Uplift
Dear Nell,
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StumbleUponThe bra names are a delight, as pseudo-scientifically hopeful as a shampoo label and as inauthentically French as Pepe LePew. My favorites were Besty Ross, Breathinbra, Delineator, Even-Pul, Francine of France, La Resista, Magicool, Mon-e-bra (complete with built-in wallet), Nature's Rival, Not All That Bra, Perma-lift, and Quest-Shon Mark.
When I first encountered Uplift, I figured it would probably be too thoughtful—that it would peer deeply and portentously into the underwirings of the American bra and emerge with the kind of super-detailed product reading, full of psychological and sociological flourishes, that was trendy a few years ago. But Uplift's almost purely a collection of facts; there's no real thesis to the book, unless you count the obvious idea that bras have changed in response to the dictates of fashion and necessity. This is a book for historians in the field, industry insiders, or lingerie fetishists—people who care what year it was that the A-B-C-D cup system was introduced (cattily referred to by one designer as "nubbins, snubbins, droopers, and super-droopers"), or who want a close look at the history of padded bras (or inflatable ones, as the case may be—one model came with a straw through which you blew air into the cups).
It's not that the book's missing historical context: Many of the major trends and events that have affected American womanhood are dutifully listed, and readers get to see a good chunk of the march of U.S. history through a satin-and-eyelet scrim. But it's a bit surreal to read about periods like the Great Depression and the World Wars almost solely in terms of their impact on women's chests. You end up with the history of America in 10 1/2 jiggles. And because the authors are so busy tracking the fortunes of various styles and merchandisers, they never really ask any difficult questions about their subject.
Take the bra's role as an agent of liberation. Its predecessors first appeared in the mid-19th century as a conscious rebellion against the horrors of the corset, an attempt to support the breasts without torturously constricting the chest. The authors don't really do justice to the major role that dress reform played in the suffrage movement, focusing on the technical details of early styles but not their political import. The bra's mobility and comfort helped enable women to work outside the home, and within a few decades, the bra was a staple of the female wardrobe. And yet by the late 1960's, bras were, at least in some circles, regarded as constrictive and unnecessary. How did an erstwhile improvement in women's comfort come to be regarded as a traditional feminine trapping? Did the activists who shunned the bra know about its well-intentioned history? Uplift tells us that there was only one recorded example of actual bra-burning; but then how did the practice take on such mythic proportions? And did the activists all have small breasts? I can't imagine any full-busted woman parting willingly with her bras: she'd be almost as uncomfortable as her corset-wearing forebears. The bra's status may be one of those issues that seems political but is actually biological. A study near the end of the book reveals a wide variety of what might be called bra attachment among women, from those who never wear them to those who even sleep in them. Uplift doesn't say, but bra attachment must surely correlate with breast size. Which might be one reason that some women find the bra a burden—one retailer compares it to the high heel—while others won't get out of bed without one.
What the book lacks in analytical heft, though, it makes up for with winning illustrations, mostly of advertisements. The pictures and sketches often say more than the accompanying text: In the early ads, you can see just how stiff and chaste early bras were, as if the manufacturers knew they were introducing something radical and were trying to make it look as proper as possible. Compare these with the boldness of Maidenform's 1952 "I dreamed I won the election in my Maidenform bra" ad, part of a series that depicted shirtless, bra-clad women living out various fantasies—traveling, playing sports, and so on. In one ad a successful candidate stands before adoring crowds and numerous microphones, her arms raised in victory and her breasts jutting out. Campaign posters bob beneath her, fireworks shoot off in the distance, and no one notices her partial nudity. The ad is the dead opposite of the classic shame dream in which you discover that you've showed up at school or the office naked. No wonder it sold a lot of bras.
Yours,
Jodi
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Notes From The Fray Editor:
Bill Lax writes that his mother Leona was one of the great bra designers, and that it was she who alphabetized cup sizes. Dan Golub speaks out for toothpicks here. Chas Valentine looks at fake bra history. Joan has the excellent theory that "Bra names also relected the mood of the times… The no nonsense, hard driven, 'get out of my way,' workaholic woman of the '80s was offered support and comfort from the 'Eighteen Hour Bra.'" Kathleen Ely says she is, like Emma Goldman, "politically uncorseted," but she still likes the comfort and "joys of a great fitting bra." We also liked Kate Powers' detailed personal account below—we'd hoped for more posts like this, but apparently only women called Kate and Kathleen wanted to share. There were many posts of a kind that we expected but didn't particularly want to read. And Mike Oxbigg is back with his breast nicknames. This feature was first spotted a year ago following this article on Mardi Gras, and as we said then, at least he's on-topic.
Special note: The authors of Uplift, Colleen Gau and Jane Farrell-Beck, are looking for Slate readers who know about bras. They are "very much hoping to hear from readers directly who may have additional information, corrections, and personal experience or connections with the bra industry that could add to the story." Read Gau's post here: it includes an email address.
Reader Comments From The Fray:
So goes the nation….can't help but imagine the parallel of the dot com boom of the nineties and the rise in popularity of the pushup, air pump, and water padded bras. Under the bountiful exhibit of substance that meets the eye lies... well, nothing.
--Jackie
(To find or answer this post, click here.)
I wonder if the bra helped to promote the breast as the most attractive part of the woman. It accentuated the shape of the breast far better than the petticoat, which flattered the waist, ever could. Women's fashion, because of technology or morality, tried to create big, false forms of feminity; the bra simply did what it could with what was there.
--BML
(To find or answer this post, click here.)
The combination of breast and bra is, along with lips and mouth, the most obvious sexual feature of a woman that may be observed in daily life, at the office, a cafe or club, and no wonder the care, thought, expense and effort that goes into presentation is substantial--it is a powerful cue and one that every woman I've been close to is intensely conscious of. I would say that the bra is the most important clothing item used because so many mannerisms and implications flow from it…
--Gregory M. Patchen
(To find or answer this post, click here.)
I'd like to skim Uplift to discover whether the authors have noticed how bra manufacturers have begun to focus on fabric and neglect actual design. This is, naturally, a matter that concerns the well-endowed more than other consumers, but I have to say that the recent switch to heavily lycra-filled fabrics (since, say, the early '90s) strikes me as an attempt at planned obsolescence. Although, yes, much more comfortable than less stretchy fabrics, when bras made largely of spandex wear out, they wear out so completely as to be entirely pointless. On the other hand, a less stretchy bra (these days likely to be much more expensive and made by a European company like La Perla) will still deliver a few years of weekend and emergency service long after it has lost its initial vim and vigor.
It also hasn't escaped my notice that these stretch fabrics have the added virtue of not requiring careful tailoring techniques. A really great (read: supportive, well-shaped and comfortable) bra will typically have a seam that runs right over the nipple; placing this seam and making it low-profile enough not to draw attention under clothing or chafe is no easy feat and must consume many manhours, both in the design and manufacturing stages. (Here I'm speaking with some experience, since I just had a dress made with just such a seam and the dressmaker, though gifted, struggled with it for quite a while before getting it right.) How much easier to give women a couple triangles of spandex and call it a day? And too bad for chesty individuals who would like to have discrete, organic-looking geometric forms under their clothes, rather than oddly-shaped bags of flesh. It is their misfortune to have been born with the genes for a womanly figure but neither the inclination for surgery nor the funds. Thus does the ill-clothed heavy set figure become a symbol of belonging to a low-income or low-status demographic, while the wealthy can afford trim, well-tailored forms. Not that I'm bitter.:-)
--Kate Powers
(To find or answer this post, click here.)
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