Several years ago my husband and I were in London in July. Yes, tourists. One thing we did, which we thoroughly enjoyed, was to take a bus tour of the city. I hadn’t been in London in many years, and hubby had never been. Our seats were in the open top of the bus, which was great fun. It was cloudy but not raining (really!), and quite warm.
In front of us were two young women. In front of them was an older woman with a child, possibly five years old, beside her. The two young women frequently leaned forward to chat with the older woman and the child. Then, at one point, one of the young women half stood and leaned over the seat to attend in some way to the child.
And here’s what I remember most about that bus trip: As the woman rose from her seat, the waistband of her jeans was pulled down, stopping above her butt crack but low enough to reveal fact that she was wearing thong underwear.
This underwear was maybe twenty-eight inches from my face. My memory of it is vivid enough that I can still remember both the color (pink, floral) and the style. (For those who don’t know: yes, there are different styles of thong underwear.) Was it a pretty sight? It was not. Even so, my eyes kept landing on it.
Now, I doubt that this young woman even knew, let alone intended, for strangers on the bus to see her underwear. And in relating this memory, I’ve possibly misled you. Because what I really want to highlight here isn’t accidental exposure. It also isn’t what I saw the next day in The Regent’s Park (many women wearing very tight pants and shorts, with tops that exposed a couple of rolls of midriff fat).
What troubles me is women and (especially) teenage girls who—without acknowledging the effects—wear clothing that either exposes a lot of female anatomy or covers it in such a way as to draw salacious attention to it.
I’m no prude. Nor am I ashamed of my own body or anyone else’s. What concerns me is a cavalier, even (seemingly) oblivious, attitude about what one’s appearance might be communicating. Many times I’ve heard girls and women protest that they should be allowed to wear whatever they want. While I agree with them, I would like them to consider that choices, like actions, have consequences.
Consider this image that was posted on Facebook recently:
(I deliberately cropped this shot, not revealing the faces.)
These young girls are in the process of becoming women, and clearly they are celebrating their attractiveness and their sexuality. This is all natural and normal. What I don’t think they realize is that even though they might attract wanted male (presumably) appreciation, they probably don’t understand that appreciation is just the top layer.
Several years ago there was a short-lived TV sitcom in the U.S. intended to highlight how frequently teenage boys think about sex. Was it every ten seconds? Five? Two? The show followed the fictitious lives of four sixteen-year-old boys throughout the course of their days, sometimes as a group and sometimes individually. What struck me at the time was that for one of the boys, who was a sweet kid and absolutely adored (from a distance) a girl at his school, there were moments when the way he thought about her was anything but adoring. It wasn’t that he was a predator. It wasn’t that he was going to throw her to the ground and have his way with her. It was that in moments of natural male teenage hormonal lust, with her so frequently on his mind, she became an object.
The show had little to offer, really, and it was cancelled after only a few episodes. Reviewers panned it, and I think they were right. However, one woman who reviewed it included this opinion: “No teenage girl should be exposed to shows like this on prime-time television.”
I disagree. I think one or two episodes of it should be shown in high schools, right alongside films that explain adult female biology, or drunk driving, or any other film shown to teens to help them understand themselves and the consequences of their choices. I’m convinced we’d see far fewer unwanted teenage pregnancies.
I remember my teen years pretty well. (Some people say I’m still half-teenager.) One thing I’m still very clear about is that boys and girls approach sexuality differently. In my experience, girls want to be admired, liked, even loved. Boys, although they also want to be admired and liked, etc., want to—yeah, the “f” word. Too many girls give in to boys’ advances because they think it will make the boys like them, and not necessarily because the girls want the same kind of physical relationship. So, as was shown in that cancelled TV show (and as is discussed in this New York Times article), while boys are much more than hormonal machines driven by the urge to—you know—they also have many moments in which that’s exactly what they want. Exactly all they want. And in those moments, it seems likely that warm-and-fuzzy feelings take a back seat. No; scratch that. They go into the trunk.
It seems obvious that mature men are less likely to be pushed around by their hormones. But if I were a straight male of any age, seeing the photo (above) of those two girls would get my juices flowing, even if I had no intention of taking action. And those would not be juices of like. They would be juices of lust, the kind of lust that objectifies. But I don’t believe the girls understand this.
As I write, I’m bracing for an onslaught from people who insist I’m telling women what they can and can’t wear. But that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying that in cultures such as ours in the U.S., people are unaccustomed to being blasé about what’s under our clothing, and we need to understand this as we make our sartorial choices. And I’d be talking about men as well as women, except that Fashion doesn’t often tease us about what a man looks like naked, and most sexual assault is committed by men assaulting women.
If I, as a heterosexual woman, struggle to tear my gaze away from exposed backsides, fatty midriffs, blouses worn a size too small so that the cloth and buttons across the bust are straining, and aggressively-displayed cleavage, is it reasonable to believe it’s easy for het men to do so? I’m not condoning wolf whistles, stalking, or touching, let alone rape; none of that should happen, regardless. And I passionately hope we’ve left behind us the days when a female rape victim would be asked what she was wearing when she was attacked. But when a woman says to a man, “My eyes are up here,” I hope she’s not dressed in a way calculated to call deliberate attention to her chest.
Should a woman wear what she wants? It’s her choice, of course. But if she wears something like the outfits below, which are offered by standard online clothiers, shouldn’t she also understand how it might affect someone else?
Bottom line: Whoever you are, it’s not all about you.
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I’m an inveterate observer of human nature, writing novels about all kinds of people, some of whom happen to be gay or transgender or bisexual or intersex—people whose destinies are not determined solely by their sexual orientation or gender identity. Check out my work on my website.
I'm very turned off by the fat-shaming in this piece. I'll leave the main argument to be discussed by others. I just don't see what positive purpose is served by centering your own unexamined disgust at the size of other women's bodies.