Why did hippies burn bras? What is the culture of “being a lady” really about? If bras make me uncomfortable, panicky, restricted, give me heartburn…should I wear a bra simply because my nipples make another woman feel uncomfortable, or a man turned on? Is my physical comfort less important than their moral comfort or their inability to control their impulses? Who’s responsibility are respect, chivalry and woman’s rights anyway?
These are the basic questions that I stumbled upon this week. I’m on a quest to question my day to day assumptions, so while countless others have spoken their unrest on these queries…well, here’s mine.
Let’s start with the bra burning hippies. Did you know that this concept came from a single demonstration with such provocative power that despite not actually burning anything, popular culture believes that it has witnessed this event. Just the intent to burn the symbols of what made the women demonstrators uncomfortable, despite not being given a permit to actually burn any of their items (good thing too, because another popular item besides brassieres was hairspray), the image hangs over our cultural consciousness all the same. It was 1968, and the protest occurred at the Miss America pageant. It was simple. The invitation was extended for women to chuck anything that made them feel un-liberated into the provided trash barrels.
If I had been present at said pageant, I wouldn’t have had to throw a bra in there, because I don’t often wear them. Which is where the beginning of this article began. See, apparently walking around without a bra is both “inappropriate” and “an invitation for sexual attention.” Really. Still, in 2012, this “you asked for it” and “your natural body is sinful” mentality dominates our societal standards. What’s more shocking? These admonishments came from the mouths of some of the most feminist, goddess worshiping, forward thinking liberal men and women I know. As did a concern from the raised by real hippies BF that my breasts may sag over time if left unsupported. The obvious implication being that it would be highly disappointing if that happened. I agree, it would be disappointing. I love my breasts! They happen to be pretty amazing without any bust exercises, hormone pills or surgery. But, I like to hope that I’d still be beautiful and dare I say sexy if they lost a little of their perk.
This got me thinking about what the real purpose of a bra even is? Besides to give you more cleavage, of course. For instance, my size B doesn’t seem to need the “support” even when I workout. And is the myth that leaving my titties swinging in the breeze will doom me to a sad saggy mess even true? Well, as with many deeply ingrained beliefs, it’s hard to say. To the Internets! One modern television excerpt that was clearly supported by advertisers (giving away free bras at the end pretty much screams corporate support) used science to try to explain why this is true. Another forum, advocating holistic health, presented 3 independent studies claiming the opposite, but couldn't find the original links to his arguments. So, apparently Google is as confused as I am. I guess the answer for me, goes back to the original question. Is my comfort, my mental state, my posture, my breath quality, my digestion, etc something to sacrifice for the fear of a little sag? Sorry, “ladies” and not so very gentlemen-like gents, personally, the answer is no. I’ll still wear my push-up when I want a little oomph and I certainly have nothing against your personal comfort choice when it comes to this issue, but I prefer to swing free 90% of the time. Deal with it.
Which brings us back to my second original question. What is this whole culture of being a ‘lady’ all about? The political, moral and cultural debates over feminism vs. conservatism, ladies vs. sluts, and tradition vs. progress still seem to be stuck making the same arguments as each side has presented over the past 4 decades, possibly since the beginning of time. I’d like to briefly summarize how I see it.
Being a lady seems to be primarily about respect and being respected. It is about treating oneself with respect and demanding that others be treated with a similar respect. I argue that chastising another woman for her personal choices, or agreeing with men to devalue her worth because of her choices does not fit into this description. On the contrary, feminism seems often to regard conservative women as barbarians trapped in a patriarchal culture who are unable to think for themselves. Dear liberal women, excluding conservative women from your definition of a powerful woman does not help our cause. Now, before I get all preachy or in some endless cultural screaming match, that’s all I have to say on that. I’m saving my podium pounding for my next point. Play nice ladies. Save the hair pulling and face scratching for those men who consciously or not are still disrespecting or hurting our stance as whole and complete individuals worthy of further respect than that earned by our sexuality.
So, what about the men cat calling on the street? Or grinding us on the dance floor without our permission? My dear, dear men, have you ever considered that this treatment, while vastly different than subjecting us to sexual slavery, still contributes to the destructive ways of thinking which devalue a woman’s right to make choices (small or large)? Why is it acceptable for our psychic, aural space to be violated because you’re not actually touching our bodies? How far of a step is it from cat calling a woman on the street, to grinding on a hot ass in the club, to taking a teensy peek at the breasts of the girl passed out next to you at the party, to using a woman as currency?
By the way, I have a little game I play with men whom I don’t know well yet. Maybe we’re in a VIP at the club, maybe we’re in a car and you’ve offered me a ride home, maybe we’re at a party chilling on the couch. Me, a little drunk. You, clearly interested. Me, pretends to get sleepy and curl up in my own space. You, 9 times out of 10, will do one of the following things: touch my breasts, try to wake me by running your hand up my thigh, or try to make out with my unconscious face. Seriously. In a lifetime of vastly different social experiences all across the globe, this is true. 9 out of 10. Men, have you thought about what your actions scream when you do this? P.S. Its awesome when I suddenly ‘wake-up’ and catch you at it. “What are you doing?” I ask sleepily. In my mind, point made and dude crossed off the worth my time or respect list. 9 out of 10 men I’ve ever met.
I’ve been told more than once that if I don’t want cat calls on the streets, I should try wearing a bra and looser fitting pants. That I should cover myself. In my opinion there are the deep roots of shame and the personal unaccountability of men in this statement. After all, even if I’m dressing for attention, why would you assume it is your attention in particular that I am looking for? Even if my pussy is pulsating with a throbbing desire to get fucked, who are to believe you have the right to decide how, when, where and who I choose to let devour me?
So, this post and what girls and men have to say on our lovely internet has left me a bit tired and sad about the progress of our strength as women. But, in the end, here’s my 2 cents. I’m not going to wear a bra just to make you more comfortable, and you might want to stop and consider what business it is of yours if my nipples poke out before you make a comment to me or any other woman about it. I’m not interested in getting your attention. I’m interested in feeling comfortable and being myself. Oh and trust me, if I want your attention…you’ll know. ;)
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