It must have been over a decade ago that a friend, at lunch time, grabbed my hands and asked me to feel her newly acquired bosom. “Check out my new boobs,” she giggled happily. “Got them in Korea. Don’t they feel real? I’ve always wanted bigger ones!”
They felt real, alright. As a liberal, open-minded person, that was probably one of very few times I was genuinely taken aback, but I celebrated the delightful acquisition with her. It was a victory of sorts. And I haven’t felt up another woman’s boobs since.
Of late, the times I’ve discussed breasts with my female friends have been on a rather more sombre note – breast cancer, mastectomy, reconstruction.
Ironically, it took illness for us to break through the barriers or taboos to openly discuss what our breasts mean to us; awareness and open discussions forged through illness later in life.
In our 20s and 30s, our breasts are fodder for gossip and sexualised by the male gaze. I recall an incident in the early noughties when I was called into my boss’s office to chat about my dress.
Despite working at a fashion magazine, I was asked if I had been wearing a bra that day. Under a stylish (at least I thought it was) black dress, modestly covered in the front with a slightly wider armhole, I went braless simply because the cut called for it.
Next thing I knew, I was summoned to the office to talk about the dress that revealed a bit of side-boob (yes, I rocked the side-boob before “side-boob” became a thing). The dress that, in someone’s words, brought “a bunch of guys perving at my side-boob around my desk”, which I was blissfully unaware of while typing away at my computer.
A friend of the writer’s once invited her to admire the results of her breast enhancement surgery – firsthand. (Photo: iStock/ZeynepKaya)
On another occasion where I had donned a semi-backless top, I was asked by another colleague if I was wearing a bra. Today, such behaviour by any authority figure in the workplace would be unthinkable and unacceptable.
From their life-giving role as the source of nourishment to babies, to political statements (bra burning in the late 1960s and the Free the Nipple movement in 2012)
Breasts have been taped, suckled, pumped, corseted to lift, augmented artificially, then reduced artificially throughout the ages.
While we now trumpet empowering statements like “flaunt it if you have it”, one glance at social media comments quickly reveals our hypocrisy.
Perhaps it is the patriarchal male gaze we’re fighting against when we, as women, take issue with the obvious display of other women’s bosoms, and even our own. Perhaps we see that as pandering to the male gaze or as Gen Z calls it, being a “pick me”.
Those of us who came of age in the nineties will remember how push-up bras were ubiquitous in that era. Three decades ago, Victoria’s Secret – that institution created for and by the male gaze – perpetuated a generation of women and men obsessed with the perfect cleavage.
From bra burning in the 1960s to discussions about breastfeeding, the writer says breasts probably have the hardest time in society compared with other parts of the human body. (Photo: iStock/Svitlana Ozirna)
Even breastfeeding is a topic fraught with judgement – how much, how often, how long. While the World Health Organization and UNICEF continue to promote breastfeeding for its long-term health benefits, it seems much trickier for society to decide where and how publicly mothers should do it.
The act of nourishing your baby with your body is clinically discussed and encouraged but remains, socially, a thorny subject, with others judging how much breast can be revealed. This “modesty” is defined by others – and standards vary.
Ironically, it is the ailing of the breast that seems to unite our community. With my two feet firmly planted in middle-age, it is a lamentable state of affairs to observe peers around me going through different stages of breast cancer.
In Singapore, more than 2,000 women are diagnosed with breast cancer each year, and about one in 12 will develop the disease in their lifetime, according to Singapore Cancer Registry data.
Dr Tan Yah Yuen, Senior Consultant and Breast Surgeon at Solis Breast Care and Surgery Centre, has observed through her over two decades in the field, a change in perception and conversations around the topic. “Angelina Jolie definitely played a role in raising awareness and starting conversations around breast cancer and preventive care when she opened up about her double mastectomy in 2013,” said Dr Tan.
She has noticed how millennial women in their 30s and 40s are more resolute and accepting of their diagnoses and treatment plans, some even declining breast reconstruction.
Witnessing my own friends going through the journey – from diagnosis and treatment to surgery and recovery – made me acutely aware of life’s frailty.
There is much social judgement about women’s bodies but breast cancer seems to unite people, says the writer. (Photo: iStock/thomasandreas)
Cancer would change one’s perspective on life, even when you’re just a bystander. Breast cancer, however, carries the added stigma of body image issues and a woman’s sense of self.
Less often discussed is how breast cancer can erode a woman’s sexuality. The combined treatment of surgery, chemotherapy and hormone therapy plunges a woman straight into menopause. Such complications call for an extensive support system.
What’s heartening for me has been seeing women support one another through the breast cancer journey, which begs the question: Why do we require frailty to become united? Why are our breasts, symbols of female power, so divisive?
A recently resurfaced image in the media is emblematic of this: That famous photo of Sophia Loren side-eyeing Jayne Mansfield’s overspilling cleavage at a Hollywood party so aptly portrays the complicated relationship we have with the female breast: simultaneously awe, judgement, derision, embarrassment. How do we embrace our femininity and sexuality? How much is too much, or should it be “not at all”?
At least American actress Scarlett Johansson, the buxom Millennial symbol of female sexuality, whose career has been shaped by how her body is perceived and discussed, knows that owning and embracing her physical assets is a smart business move that, in the long run, has turned her into one of Hollywood’s most bankable actors.
If only we could embrace ourselves and each other that way.
CNA Women is a section on CNA Lifestyle that seeks to inform, empower and inspire the modern woman. If you have women-related news, issues and ideas to share with us, email CNAWomen [at] mediacorp.com.sg.
