The Town Where Ladies Don’t Wear Bras
I am a prude and this turns me on so much
Heatwave, beach, and no bras.
How hot is that? I am in heaven. I am a prude from Hong Kong, I walk around in linen long-sleeve shirts during summer. There’s me, and then there are ladies without bras, walking on the same promenade.
I have spent a good decade in London where girls weren’t like that. They might show off their arms and legs, but the boobs are happily contained in these so-called anti-feminist garments.
Why did the feminists burn bras in the 1960s? My ample assets (as the UK Daily Mail calls them), snug behind them bras just fine. They are supported, structured and the shape is well-preserved.
A girl just took off her bikini top and started playing Hoola-hoop. I wanted to ask why was she doing that.
Freedom? Feminism?
I was totally lost, yet very turned on.
Life without underwire
As I explore happiness from a freedom and sex perspective, I try to recall the last time I walked outside without a bra on, obviously never. Or one step back, without an underwire, which defies the law of gravity.
Still nope.
The ladies here forgo the underwire support, they let them bounce up and down, flop left and right. Just like that. P.S. Their boobs are all bigger than mine.
I really want to know what does it feel like — boobs unsupported in public.
So I removed the chest pads in my swimsuit and ran into the sea. The icy water made my nipples perky. My boobs were too small to move under my skin-tight Speedo competition-grade swimsuit.
However, it was so sexy. I felt so sexy.
I also felt so stressed
I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me and my perky nipples. Then my inner criticism spiralled, I thought about the cellulite on my thighs, my belly fat, my floppy arms, and my face without makeup.
All the top-free girls around me told me not to worry. “Nobody’s giving you any attention,” they said.
Then I saw some Asian tourists, men, women and children. My prude tribe, I grew even smaller. I curled up on the picnic blanket.
“Make me invisible,” I said.
Suddenly I realised, all the obscured things we learned as Asian women.
“Don’t wear short skirts because the men will look at you.” Shouldn’t we ask men to stop perving on women instead?
Men should control where their eyes stare at (my recommendation is: just don’t stare at women, especially their bodies!), what their hands touch, and what words come out of their mouth. It is simply ridiculous, that they can go topless and then be a pervert, and women are not topless for their sake.
Again, no one’s watching
As I rambled on to my friends about Asia, they reiterated that no one’s watching me.
I looked at the golden beach and the turquoise sea, people were playing volleyball, dancing with fire torches in their palms. No one cared, a sea of binary and non-binary people, with and without clothes.
That was the freest I have ever been in my life. The life of an Asian woman grew up being told to be careful, to be modest, to shut up about desires, and to find a husband.
And yet, here I was, lying on the pebbles in my tiny swimsuit with my topless friends.
True feminism
It’s ok if I didn’t walk around without a bra. It’s ok if I couldn’t go topless into the sea. The true essence of feminism is having the awareness of what we are happy and not happy to do.
Today I learned that we could all be carefree. There are places in the world where women’s safety, although still not completely guaranteed, is relatively well protected.
There are feminist men who truly get it. There are people trying to change the oppressed nature of women.
Do what makes you feel comfortable, not what popular feminism discourse makes it out to be (no offence). If I am not comfortable going sexy like Emrata, I don’t have to. If free the nipples are too much, keep them indoors.
This is why I feel truly free. A day I felt free but also safe, sexy but also comfortable. Happily modest, happily sexy, happily beautiful.
To all the girls.
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