Before the ludicrous nattering about gender being “fluid”, normal people were getting on with puberty in the practical ways demanded by obvious biological necessities. The Bra Moment was a huge part of that in elementary school. Read on, Macbust!
Girls, some rather unscientific people need to be reminded, generally develop into a form of sexual adulthood between the ages of 10 and 12, some earlier, some later. In that time, girls’ bodies demand a certain modesty as they grow, thus, the “training” bra. They helped girls protect their budding breasts while prepping us for a lifetime of lace and underwires (I don’t care who you are: have you ever worn a lacy bra under an Ann Taylor microfabric? You look like you have a freaky rash, and no one will dance with you).
Speaking now as a generously-endowed Boomer (but only up top: I have absolutely nothing to sit on), I look back with fondness at this milestone in girlhood. My friend and rival (she was always a stunner and attracted boys with her infectious enthusiasm and delicious giggle - not jiggle - came over one day and did exactly what Stick does in this series. Thick as I was, I got it pretty quickly that she was wearing A BRA! And it was the real deal, with cups and all! She showed me the lingerie! She was no candy heiress!*
That night I begged my mother – never one to have a serious talk about anything (sorry, Mom, but it’s true), to take me to wherever these elastic and cotton miracles of femininity were sold. I think I embarrassed her down to her kitten heels because my dad had to come up and say “You’re not ready. Leave your mother alone.”
So I took a cotton t-shirt, copy paper, and tape, made my own bra, and went down to dinner. It was after my prescient, Madonna-like statement (the copy paper was conical, of course, but it had a visual impact, I’ll give it that) my mom took me to Sage-Allen for my first bra – and this was especially tough because my mother was almost pathologically averse to shopping (for good reason: I may divulge at some point).
Just a slice ‘o life before the madness took over and your daughter’s teacher tells her on TikTok that she needs to hide her “identity” from you. Good times.
*Sue Ellen Mischke, the “Braless Wonder” on Seinfled. Get with it.