I Don’t Wear a Bra

It wasn’t until recently, through a few random blogs and a group of mean girls at the thrift store, that I started noticing the powerful feelings Americans have about wearing a bra. In a shock to no one, we don’t like braless women very much. I don’t understand what this pearl-clutchy attitude is about because I haven’t wore a bra in years and I doubt anyone even knows the difference.

As a proud member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee and a grandma that told me “all you need is a handful,” a bra serves no functional purpose for me outside of style. I totally get that for non-IBTC board members a bra can be very necessary for comfort, health, and keeping things together, but I don’t need any of that unless I’m running or at a trampoline party. They are uncomfortable, restricting, hurt my shoulders, and whenever I wear one, I can’t wait until I can go home and take it off. It is delusional for me to wear a bra for no purpose other than to shape my boobs in a way that is considered tasteful by the majority of people because it’s not something I care about anymore.

I didn’t stop wearing one for any sort of political statement or say one day “OK, I’m done wearing a bra forever now,” I just stopped doing it over time because it feels better and I never really knew why I was wearing one in the first place. I have never thought of it as rebellious or a thing anyone would recognize or care about. It’s like freaking out that everyone in public is naked under their clothes. I think people are confused if they find out I don’t wear one because I don’t have the stereotypical “dirty hippie” or “angry hairy feminist” look they assume every braless lady has to have. Look at me, combing my hair and wearing the clothes I want to wear! It’s like I make my own decisions or something.

One of the only problems I’ve faced with not wearing a bra, other than people looking at me like I have a dick on my forehead when they find out I’m not wearing one, is that now I notice everything is uncomfortable. Shoes are like feet bras, socks are too warm, jeans dig into too many places, zippers are cold, wedgies are agonizing, and purses that require any effort to keep over my shoulder are not even an option. Basically, women’s clothing is terrible unless we’re talking about leggings and tank tops. If I become president, that will be my cabinet attire. Leopard print, of course.

I don’t really know what I’m getting at here, just that it blows my mind that bras are still a thing that people expect to see on a classy lady. It sounds so ’60s to think that some companies require them in the dress code or that women will look at each other in disgust over this when we all know how much they suck. I think it’s time to direct our attention elsewhere, toward something that is ACTUALLY terrible, like my constant misuse of commas or the first 2 seasons of Breaking Bad. I think we can all agree on that one.

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About the Author: Becky