It’s us: demi, balconette, push-up, racerback. The squad’s all here. We couldn’t help but notice you haven’t opened our drawer in awhile. We’ve also heard you making some pretty disparaging comments about us during quarantine—like when you tweeted “will the bra industry ever recover from this?” or when you drew “claws out bras out” over your Instagram stories.
You know, for unmentionables, you sure do talk about us a lot. Clearly you’ve got boobs on the brain, and that’s why we’re not worried. We’re your bras and we know you’ll come back.
How do we know? Let’s have a little herstory lesson.
EXHIBIT A: August 26th, 2002.
It’s the morning of your first day of 7th grade, and the novelty of the “grownup bra” has all but worn off. Our fabric pinches your skin, our wires poke your ribs, and your mom won’t even let you go within 15 feet of a Victoria’s Secret—so you’re stuck with the cheap-o box variety. You’re done with us, and you’ll never go back.
Oh, but what’s this? In the icy tundra that is every middle school classroom, you’re forced to reach for the flannel tied around your waist. It’s then that you find an even chillier revelation: your brand new Hollister tee with the fake field hockey team logo is just a smidge too sheer without us.
And there you go: back to the bra drawer.
EXHIBIT B: May 16th, 2009.
Now you’re 17, and you need a solid support system for Senior Prom. Your dress is backless, though, and it’d be a heck of a lot easier to go without a bra. Your friend Jamie says you probably could go without a bra.
“I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
One overly enthusiastic cha cha slide to the left, and it’s a full-on floor show.
That’s all right, we come with adhesive now. Back to the bra drawer.
EXHIBIT C (Yes, these are cup size jokes—keep up!): June 10th, 2014.
Okay, you’re an adult now. You’re 22 and you make your own decisions. We get it, so we’re giving you some breathing room. But what’s this? A new workout class? “High Intensity, low-impact Zumba cardio”–wow, that sounds invigorating!
48 breast-slaps to the chin later, it’s back to the bra drawer.
This time’s no different. Sure, you can go braless in the comfort of your own home, in the grocery store, in the partial nudes you posted to your main socials because it has been a while.
But what about later? Could you go to yoga without a bra? Could you bear a strapless dress without your trusty multi-way—literally, could you bear it? NO. You know who can? US.
But this is bigger than just you. Think about it: your generation vowed to make us comfortable—some would even say useless—with wire-free bralettes. Yet here we are, in the bra drawer.
Generation X couldn’t wear us under their racerback jumpsuits, so they made front-closure varieties and a few sporty ones as a treat. You’ve got some of those, don’t you?
Boomers BURNED us for fuck’s sake, yet here we are: the granddaughters of the bras you failed to burn. Those 50’s style longlines are your FAVORITES.
And don’t bother—we know what you’re going to say next. “Come on bras, there are plenty of people who choose not to wear you and it’s totally fine.” To which we have to admit: yes. Yes, there are people who don’t wear bras. Cool people. Not you.
We know what cool is; we’re French.
So, enjoy your bracation. You deserve a break and we’re prepared to give you that: a little tit for tat, as it were. Just don’t be so hard on yourself when you come back to the bra drawer, allured by the promise of a rounder shape, a larger size, or the peace of mind that comes with knowing Brent from work can’t see your nipples.
If you still don’t come back, well, that’s your prerogative. Just remember, we use an awfully sharp piece of metal to hold your chest up. It’d be a shame if someone-or something-were to repurpose it.
Yeah, that’s what we thought. We’ll see you at the bra drawer.