Why do women wear bras?

I question I often ask myself as a woman approaching 40.

Honestly? I have absolutely no idea. In my humble opinion they are implements of torture, probably invented by men, and they have no place in civilised society.

Ok maybe I came on too strong but hear me out.

Photo by Pablo Heimplatz on Unsplash

Until the pandemic, when I am sure many women rejoiced at being able to reach for the elastic waist bands, banish the eye liner and push the bras to the back of the drawer, I had a pretty usual relationship with bras.

I was taken to Tammy Girl in my early teens to purchase two white, crop-top style numbers that made me feel like I’d arrived. I then spent the next two decades wearing cheap, underwired monstrosities that propelled my underwhelming bosom in directions that would surely increase my chances of reeling in a mate.

In my early thirties, mate secured, I started to rebel. The cheap underwires long consigned to the clothes bank ready for their next victim, I regressed back to crop tops. Black ones this time so I felt less like a 13 year old. The problem was, crop tops didn’t have a fastener which made them difficult to remove on trains.

I count my ability to remove my bra undetected on public transport as one of my special skills. The scene of the crime is usually the commute home but importantly, only when I have a double seat to myself. It goes something like this: a quick glance around to check the men in suits have their eyes glued to their phones. I pull my arms inside my jumper one by one, sliding and stretching each strap over my hands until I can elegantly pull my bra down one sleeve. Fighting the urge to wave it around in celebration I stuff it into my backpack as quickly as possible.

This used to be a regular occurrence but then the pandemic hit, the daily commute ground to a halt and we were locked in our houses for two years. While the citizens of the globe felt trapped, my breasts were finally free.

Fast forward to two weeks ago, spring had finally arrived and I started to feel like my days of hiding under woollen jumpers were once again numbered. So I booked an appointment at John Lewis to get fitted. Entering the changing room and removing my jumper I expected Brenda, my cheerful fitter, to take a couple of measurements, tell me my size and send me on my way. Instead what ensued can only be described as a very weird combination between a treasure hunt and an auction. Brenda made it her mission to prove me wrong when I proclaimed, “There is no way you’ll get me in an underwire.” while gradually increasing my cup size to the point of disbelief.

After one and a half hours of black crop tops, bralettes, underwires - and a lot of scooping, “Have you scooped”, Brenda would say every time she reappeared to check the sizing, I committed. Walking out of the store £95 poorer, having discovered what I thought was an amazing French bra brand, I felt chuffed to be taking a 32DD home with me. 

So why do women wear bras? I’m sure there are women out there that need the support. Women who feel good in a bra. Women who need to wear bras for medical reasons. However I have to say it’s still a no from me. Turns out the strap of my new bra flipped up when I sat down and it made contact with my muffin top. Cheers Brenda.

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You might notice today’s post feels a little different. Two weeks ago I spent a week on a residential writing course and it inspired me to shake things up.

Writing about somewhat serious, vulnerable things has been my focus since I started this Substack but this piece was something that came out (actually straight after a bout of ugly crying) on my retreat. It felt good to engage with another side of myself - and even better to read it out loud and make people laugh. I’m never going to be a standup comedian, my hands were shaking so much I almost dropped the piece of paper. But I would like to work on bringing more playfulness into my writing. Something I admire in writers like Rhik Samadder is how they weave humour and pain together - this is something I’m interested in exploring with my work.

So moving forwards I will be experimenting. I will mix the professional with the personal, inner narrative with dialogue and prose. Humour with darkness. All in the name of figuring out what might stick.

I will continue to write about running a business and being a designer but I also want to write about being a childfree by choice woman on the cusp of 40. I want to write about relationships, connection, not having kids… the list goes on. I want to take the open, honest, vulnerable, sometimes funny, approach to writing you all connect with into a more personal space.

There are now three sections to my Substack; Business, design and life. You can pick and choose which your subscribe to via your settings and old content is slowly being categorised into these areas for you to revisit.

Soon I’ll begin writing to you all about supporting my work financially and how you can do that. If you’re a regular reader of this newsletter I’d love to hear from you about what you value and how you’d like to support my writing - just hit reply.

I hope this piece provided some light relief on a drizzly post bank holiday morning.