Bralessness: A Mental Bra-Burning Movement

Bralessness: A Mental Bra-Burning Movement We live in a world that values comfort, self-expression, and freedom. Just joking. Many of us women feel pressured to slip on a bra every morning. This modern-day corset has become such a part of our daily routine that we don’t even question it as one of the subtle signs of the patriarchy. But when you begin to examine the history and deeper implications of bras, you realise just how entrenched they are in beauty standards and the male gaze. It’s about more than just “support”—it’s about who decides what’s acceptable for women’s bodies. (And it ain’t the woman, as we’ve seen time and again). One day, it dawned on me that I genuinely didn’t enjoy wearing bras, and I finally felt safe enough to go outside without one. (More on that later). That was a turning point. Since then, I’ve chosen to go braless, except for sports. And honestly? I don’t want to go back. To add to my little experiment, my husband decided to wear a bra to understand what all the fuss was about. (More on that later, too). Needless to say, I’m embarking on a de-patriarchisation of the mind. A mental bra-burning movement, if you will.  Read on and share your thoughts. From Corsets to Bras: A Continuum of Body Control Looking back, it’s strange to think that corsets were once everyday wear for women. From the Renaissance to the 20th century, it’s what fashionable, well-to-do women wore for 500 years! (Give or take). Imagine squeezing yourself into something so tight you could barely breathe! (I suppose a lot of women do this with shapewear now? I’ve never tried). But those contraptions shaped women’s bodies, literally rearranging their internal organs to fit this narrow, “ideal” form.  And for what?  Certainly not for comfort or health.  Like a shapely vase, corsets were for display, to create a silhouette that pleased the eyes of men and society. Women were the objects. Silent, agreeable pieces of movable beauty (that were also f*ckable).  A Reductionist History of Strapping our Breasts to our Chests When bras became mainstream around the turn of the 20th century, they were hailed as more “liberating”.  But now I wonder, were they really that different?  Sure, they didn’t crush our torsos, but the principle remains the same. Shape yourself to be attractive, because her appearance is all the currency a woman has. They’re the same tool of control, just in a different package.  Honestly, in principle, it’s not too different to foot-binding in ancient China, where women’s feet were tightly bound to create this “ideal” look. (And whether it’s bras or feet, it seems like the “ideal” was rather juvenile). It’s all about manipulating ourselves to be perfect brides. And, in this way, what we were doing to our bodies fitted perfectly with what we were doing to our minds. Bras and the Male Gaze For the longest time, I didn’t think twice about bras.  Like many women, I excitedly started wearing bras as a pre-teen because it symbolised “being a woman”, more grown-up than my flat-chested girlfirends.  But as I thought about it more, I began to realise that the expectation to wear bras isn’t a natural law. It’s a patriarchal law. And just because the majority think it’s the way to do something, it doesn’t make it true, or beneficial. After all, it took humanity centuries to accept that the sun, not Earth, is at the center of our planetary system.  The whole idea that breasts should look a certain way, that they must be lifted and hidden, isn’t a choice most of us arrive at on our own.  It’s a deeply ingrained belief that our natural bodies are wrong if they deviate from society’s idea of perfection.  Undiagnosed Social Perfectionism And that perfection, in itself, is an inherently unreachable standard. We will always be considered too-something, despite all our efforts. Too fat, thin, too natural, too made-up. Too-something. It’s why the cosmetics, diet and plastic surgery industries are so prevalent. For years decades, I internalised that message. I didn’t even think about it. I was totally blended with the way things were. Too in it to realise that I was swimming in poop.  It was only when I began therapy and decided that I was the only person I needed to please—with my body, my thoughts, and my life—that I started questioning all the things I’d been doing automatically to participate in an unspoken “mating game” where men hold all the power. I’m not willing to subscribe to that anymore. The Feminist Rebellion – The Bra Burners of the Past When I started learning more about feminism, I discovered that women in the 1960s and 70s had already started questioning these norms. So yes, it’s not a Millennial/ Gen-Z fad. (Although, more on that later). You might have heard about “bra-burning feminism.”  The reality is, women didn’t actually burn their bras en masse, but they did throw them away as a symbolic act of rebellion.  