The other day, as I was running some errands near my office during the lunch hour, I passed a woman who wasn’t wearing a bra. That isn’t necessarily notable in itself. There are many women who don’t wear bras in public and no one is the wiser. The noticeable part was that her breasts were shaped more like mine and in her thin t-shirt, it was noticeable. If you asked a more conservative person, they might say her braless state was pushing the boundaries of decency. But all I thought was “You go, lady!” and then I started ruminating on why, as a society, we have deemed bras to be a thing. When did we decide that women have to keep their breasts tucked away? When did we decide that acknowledging that breats exist is somehow shameful and we should strap them in, immobilize them, as much as we can for politeness’ sake. I get that many women find bralessness uncomfortable. And I have several sexy bras that I enjoy wearing. And I know I’m not the first person to make this argument. But I was really wishing we could just choose, without any baggage, to go braless and not be embarrassed or assume everyone is staring.
Unrelated to the above story, but relevant to my photo, is another thing I’ve been thinking about. Awhile back on Twitter I had a conversation with a few friends (I think it may have been @ht_honey and @19syllables) about the fact that I am pretty happy with photos of myself naked at this point (thanks to Sinful Sunday) but that I lack confidence in wearing clothes. Clothes are mainly functional for me. I tend to feel like I don’t really look that great in them, so why worry too much about what they are? I’m getting somewhat more comfortable with body conscious styles but generally still dress to blend into the background and disguise my size.
So this photo is partly a homage to the braless woman I saw, just going about her business. And to the idea that I want to celebrate myself in clothes as well as out of them.
For more Sinful Sunday (and believe me, you do want more) click the kiss.