No Bra? No Way.

So Sunday is/was the day we females are supposed to go without a bra for the day out of some publicity campaign for Breast Cancer Awareness . I realize we’ve known for quite awhile that underwire bras can contribute to breast cancer–many of us have made the switch, but a piece of metal close to one’s body seems a bit overstated with the other dangers apparent.

Anyone carrying a cell phone in that region? Anyone eating lots of dairy? Anyone have a relative with breast cancer? Anyone eat pesticide laden foods? Anyone a smoker? A drug addict? Anyone living in a toxic environment? Why are we going anti-bra all of a sudden.

I hate publicity campaigns with a passion because usually they’re too long on gimmicky and too short of real.

This one reminds me kind of one I witnessed for Earth Day in college where the business majors in charge of publicity for Earth Day decided to distribute balloons and other plastic non-recyclables in festive blue and green colors. WTH? It makes a serious issue incongruous and cheap.

Implicit in this bra-free day campaign is the notion that we are all of a similar size and comfortability with our breasts. Mine are as someone once said, big and resilient. They aren’t sagging as much as they should by now—this is due in no small part to good quality bras. If I go bra less I’m asking for back ache and pain. Thanks campaign!

So I’m guessing we have a bunch of A cup organizers who think it’s a pretty easy feat to go around without one and that it’s just social conditioning making us wear one. Hey Ladies of the A! I’ll go without a bra today if you come over here and carry them around for me all day! How about that? I do get where some are going with this. Check out the rationale here though at www.brafree.org. She makes compelling statements on why we should go bra free.

Like most women I know, I take mine off before bed; I don’t put it on again until I’m ready to go somewhere so , in a sense, they are free to roam. But I’m personally not crazy about them hitting my knees at this point, thank you very much.

None of us like to be told what to do. I certainly don’t like to be told that I’m being a slave to fashion because I want to wear a bra. Um, no. If it were up to me we’d all be dressing more formally and like we cared about ourselves instead of running around like sleepwalkers in Wal-Mart. It’s my choice to wear one and I do. It makes me feel better physically, with less back ache. I like the way they look in my profile in the mirror. I’m not trying to hide them and I’m not trying to wish them away. They are there. They are part of me, for now. And that’s that.

I like mine. I like them a lot actually. I hope they’re with me for a long time. In order to take care of them I try to cut back on as many toxins as I can manage. But I won’t be part of your publicity campaign.