A couple of weeks ago, while walking through the mall with my daughter, I passed the window ads for the latest Victoria’s Secret push-up bra. Irritated by the message these ads send my daughter who is on the cusp of adolescence, I found myself wondering just how important it is to “Be a Bombshell.”
Do women really want or need to be an overwhelming surprise? As in, “oops, I’m so sorry I knocked you over with the force of my super-sized, pushed-up breasts.”
Conversely, do we really want to engage in the use of smoke-and-mirrors, which sets the stage for disillusionment as soon as the bra hits the floor?
And I find the parallel between physical attractiveness and a military weapon very strange.
It’s all an illusion.
Then, last week, I read a friend’s post on Facebook about her recent experience as a passenger on a flight where she was asked to cover up while nursing her baby (her story was highlighted in Dann Denny’s article on Nov. 15). My thoughts immediately went back to the Victoria’s Secret ads.
We’ve heard this debate before, but once again, I find myself wondering why the sexual display of breasts is more socially acceptable than the natural, biological one.
Despite popular belief, breasts do have a function beyond sensuality, a function that provides optimal nutrition and nurturing to babies. Dual purpose, multi-tasking girlfriends, they are indeed. And there’s nothing more real, more down-to-earth, more lacking in illusion, than nursing.
I am a modest person. Because of this, nursing in public took me to the edge of my comfort zone. When my daughter was 4 months old, I was in the bridal party for my brother’s wedding. I made the mistake of buying a gown that was not nursing-friendly. As a result, I spent a large part of the reception in the women’s restroom, undressed from the waist up, nursing my hungry, over-stimulated baby.
On another occasion, I was in the stands at a high school marching band competition, sitting with my mother, baby in arms. When my daughter needed to nurse, Mom, in an effort to be helpful, pulled a baby blanket out of the diaper bag and inadvertently made a huge production draping it over me, which was probably more distracting than simply nursing discretely would have been. And to top it off, my daughter kicked the blanket off within minutes.
In spite of these challenges, I persisted.
Everyone is entitled to their personal opinion and comfort level. But I wish people would try to be more understanding. I’ve written before about the balancing act women find themselves in. Women don’t nurse in public to make a point or be exhibitionist. They need to take care of their children.
I applaud local restaurants for welcoming customers of all ages, and I hope people will not boycott Bloomington’s “breastaurants” because they fear these establishments are full of topless women wandering the aisles with a baby hanging off each breast.
Have faith. Have tolerance. Most people abide by table manners in public. Breastfeeding can be done with table manners in mind. As the popular commercial says, “ya gotta eat,” and that means nursing babies, too.
I’d rather my daughter see a mother nursing her baby in public than those ridiculous posters in the mall. Perhaps if there weren’t such a stigma attached to breastfeeding, more women would choose to nurse, and our culture’s obsession with breasts would subside. Then our girlfriends could enjoy a happy return to their natural function and size.
1 comment:
Outstanding commentary, Miss Kim.
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