Continue reading...
They felt real, alright. As a liberal, open-minded person, that was probably one of very few times I was genuinely taken aback, but I celebrated the delightful acquisition with her. It was a victory of sorts. And I haven’t felt up another woman’s boobs since.
Of late, the times I’ve discussed breasts with my female friends have been on a rather more sombre note – breast cancer, mastectomy, reconstruction.
Ironically, it took illness for us to break through the barriers or taboos to openly discuss what our breasts mean to us; awareness and open discussions forged through illness later in life.
In our 20s and 30s, our breasts are fodder for gossip and sexualised by the male gaze. I recall an incident in the early noughties when I was called into my boss’s office to chat about my dress.
Despite working at a fashion magazine, I was asked if I had been wearing a bra that day. Under a stylish (at least I thought it was) black dress, modestly covered in the front with a slightly wider armhole, I went braless simply because the cut called for it.
Next thing I knew, I was summoned to the office to talk about the dress that revealed a bit of side-boob (yes, I rocked the side-boob before “side-boob” became a thing). The dress that, in someone’s words, brought “a bunch of guys perving at my side-boob around my desk”, which I was blissfully unaware of while typing away at my computer.
A friend of the writer’s once invited her to admire the results of her breast enhancement surgery – firsthand. (Photo: iStock/ZeynepKaya)
On another occasion where I had donned a semi-backless top, I was asked by another colleague if I was wearing a bra. Today, such behaviour by any authority figure in the workplace would be unthinkable and unacceptable.
HOW SOCIETY VIEWS WOMEN’S BREASTS
From their life-giving role as the source of nourishment to babies, to political statements (bra burning in the late 1960s and the Free the Nipple movement in 2012)
Breasts have been taped, suckled, pumped, corseted to lift, augmented artificially, then reduced artificially throughout the ages.
While we now trumpet empowering statements like “flaunt it if you have it”, one glance at social media comments quickly reveals our hypocrisy.
Perhaps it is the patriarchal male gaze we’re fighting against when we, as women, take issue with the obvious display of other women’s bosoms, and even our own. Perhaps we see that as pandering to the male gaze or as Gen Z calls it, being a “pick me”.
Those of us who came of age in the nineties will remember how push-up bras were ubiquitous in that era. Three decades ago, Victoria’s Secret – that institution created for and by the male gaze – perpetuated a generation of women and men obsessed with the perfect cleavage.
From bra burning in the 1960s to discussions about breastfeeding, the writer says breasts probably have the hardest time in society compared with other parts of the human body. (Photo: iStock/Svitlana Ozirna)
Even breastfeeding is a topic fraught with judgement – how much, how often, how long. While the World Health Organization and UNICEF continue to promote breastfeeding for its long-term health benefits, it seems much trickier for society to decide where and how publicly mothers should do it.
The act of nourishing your baby with your body is clinically discussed and encouraged but remains, socially, a thorny subject, with others judging how much breast can be revealed. This “modesty” is defined by others – and standards vary.
UNITED IN BREAST CANCER
Ironically, it is the ailing of the breast that seems to unite our community. With my two feet firmly planted in middle-age, it is a lamentable state of affairs to observe peers around me going through different stages of breast cancer.
In Singapore, more than 2,000 women are diagnosed with breast cancer each year, and about one in 12 will develop the disease in their lifetime, according to Singapore Cancer Registry data.
Dr Tan Yah Yuen, Senior Consultant and Breast Surgeon at Solis Breast Care and Surgery Centre, has observed through her over two decades in the field, a change in perception and conversations around the topic. “Angelina Jolie definitely played a role in raising awareness and starting conversations around breast cancer and preventive care when she opened up about her double mastectomy in 2013,” said Dr Tan.
She has noticed how millennial women in their 30s and 40s are more resolute and accepting of their diagnoses and treatment plans, some even declining breast reconstruction.
Witnessing my own friends going through the journey – from diagnosis and treatment to surgery and recovery – made me acutely aware of life’s frailty.
There is much social judgement about women’s bodies but breast cancer seems to unite people, says the writer. (Photo: iStock/thomasandreas)
Cancer would change one’s perspective on life, even when you’re just a bystander. Breast cancer, however, carries the added stigma of body image issues and a woman’s sense of self.
Less often discussed is how breast cancer can erode a woman’s sexuality. The combined treatment of surgery, chemotherapy and hormone therapy plunges a woman straight into menopause. Such complications call for an extensive support system.
What’s heartening for me has been seeing women support one another through the breast cancer journey, which begs the question: Why do we require frailty to become united? Why are our breasts, symbols of female power, so divisive?
A recently resurfaced image in the media is emblematic of this: That famous photo of Sophia Loren side-eyeing Jayne Mansfield’s overspilling cleavage at a Hollywood party so aptly portrays the complicated relationship we have with the female breast: simultaneously awe, judgement, derision, embarrassment. How do we embrace our femininity and sexuality? How much is too much, or should it be “not at all”?
At least American actress Scarlett Johansson, the buxom Millennial symbol of female sexuality, whose career has been shaped by how her body is perceived and discussed, knows that owning and embracing her physical assets is a smart business move that, in the long run, has turned her into one of Hollywood’s most bankable actors.
If only we could embrace ourselves and each other that way.
CNA Women is a section on CNA Lifestyle that seeks to inform, empower and inspire the modern woman. If you have women-related news, issues and ideas to share with us, email CNAWomen [at] mediacorp.com.sg.
Continue reading...