Just stumbled across this incredible series of photographs, documenting the actual marks and impressions left by "binding apparel" on women's bodies
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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?
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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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