Just stumbled across this incredible series of photographs, documenting the actual marks and impressions left by "binding apparel" on women's bodies
bra blargh. |
As you can see, these flesh-emblems are not mere relics of victorian-era whore-shaming-wear. Nay, the air-obstructing mantle of Charlotte Bronte has evolved with the times: Like a sexy virus, it's mutated into the reliable source of shoulder pain known as "bra blargh" (A term I just invented.)
So what does it say about the role of women, when we are not only expected to endure these impositions on our bodies, but actually pursue them?
Look how comfortable I am! |
Moral of the story: It's completely acceptable for me to go to bed wearing these every night:
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