Bras are interesting articles of clothing. Sometimes we really hate them and at other times we’re happy to have them. They also underscore some of the unfairness of our society.
I remember running around topless in the summer time. I was, of course, a very young child. My brother, sisters, and I ran around in only shorts. We played in the back yard and ran through the lawn sprinklers in the front yard. Our summers were fun and carefree.
One day, when I was five and looking forward to starting kindergarten in the fall, my mother called me inside and put a shirt on me. I didn’t like it. The temperature outside was probably in the 90’s. I asked her why I had to have a shirt on. I said my brothers and sisters were all running through the sprinkler with no shirt on. My mother answered that it was because I was a girl. My brothers didn’t have to because they were boys. I asked her why my sisters didn’t have to wear a shirt. She said it was because I was older. But I pointed out that my older sister, Sylvia, was outside without a top. Mom said Sylvia didn’t need to have a shirt on because she wasn’t “developing” like I was.
I didn’t understand it and I didn’t like it. No one else in my family had to wear hot shirts in the summer time and I felt like I was a freak because I did have to wear one. I tried to get away without putting on a shirt but if I succeeded, my mom would inevitably come to the door and yell at me to come inside where she would force me to put on a top. My brothers and sisters made fun of me when my mom caught me outside without a shirt on.
Two summers after that one, my mom took me aside and showed me what I thought were baby t-shirts because they were so small. They were white and really short and had no sleeves, only straps. I was excited when Mom said I had to wear those because they looked like they would be so much cooler than wearing a shirt. That’s when my mom told me I had to wear my short t-shirt AND a shirt. She showed me how to put it on before putting on my blouse. Then she said it wasn’t a t-shirt. It was called a bra and that I should be happy to be wearing one because it meant I was growing up.
It didn’t make me happy. It was just more confusing to be the only one in my family that had to wear a bra.
When I started second grade the following week, I was the only girl in my class that was wearing a bra. I could tell because I couldn’t see any straps and I could see through some of the shirts. I became the odd one, again. The other girls stayed away from me because I wore a bra and they didn’t. The boys pointed and laughed.
And again I had to get used to being different than the others and being left out. It was all because of my bra.
I hated bras for a long, long time.
You seem to be in touch with everywoman. You’ve reminded me of embarrassing moments with hand-me-down bras from a city cousin. Maybe I’ll write about that some day. You are so brave. 🙂
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I don’t know about brave. I have a more current post about bras that I haven’t had the nerve to post!
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Awww I too had to wear the undershirt. Also hated it.
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I couldn’t wait to wear a training bra. Now, I wonder what the heck I was “training.” LOL
Today, I can’t stand bras and because I am so small, I can get by without them much of the time. Thank goodness because my sister is huge and has always been so self conscious about it.
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My daughter and I had to have this struggle last year, 5th grade.
It’s a hard-sell, for sure. That would suck to be strapped (literally) with the irritation of having to use one every day from 2nd grade on.
On the other hand, I kind of love picking out pretty, feminine ones, now. Men don’t get to be so utterly romantic and whimsical with the fashionable panties and stuff.
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