Very well written piece. THere are many things that I could say as a man that would not equate the emotion, the joy, the delight of being able to take control of your body the way women have recently been. The reason being was because the most that someone ever shamed my body was to stop doing something or I would go blind. I never stopped and I am not blind. My body is my own and I am proud to say that we need more women to write work like this.
There is so much more to a woman’s relationship to her breasts than meets the naked eye. In this post, I am thrilled to have two of my favorite bloggers, KS of Kosher Adobo and Jennifer Berney of Goodnight Already, joining me as we pay homage to this most famous of feminine body parts.
Two Tahitian Women by Paul Gauguin
I am a junior in boarding school. Behind me is a “Save Sex” poster and a perfume ad: “Femme Fatale: When the female of the species is more dangerous than the male.” It’s the night before the first day of school. I am tugging on the neck of my shirt, admiring my bra strap. Every bra I owned just a year before was white or beige, looking more like bandages for my then AA breasts. But this 36B brassiere, red and lined with lace, which I bought…
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