It was their way of rejecting the expectations around their bodies and reclaiming their comfort and agency. For those women, discarding bras was about saying, “My body is my own, and I don’t need to fit anyone else’s standard.” And even though I feel like we’ve come a long way, bras are still largely unquestioned today. We may not be wearing corsets, but many of us still wear bras just because it’s “normal.”  For me, going braless has become a quiet act of reclaiming that comfort and authenticity. It’s a small thing, but every day, it reminds me that I don’t have to shape myself to fit anyone else’s expectations. A Mental Bra-Burning Movement What do we all do when we get home? Sometimes, before I even take my shoes off, I’m unclipping my bra and taking it off through my clothes.  They don’t make me feel comfortable or good about myself. Sure, I liked the way my boobs look in them, but that’s

Are Hair Extensions Harmful? New Shocking Research

Are Hair Extensions Harmful? New Shocking Research Despite growing up in South Africa, where hair extensions are almost universally worn by black girls and women, I only really tried hair extensions well into adulthood. As someone with an Ethiopian family, it just wasn’t our zeitgeist.  But once the mood to experiment with colour and length without dyeing or cutting my hair struck me, there was only really one option.  So, I became part of the growing number of Black women who have embraced synthetic hair extensions. I loved how I looked with them. They gave me a break from the time-consuming upkeep of my natural hair and allowed me to switch up my style whenever I wanted.  But one day, as I was packing our things to move homes, I noticed a silky-haired wig at the back of my closet.  And a question occurred to me: “Are hair extensions harmful?” I wondered.  And then many more: “Does the weight of the extensions damage my roots? Do they hurt my scalp? Why are they so itchy sometimes?” Here are my findings from that Google rabbit hole… Are Hair Extensions Harmful to My Hair? Have you ever experienced that dull, persistent headache after getting a fresh install? The tight pulling at your scalp as your hair is braided, often tighter than necessary to “make it last”? It’s not just discomfort—it’s your body telling you something is wrong. Traction alopecia, a condition where hair is pulled from the root, is no joke. It’s common among women who wear their hair in tight styles like braids, weaves, or even buns for extended periods of time.  When hair is pulled repeatedly, especially with the added weight of synthetic extensions, it can lead to permanent hair loss. Most black women I know opt for the tightly pulled look because it lasts long (4-6 weeks) and is a whole lot neater than a looser braid.  Personally, I have a very low threshold for discomfort. I always did my extensions myself, and redid them when they felt a bit tight. But the trade-off is that mine didn’t last nearly as long.  But there are plenty of older black women with little patches of thinning hair at their temples and a receding hairline, likely from tightly pulling hairstyles.  So, it turns out that what we’ve called “protective styles” often leads to damaging our hair. Are Hair Extensions Harmful to My Health? Whether you had a tight braid or a looser variety, extensions make it hard to sleep. But it’s worse if it’s tight. I’m sure many of you can relate—tossing and turning with a tight, uncomfortable scalp, trying to find a way to rest without pulling on your hair. Even once the pain reduces, there is still the matter of trying to sleep with this massive volume of hair on the back of your head. Whether you tie a top knot or tie it downwards, it still affects how you can sleep, both by its positioning and the weight it carries. Discomfort, lack of sleep, and the stress of maintaining extensions add up. And there wasn’t an easy solution. Not wearing extensions (and all the maintenance that comes with that) caused me as much anxiety as wearing them did. But in the world of the black woman, it’s often a case of damned if you do, damned if you don’t. New Research: The Hidden Chemicals in Synthetic Hair Extensions (!!!) But I knew all that.  This is what made my chuck our all my extensions and wigs. New research has begun to reveal how synthetic hair extensions are often treated with chemicals that may be harmful to our health.  Recent studies have found that many of these extensions contain chemicals like  phthalates (a reproductive disrupter),  volatile organic compounds (VOCs) (damages the central nervous system),  acrylonitrile (skin and respiratory issues), and  vinyl chloride (carcinogen: linked to liver cancer).    