently sexual. When I studied abroad in France, boobs were no big deal – they were on posters in the train station, exposed freely on beaches without any hubbub or second glances. Here I feel self conscious if I'm wearing a top that shows even a little cleavage – like I won't get the same kind of respect from male coworkers, like I'll have to worry about people looking at my chest while I talk, like I'll be encouraging people to see me as a sexual object and it'll be my fault if they treat me that way. And good luck finding tops you like that don't show any cleavage if you're bigger than a C cup.
So I've been doing some research, trying to figure out if there's a way I don't have to wear these underwire monstrosities that cage me in and cost $80-100 a pop, a way that I can feel comfortable AND not exposed. Sports bras are better, bralettes could work. Layers in the winter. I don't know if there's a great answer, other than to, like my former coworker, not give a fuck. I'm not sure if I'm up for that yet.
At the time, I was near my largest weight, trying to figure out what to wear to work now that I wasn't a teacher and lacking any real awareness of what's fashionable. And I would never, ever, let my DD+ chest out in public without being properly restrained. So droopy! So floppy! So obscene!
And yet. She was not small chested – she might have been nearly as big-in-the-boobs as me. But she didn't seem to care. And neither did anyone else. It was all just a part of her general aesthetic. I chalked it up to her being cooler than me and skinny. Skinny people can get away with a lot that fat people can't.
Fast forward 7 years or so, and I'm lighter and healthier – not to mention more confident and fashion-aware. I'm walking around the streets of Cincinnati seeing girls in little strappy dresses, off-the-shoulder shirts, backless tops – outfits that in no way allow for a supportive bra. Most of these girls are small chested, but as I surreptitiously dig the underwire out of my rib cage and billow out my shirt to allow some air to get to the sweaty underside of my breasts, I wonder, wistfully. Do I always have to wear such armor around my chest? Is this just what life has dealt me? Can I never wear those kinds of clothes?
Nobody likes wearing a bra. The first thing women do when they get home at the end of the day is take their bra off. They're uncomfortable and hot in the summer, they're expensive, they're sometimes pinchy. I've been professionally fitted, but still when I take mine off I have red marks along my sides from the elastic. Studies show that wearing a bra actually makes your boobs sag more. They just generally suck.
But I can't deny that I like the way my chest looks in a good bra. Lifted, round, perky – that's the general consensus on how boobs should look, not natural and pendulous. But most boobs are not lifted, round, and perky. How did this become the norm? How did I get to the point where I'm ashamed to have my body look the way it naturally looks? I got my first bra after my mom looked at me in my spandex figure skating costume – I was a dancing bear in that year's big performance – and said with a big of unhappiness, "I guess we need to get you a bra." I felt self-conscious and somehow ashamed, like I was exposed and it was bad. I've felt that way about my breasts off and on throughout my teenage and adult life – like my big chest is obscene if it's not properly contained.
I've read things about the #freethenipple movement, about the unnecessary sexualization of a part of the body that is not inherently sexual. When I studied abroad in France, boobs were no big deal – they were on posters in the train station, exposed freely on beaches without any hubbub or second glances. Here I feel self conscious if I'm wearing a top that shows even a little cleavage – like I won't get the same kind of respect from male coworkers, like I'll have to worry about people looking at my chest while I talk, like I'll be encouraging people to see me as a sexual object and it'll be my fault if they treat me that way. And good luck finding tops you like that don't show any cleavage if you're bigger than a C cup.
So I've been doing some research, trying to figure out if there's a way I don't have to wear these underwire monstrosities that cage me in and cost $80-100 a pop, a way that I can feel comfortable AND not exposed. Sports bras are better, bralettes could work. Layers in the winter. I don't know if there's a great answer, other than to, like my former coworker, not give a fuck. I'm not sure if I'm up for that yet.