The Oomph of the Bra

Indian women are all born with this Obsessive Compulsive Disorder of straightening their bra strap all the while. They can flaunt their polished backs and heaving boobs and yet a thin black strap showing makes them the so called “vulnerable and potential targets to indecent men”. Seriously, I mean how different is a bra from a man’s undies. Isn’t it just a support system to the female anatomy?

Another ridiculous invention is the plastic strap bras. It is ok for the so called transparent straps to show. Do we honestly think that a man cannot imagine what is underneath, if a plastic shows. Or probably we are just counting on the denseness of a male brain which normally cannot figure out anything without an instruction manual. I was at a swanky pub last night. There was this hot girl wearing a little black strapless dress and she totally ruined it with the transparent bra. It looked like she was a younger nubile version of Prem Nath from the movie Bobby sporting suspender belts to keep her dress in place. Girls get a pair of strapless bra or sticks ons for heavens sakes.

I first got initiated to this “World of Bra” when I was 14. (ok alright. I was a late bloomer.). I had no clue what I was getting into. White Jockey sports bra, was the safest, modest bet. They are akin to bloomer panties for little girls. I honestly feel sports bra is another unfortunate creation. It should be banned from anywhere other than the gym or sports ground. It flattens, traps, jails these God given assets, making them look like someone sporting man boobs. Why are we always hell bent on desexualizing women?

Then came a phase of covering those little pimple sized growth on my chest with cotton granny bras. In hindsight I feel the government should pass a bill to “ de cottonise” bras along with demonetization of currency. They are totally unfeminine, unattractive, unflattering pieces of cotton available in “white, black or skin color” sold by bra wale bhaiyajis in hosiery shops. An average Indian woman invests in a good, sexy pair of bra for the first time, prior to her wedding. Normally most often than not, assisted by a raunchy aunty or an older cousin. It is as if you cannot go on a honeymoon without those laces and in that too there will be some well-meaning lady from the bride’s side busy shoving the strap showing from the choli all through the wedding ceremony.
I read somewhere that when a man seduces a woman and finds her wearing sexy underclothes, he must remember that it is she who initiated the seduction. I tend to disagree. A sexy bra, laces, padded, underwired, balconette whatever it may be, gives a woman pride in her body. It shows that she loves what she is, not just how people see her.
“Bra Burning” is a term used by feminists around the world. Whatever it may mean in the feminist dictionary, the literal meaning of the word would give me a heart attack. I can never imagine letting go of my bright, vibrant, lacy, varied lingerie collection ever. They say, when a woman dies, according to Hindu rituals, they dress her like a bride to her final journey. I wouldn’t care if they dressed me in rags when I die but I do hope they put me in my best pair of underclothes so that I enter the gates of Hell in my confident best, head held high.