These wonderful chemicals are found in most synthetic fibers like Kanekalon. and are often absorbed through the scalp, especially when heat is applied during styling, or when the extensions are worn for long periods. Moreover, synthetic extensions release extra VOCs during heat styling, potentially aggravating respiratory conditions like asthma, especially in black communities already vulnerable to health disparities.  These findings point to an urgent need for better consumer protection and more research on the long-term effects of synthetic hair extensions. The lack of regulation allows these toxins to continue being used despite their risks.  (We’ll come back to regulation and trusting the government on health matters later). Cultural Mistrust of Research: Why We Have to Do Our Own Homework As Black women, we’ve often been the last to benefit from scientific research, and sometimes, we’ve been unwilling participants. From the ‘doctor’, now named ‘the father of gynaecology’, who purchased black slave women to experiment on to Henrietta Lacks, whose cervical cancer cells was taken without consent by Johns Hopkins, there’s a long history of Black people, particularly Black women, being mistreated or entirely ignored by the research community. This historical exploitation leads many of us to mistrust medical professionals and researchers—and honestly, with good reason. When was the last time you saw a major beauty brand release information specifically about the long-term health effects of the products we use daily, especially those marketed to Black women? We’re left to do our own research, trying to decipher ingredient lists that are confusing at best and intentionally misleading at worst. It’s an added burden that falls disproportionately on us.  We’re responsible for keeping ourselves informed, asking the hard questions about what we’re putting on our heads—and by extension, what’s seeping into our bodies. That’s why I decided to stop using synthetic hair extensions altogether.  It was a hard choice.  Like many of you, I love the versatility, the ease, and the beauty of the styles I could achieve with extensions. But once I knew the risks, I couldn’t justify continuing.  For me, the potential damage to my health—and the health of my loved ones—just wasn’t worth it. The Pressure to Have “Good

Women, Belly Breathing, & the Male Gaze

A couple weeks ago, as I was waiting for my husband and daughters at the airport, I noticed something interesting.  A lot of the young women coming through Arrivals had stiff, straight abdomens. Their tummies weren’t moving when they breathed, just their chests.  It took me back to a memory from my pre-teen years. Those volatile, impressionable years where many parts of our lives can be susceptible to societal hijack. Especially true of young girls.  The memory was of me making a conscious decision to try to chest breathe instead of belly breathe. I didn’t want to be caught with my belly ballooning out. Like, ever. So, in an effort to look slim and appear more beautiful (to strangers, I guess?), I began my journey into chest breathing. I had since made a conscious reverse-decision to deeply belly breathe no matter what.   But it got me wondering about what other subtle signs of patriarchy might be out there if something as fundamental as the way we breathe can be shaped by societal standards. In this post, we’ll explore the connection between chest breathing, fat-shaming, and unrealistic beauty standards, all framed by the influence of the patriarchy.  For many women, belly breathing—though healthier—has been subtly discouraged as a way of controlling female bodies to align with the male gaze.  Let’s start with the basics… What Is Belly Breathing, and Why Is It Healthier? Belly breathing (also known as diaphragmatic breathing) is the natural, optimal way to breathe. When you belly breathe, you engage your diaphragm fully, allowing your lungs to expand to their full capacity.  This provides a deeper intake of oxygen, slows your heart rate, and triggers your body’s relaxation response, also known as the parasympathetic nervous system. In contrast, chest breathing is more shallow. It often occurs when we’re stressed, anxious, or holding tension in our bodies—conditions that many women experience regularly.  Chest breathing can also be a symptom of engaging the sympathetic nervous system, living in survival mode or being in fight or flight. Over time, many women start chest breathing unconsciously, and the calming benefits of belly breathing are left behind. Benefits of Belly Breathing: Increased oxygen intake: With deeper breaths, you allow more oxygen into your system, supporting overall physical and mental health. Stress reduction: Belly breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system, promoting relaxation and reducing anxiety. Improved core strength: It engages the core muscles, contributing to better posture and even reducing the risk of injury. Better emotional regulation: Deep breathing helps you stay grounded and calm, a critical skill in dealing with daily stressors.   