BOOBIES
Adidas Instagram campaign for a new bra collection.
BLITZ 14
In Spring 2022, I ran my second Brooklyn Half Marathon of the season, the one that ends on Coney Island’s famous Luna Park. After taking a few pictures in front of the iconic rides, such as the Thunderbolt, my girlfriends and I limped over the boardwalk and hopped onto the subway. It was an unusually hot and humid day.
Beaming in silence over our accomplishment, the iconic Wonder Wheel receded through the window. A male runner in bike shorts, medal dangling from his bare chest, spoke about the many benefits of running to a captive audience of Chinese tourists.
“Running is the king of sports,” the shirtless stranger explained, “for a beggar’s budget. You don’t need fancy equipment, just a pair of decent shoes…” and so on and so boring.
My friend K closed her silvery eyes and jutted out her chin.
“And a pair of tight shorts to feature the family jewels, leaving nothing to the imagination,” she said.
The Mansplainer fell silent. The Chinese visitors giggled.
“Since 1992, women have the right to take their tops off, too,” my friend K, a lawyer, added. “Legally, we’re allowed to go topless in New York.”
A curvy lady with elaborate nail art spoke up.
“My boobs have always been the reason why I don't exercise.”
K pointed at her breasts.
“I hear you, but listen up, I run several marathons a year with this excess baggage. If I can do it, you can, too!”
K cupped her breasts in her hands.
“My cup size DD makes for terrible biomechanics. Each of these friends weighs 7 pounds, add gravity and motion, and you have heavy rogue bundles bouncing on the run.”
My friend J illustrated K’s point by drawing eights in front of each of her breasts.
“That's why I wear two bras,” K said. “Half jockstrap, half straitjacket.”
K owned a whole arsenal of different models because women’s breasts change throughout their monthly cycle. The inner bra would hold her boobs in place while the top flattened them to the body. A body only accelerated effectively if everything was strapped tightly to the chest. The bands needed to be wide enough not to cut into the flesh and strong enough to let nothing lose. The cups needed to be filled to the brim without overflow or empty space.
A good sports bra costs 50-80 Dollars. Wearing two layers over several times a week, in rotation, adds up.
“I hate it when guys claim that running is cheap. Skiing is easier on the budget!” J said.
No matter what cup size, women always have to worry about their chests getting unwanted attention. Nothing was worse than being stared at while exercising.
“Plus, we’re expected to render even the slightest hint of a nipple invisible so that men don’t lose it.” K stared absentmindedly into the crotch of the bike shorts man.
I meanwhile sloppily googled running big boobs on my phone and unsurprisingly landed on a long list of porn sites. After a lot of downward scrolling, I discovered an Instagram campaign for Adidas bras. 25 photos of women’s breasts in various sizes, shapes, and colors were arranged to a diverse roster, only flesh tones band-aids covering their nipples. The casual, unretouched portraits advertised 43 new bra models in 72 sizes. I turned my phone’s screen to my friends to take a look. Other subway riders craned their necks.
“Like the windows to the soul,” someone remarked.
“Spectacular pieces,” someone else said.
The campaign had been banned in England of all places, but even prudish Americans were obviously pleased with the way these visuals celebrate and normalize diversity.
By now, the shirtless man had slipped on a T-shirt.
“That’s better. Almost dressed,” K sighed, snapping one of four shoulder straps. “Now, if you’d please wear the mandatory face mask.”
She stared him down, and although she was sitting, she had the upper hand. One of the Chinese tourists unwrapped a brand new mask and held it out to the man, smiling with her kind eyes.
June 2022
