I wore a bra for a week

Bras.

For some women, the word bears with it a sense of security only underwear can provide. To many, going commando on the chest is pretty much as bad (or as good) as not wearing any knickers.

For others, bras are an unnecessary piece of equipment they can live without. Some women discard their bras for comfort, others to make a statement against a society that makes women feel as if bras are required.

Mind you, the societal norms with regards to bras (and boobs) vary widely across cultures. In many cultures, breasts are considered sexual (probably beating vaginas for the number one spot, though that’s pure conjecture).

Earlier this year, a low-cut suit jacket worn by Rita Ora on the One Show enticed over 400 people to complain – apparently her outfit “wasn’t fit for any time before watershed.”

Think what would have happened if we’d have been able to see her nipples! The BBC would probably be in a gutter somewhere right now, drinking its sorry existence off the face of the Earth.

People seem to really like to debate whether or not women should have to wear bras, it’s rather widely accepted that men don’t need to. It seems as if our lack of mammary glands makes our nipples rather sexless, the poor things.

When I read this article on a week without a bra, I decided to see what the big deal was. I decided to do just the opposite. I decided to find out what women are on about.

Picking the bra was both the most important and the most daunting step. Seeing as I was going to be confined to this thing for a week, it was decided that I go for a bra fitting.

You can imagine the looks the shopping assistant gave my (male) friend and I when we asked if they could fit me. Well, whatever look you’re imagining is definitely NOT the look I got.

Apart from an infinitesimal pause as she registered our request, she seemed more than happy to help. It was very progressive.

But then it came time for me to take off my top and bear my nipples all in the name of research. The tape measure went around as I stood there rather sheepishly, waiting for my results.

I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life – I am 34A. I know babies with a larger circumference.

I was tempted to go for a 36A to do nothing other than spite God – I think that’s what girls do when they size up right? It’s the number, not the letter.

I never imagined I’d get measured for anything other than a suit. Guys, just imagine having to get your dick measured professionally so you can buy that perfect pair of £20 boxers you always wanted.

So, the bra was purchased (£2.50 – bargain) and I headed home, ready to venture into the fascinating world of bosom-holders.

I basically self-flagellated trying to put it on for the first time. The clasp seems so simple when it’s in front of your face to undo, but the amount of times I let go and had the hooks rake my back were too numerous to count.

And, for something I got fitted for the very same day, I did not expect it to cut through me like it did. I felt like a trussed up turkey wearing this thing.

The strange thing is even when a (female) friend alerted me to the fact that apparently I had the straps on too tightly and I had to adjust them – many girls I’ve spoken to say they experience the same effects when it comes to bras.

Sistas, I feel ya.

Despite the discomfort from the straps, I found it pretty hard to keep my hands off my new pseudobreasts.

Not many people actually noticed I was wearing a bra, which was very convenient. A few people told me how defined my pecs were looking – I thanked them while slowly walking away..

But there is a pretty indescribable moment that most girls who wear bras have experienced. Though wearing a bra wasn’t the highlight of my life, taking it off almost had me sobbing with joy.

Well, maybe not, but it gave me another incentive to end a (not very) long day at uni by collapsing on my bed.

I can’t really say that I ever got used to it, but I’ll definitely concede that I started getting the hang of wearing a bra later in the week.

Probably the best thing to come out of this experience for me was that I learned how to undo a bra with one hand (although the orientation was wrong, seeing as the clasp was on my own back).

I guess I also learned how to take a bra off without taking my shirt off, but I’m not sure if that’s a skill I’ll ever need in the future. Who knows?

And to end this strange experiment, I’m just going to put this out there – I understand women (and even men) wear bras for different reasons. For some, it’s to hold an ample bosom. Others seek to merely hide cold nipples.

For everyone who goes through wearing a bra pretty much every day, I salute you.

But unless you feel like you need to wear such a thing, I’d say you shouldn’t wear one. They’re uncomfortable, annoying, and often unnecessary. I found that out the hard way.

Though I have no boobs, so I guess I’m being biased.

By a proud advocate of the #FreeTheNipple campaign.