So if belly breathing is so good for us, why aren’t more women doing it? Why Aren’t Women Belly Breathing? While my little-girl self made a conscious choice to chest-breathe rather than belly breathe, many girls and women are conditioned to chest breathe without even realising it.  For decades, women have been told, directly and indirectly, that their value is linked to how thin or small they can make their bodies appear. (Isn’t that just a beautifully apt way for how the patriarchy tries to minimise females into submission?). And one of the ways we internalise this message is by sucking in our stomachs to create the illusion of slimness. Over time, this leads to habitual chest breathing, as our stomachs are constantly held in rather than allowed to expand naturally during breath. And while this is 100% anecdotal, I’m convinced this is true for maaaany women out there.  The Pressure to Have a “Flat Stomach” Think about the last time you saw a woman with a relaxed, soft belly in a magazine ad.  Rarely, if ever, right?  Media, fashion, and even social media have glorified the image of a perfectly flat stomach. Never mind that this isn’t a realistic or healthy expectation for most of us.  Fat-shaming—the negative stigma attached to having fat on our bodies—compounds this issue, as we’re made to feel ashamed of our natural bodies. Even health movements are often co-opted to promote fat loss, rather than true health, leaving us with the belief that any hint of a round stomach is unacceptable.  This pervasive beauty standard doesn’t just affect how we look at ourselves in the mirror. It shapes how we move, sit, stand, and even breathe. The Patriarchy Discourages Women Belly Breathing At the heart of this phenomenon is *drumroll* THE PATRIARCHY! A system that has historically controlled women’s bodies to align with the expectations of men. By discouraging belly breathing—whether consciously or unconsciously—society subtly enforces the idea that our bodies should be small, quiet, and controlled. The Role of Fatphobia in Policing Women’s Bodies As women, we are constantly told to shrink ourselves. This doesn’t just apply to weight but extends to how we occupy physical and social spaces.  Fatphobia, the systemic fear and stigmatisation of fat bodies, ensures that, as women, we are encouraged to take up as little space as possible.  By chest breathing, we avoid expanding our bodies, minimising our presence and reinforcing the idea that our value comes from being thin, pleasant to men, and unobtrusive. Control Over Women’s Bodies for Male Approval When we trace this issue back to its root, we find the influence of the male gaze—the notion that women’s appearances and actions are primarily evaluated through a lens of male approval.  A flat stomach, even to the point of inhibiting natural breathing, is often considered more attractive by societal standards. Think about the centuries of corset-wearing women did! This leads to us women being socially conditioned to prioritse aesthetics over our own well-being. #Shoutout to ShapeWear! Even when it affects something as fundamental as our breath.   But this isn’t just about vanity.  It’s about control.  Women are taught to constantly monitor and adjust their bodies, leaving little room for autonomy and authenticity.  So, the simple act of letting your belly expand during a breath becomes a form of rebellion. Ridiculous, I know, but also true.  Women belly breathing is a declaration that our bodies are not meant

Every Body is a Beach Body! 3 Steps to Boost Body Confidence

The sun is ablaze. The days are longer. And along with the undeniable joys of summer comes the not-so-subtle pressure to “get beach ready.” *Rolling eyes* Scrolling through social media, I’m bombarded with intense workout routines and “summer body” challenges.  But here’s the thing: somewhere along the way, we’ve internalised a narrow definition of what it means to look acceptable in the summer sun.  We forget that the true gatekeepers of our confidence aren’t airbrushed magazine covers or unrealistic expectations, but ourselves (*exceptions apply to those living in truly oppressive cultures. Don’t try this in Iran).  I know many of you reading this intellectually know that “every body is a beach body”, but don’t really believe that about yourself. It’s time to break free from that narrative and reclaim summer for what it truly is: a season to shake of seasonal depression, do fun things, spend time with those we love.  And we can’t really do that fully if we’re worried about our bodies, can we? Take it from me.  I was once a body-image worrier, but now I’m a body-confidence warrior. Here are 3 steps to really feeling the statement “every body is a beach body”. Why Do We Do This To Ourselves? A Brief History of Bodily Oppression I’m a nerd. So, I like to know where the hell the inexplicable things that we take for granted today come from.  