I will not knock a person for eschewing bras, particularly in the summer months when they join forces with the underside of your boobs to create a miasma of sweat and good intentions. I will especially not knock a person for eschewing sports bras, which attempt to turn your double outies into innies through the sheer will of spandex. But I cannot eschew them less I give myself two black eyes every time I run down the stairs. I need bras not just because I like the look of them, but because they make these girthy girls more comfortable. Unfortunately, sports bras suck.
Most bras are designed to give the boobs an appealing shape while keeping them relatively stable, but sports bras are intended to minimise movement, welcome (I assume) if you have smaller boobs, and crucial (I know) if you have larger ones. Unfortunately, the majority of sports bras seem designed for smaller busts. They compress the breasts to keep them from flopping around and causing some very unwelcome discomfort.
If you have larger boobs and try the compression route in your sports bra journey you’ll wind up with a lot of strain being put on your shoulders and some unpleasant sweat stank around the bottom of your boobs. If you opt for a “properly fitting” sports bra you’ll find welcome support and comfort, but there will still be enough movement that high octane activities, like racing after your dog because he’s eating something he shouldn’t, will cause some pain in the titty region.
But that is where my idea came in. I was at home, and braless, and free of all of the patriarchy’s expectations and rigid costumes of control. And the dog was making suspicious noises in the other room. I leapt up and raced towards him, a hand grasping each tata like…well like a woman with big boobs trying to hold them in place while racing across the house.
My hands held them up, providing the necessary support, but they also pressed them closer to the chest, giving me that needed reduction in torque. It was the most comfortable my boobs had been while in extreme motion since I was 12 and my mum suggested it was time to get a real bra.
Which has led me to wonder why I can’t have robot hands that do the exact same thing. Look technology can be an awful and invasive thing. It’s created a shadow surveillance state ruled by advertisers, and massive servers are warming the environment, while old gadgets are poisoning it. Social media has aided genocide and is currently fuelling, and profiting, off the stupidest attempted coup many of us have lived through. But technology can be good. You are reading this blog because you love technology (I assume), I have a job because the internet and computers and Kinja exist. Technology has improved lifespans, aided mobility, made mass production cheaper and easier, and given us Cats.
I firmly believe technology can give us a sports bra that allows one’s boobs to be comfortable and confined. Structurally such a bra could resemble robotic hands — basically mimicking the excellent sports bra-ing ability of the human hand. The human breast has a fairly consistent rotation that animators have clearly spent millennia of the human experience studying and understanding. That knowledge could be applied to the robot hands to make sure they move and stabilise the bazongas naturally. This is not rocket science. Knocker science, from where I sit, seems relatively accessible by comparison.
The robot bra we need has been dreamt up. Now we just need an enterprising roboticist to design it. And please, protect the joints on the robot hands. We don’t want pinching.