So brave. So very, very brave.

Female students go topless to protest gender inequality, public indecency laws
More than 100 students participated in a “Free the Nipple” protest at University of California, San Diego this week.
Female protesters were encouraged to shed their shirts and bras to protest gender inequality and body shaming.

In an effort to fight against perceived gender inequality and body shaming, male and female students at the University of California, San Diego gathered together Wednesday afternoon—completely topless.

More than 1,000 people RSVP’d to the event via a public Facebook page for the “Free the Nipple” event. The event description touted the sit-in as a “peaceful, laid-back, and safe environment.”

“Bring your curiosity, forget your shirts, and most importantly bring your love, compassion, and support for the cause,” the event description read. “Shirts, bra, tops – optional. Show up in whatever you feel comfortable with because it should be your choice!”

Organizers of the sit-in provided snacks, body paint, and masks for any woman who wanted to conceal her identity.

Organizers also forbade students from engaging with hecklers or “opposing groups,” according to the flier.

Opposing groups? Who the hell would oppose a tig ol’ bitty-fest like this, ferchrissake?

Although I must confess, I am of two minds about this particular story. On the one hand, I have no problem whatsoever with hot babes letting ’em breathe. On the other, I have concerns about the kind of sebaceous Leftwit manatees that usually overrun this kind of event and flap their no-fun bags at unwary onlookers like myself hoping to catch some more desirable sorts turning ’em loose in public. Hey, if I wanted to see tits that droop like fried eggs hung from a nail, as Joan Rivers once hilariously put it, I woulda brought my damned hammer along. Seems to me that this next doesn’t bode all that well:

Anni Ma, a UCSD alumna and organizer of the event, said in a video—which contains some nudity—that some think that women shouldn’t go topless because it could be dangerous for females or give men an opportunity to take advantage of women.

“And I’m, like, those are all, like, very valid reasons and that’s why women try to protect themselves, you know, because there are really dangerous people out in the world—it’s not cool—but then I’m like, that shouldn’t be illegal though,” Ma said. “This should be my choice to do what I want to do.”

Ma said in the video that “a group of sorority girls” judged her for going topless in public in the cold.

“Dude, this country makes me like so confused,” Ma said. “Our society is all, like, hopped up on, like, sex on TV, sex on billboards, sex, sex, sex, sex, and then in our private life, oh, don’t do that, that’s disgusting.”

Oof. Dude, like, I’m all like, y’know, wow, are you gonna show us any, like, titties or what? Cuz, like, I ain’t, like, y’know, got all day here, right?

Christ on a crutch.

Oh, and yes, I tried to watch the vid, because of course I did. Unfortunately, the blasted thing took too long to load, and being a raggedy and increasingly irritable old man nowadays I find I don’t care about video boobage—regardless of what kind of whiny nuisance sports it—nearly as much as I once may have. So I moved on, although I did leave the tab open. Who knows, maybe I’ll have something nice to wake up to in the morning.

Alas, despite an encouraging trend, it seems that all might not be sweetness and light in Ta-Ta Land.

The no-bra movement is taking over 2021 fashion — and it’s leaving many women behind
All I wanted was a cute sundress to help celebrate the end of a miserable pandemic winter. As someone who’s been trying to reduce my clothing consumption and move away from fast fashion as much as possible, it had been a while since I’d purchased a staple summer dress that made me feel flirty and feminine. But I was in the mood to treat myself, so I opened the Aritzia website and started to scroll.

To my dismay, the experience wasn’t nearly as pleasant as I had expected. After just a few minutes of looking through the website and seeing dress after dress with an open back, spaghetti straps or excessively low-cut style, I found myself repeatedly wondering, “How the hell am I supposed to wear a bra under that?”

And then it hit me. I thought back to conversations I’d seen on Twitter, articles I’d read from major outlets and styles I’d seen on the streets of Toronto, and I quickly realized my shopping struggles weren’t just a fluke: they were the result of a rising braless movement born out of the pandemic.

Sure enough, a quick search of the term “braless movement” reveals a host of recent articles from major publications like The New York Times and Vogue, and more declaring that “2020 could be the end of the line for the bra.”

One can only hope.

While I’m all for those who feel empowered by this change, as a busty woman who feels most comfortable wearing a bra (usually a wireless one, let’s be honest), I couldn’t help but feel excluded and frankly, inadequate to see countless outlets declare that bras should be banished and to watch bralessness trickle into 2021 fashion trends.

Going braless has rarely felt like an option for me. I went through puberty at a young age and developed breasts before most of my friends, and I have always felt most comfortable when the girls are supported rather than left on their own to succumb to the effects of gravity. Letting them hang free would attract attention not to mention the back pain that would come from carrying around their weight without help. 

Now, I wouldn’t want anyone to think that my full-throated endorsement of the braless trend is in any way meant as a dismissal of the back-pain issue. As a dedicated, lifelong proponent of seeing as much exposed and/or free-swinging breastal real estate as is humanly possible—BUT, at the same time, as a man whose beloved late wife was an honest double-D her own astonishingly fine self—I must acknowledge that this is a very real, umm, sore spot for a lot of women.

Nonetheless, I remain staunchly all for the mass unleashing of dem puppies, just as fast as it can be made to happen. Sorry, ladies, I just can’t help it. I might be old, but I ain’t THAT old. The depressing irony here is, of course, that it’s the gals sporting the full shirtfulls that your average eagle-eyed cis-het boobie enthusiast most hopes will forego the over the shoulder boulder holders. Life just ain’t fair, dammit.

Yes, there are pitchers attached to the above article, although most of them are of underendowed chiquitas, regrettably. Not that I care all that much either way, mind; as my old buddy Pfouts always said, all they really gotta be is tits and I’ll stand up and cheer lustily for ’em.

When I reached the close of that last piece, I was gratified to find a link to another one, which naturally I clicked on over to with a quickness.

On Wednesday, the 56-year-old supermodel shared a video of herself standing under a beautiful waterfall while wearing a string blue bikini that showed off her toned abs. The camera then pans up to show the towering cliff and returns to Porizkova who is all smiles as the water runs through her hair. In her caption, she explained the story behind how she came across the waterfall.

Fans flooded the comments in awe of both the stunning model and waterfall.

“This is so beautiful. Glad you found your way out of the jungle! This country is so awesome. Thanks for sharing a glimpse of it,” a fan wrote.

“Forever young,” someone said.

“You look incredible!!” another person added.

Know what? That she does. That, she damned sure does. But you don’t have to take my word for it.

What, you thought I WASN’T gonna embed the vidya? Not a chance, friend.

After that one, there was a link to yet another titty-related story about Gillian Anderson’s recent vow that she would “never wear a bra again,” which would have made me happy as some clams ten-fifteen years back when she still looked amazing. Now…not so much, to be up-front about it. Gillian says, “I’m sorry, but I don’t care if my breasts reach my belly button.” Unfortunately, from what I’ve seen of her lately they may very well have already, which I’m pretty danged sorry about myself.