Like, why on Earth we’re all trying to get “snatched” or have a “summer glow-up” to impress people we don’t even know.  Here’s what I’ve come up with so far, but feel free to leave some of your ideas in the comments. The Wife Prize For centuries, societal expectations dictated that a woman’s ultimate goal was marriage.  This ingrained mindset limited women’s aspirations, making a husband the pinnacle of their life’s achievements.  Unfortunately, this also meant conforming to a specific, male-approved ideal.  Throughout history, this “ideal woman” has been defined by various physical attributes, creating immense pressure to fit a mold that often conflicted with natural health or personal desires.  From the plump figures favored during the Renaissance to the corseted waists of the Victorian era, women were expected to manipulate their bodies to fit the current “wife prize” image. And I see the modern version of it now, playing out on social media and dating apps.  Perhaps the goal is not a husband anymore. Perhaps its likes, attention, and acceptance. But the origins are the same, whereas what we’re ascribing to, isn’t. Inconsistent Beauty Ideals Not only are we trying to fit a preset of what is “beautiful”, but that preset is constantly changing! Ancient Greece preferred athletic builds, while the Middle Ages favored pale skin and flowing, unbound hair.  The Victorian era championed a fragile, doll-like figure, while the 20th century saw a shift towards curves and a more “glamorous” look.  Don’t even start me on how we went from emaciated models in the 90s to the big-butted Kardashian movement we’re currently in.  It honestly beggars belief. On top of that, there have been groups of people who have been consistently excluded from all of this because their beauty was not recognised. Yup, I’m talking black and indigenous people who have not even been part of this beauty rat race because we were considered a bit sub-human to participate. I digress. What I’m getting at is that this constant change highlights the arbitrary nature of beauty standards.  If you’re not careful, you could end up spending your life reshaping yourself to chase a moving target, never quite reaching the ever-evolving ideal. (Sounds expensive!) Needless to say that this inconsistency leaves women feeling perpetually inadequate. Fake News Media Of course I was going to come after the media! Traditional media and advertising have become masters of manipulation, shoving unrealistic body types down our throats for decades!  Through airbrushing, clever camera angles, and carefully chosen models, magazines showcase flawless women who often represent a tiny fraction of the population.  Television bombards us with celebrities who have access to personal trainers, stylists, and cosmetic procedures.  And in the case of most, like the Kardashians, we hardly ever see them before their “glam” is done.  This curated perfection creates a false reality, making it easy to develop a distorted perception of what a “normal” woman’s body should look like.  And for black and brown people, it’s even worse, because there were hardly any representations for us to look up to. It was as though we were invisible!  (Look at any teen movie from the early 2000s. All white casts. Maybe a token black side kick). This media mirage breeds feelings of inadequacy and insecurity, fueling the pressure to conform to a standard that’s simply unattainable for most. How to Kill Body Confidence: A Case Study on Social Media As if striving to match the unrealistic ideals of beauty wasn’t bad enough back in the day (I’m looking at you, eyebrow-less Mona Lisa!), social media has thrown gasoline on the fire.  Today, perfectly curated online personas with flawless features and filtered physiques bombard us constantly.  It’s a hyper-accelerated version of the pressure to conform, leaving us comparing ourselves to unrealistic portrayals of our own contemporaries. Altered Reality Social media has become a breeding ground for unrealistic beauty standards, fueled heavily by the rampant use of filters and editing tools.  Platforms allow users to reshape their jawlines, smooth away blemishes, and alter body proportions with just a few taps.  The result?  A distorted perception of reality that bombards us daily.  These heavily edited images paint a picture of flawless complexions and unattainable body types, creating a false standard that most people simply cannot live up to.  This constant exposure to an airbrushed reality can warp our perception of natural beauty, making us hyper-critical of our own unedited features. I won’t lie – many years ago, before I went on my self-development arc – I tried using these photo-editing apps. (I was unsuccessful because I’m bad with this kind of stuff and