YOUR LETTER WRITER Jerome Davis (November 5) has declared war on the humble bra strap, the bridesmaid of under-garments. They are to be seen, he says, “all through Bridgetown”.
Now I spent an hour today, in the spirit of my ministry of the streets, in search of Eve and bra straps. Apart from three plump middle age women flashing – no more – this sweet tendril of expectation, and who clearly didn’t give a fig leaf for Mr Davis, I saw only one real candidate, a gazelle-like creature in Broad Street. I did see many galactical cleavages but I stopped counting at 54.
My gazelle told me that though some girls were obviously “doing their thing” – and why not, as we agreed? – in her case and many others it was simply that the cut of the body garment made exposure inevitable. She was unimpressed by my suggestion that the strapless bra, or ‘boob tube’, might just fit the bill and said she didn’t have one and wouldn’t buy one just to please Mr Davis. Ah well, that’s the young for you. No compromise.
Now I’m not clear precisely why Mr Davis objects to the strap. He regards their flaunting as “unacceptable”, “disgusting” and “horrible”. He links them with wilfully slipped pants in fellas which, he says, are “despicable”.
Frankly, I think this is over the top. Is it prurient self-righteousness? I simply don’t see Satan stalking the streets in a strap. Alternatively, he might be saying that the exposure of this deviant scaffolding merely discloses poor dress sense to the point of vulgarity. If so, I agree with him, but I don’t think the social fabric is at risk.
I discussed the issue with a friend. She said she didn’t approve, as a moral matter, of parading undergarments, by extension the inner becoming the outer, the centre becoming the circumference, haqiqa becoming sharia – in short, wearing your heart on your sleeve. Now that raises many theologically interesting questions, none of which have anything to do with any sexual suggestiveness in the strap which I would categorise more as a limping semi-colon than a mind-blowing exclamation mark. That may, of course, be an age thing on my part.
I was wondering whether there was any sure way out of the dilemma. I’m afraid all I can come up with is going bra-less or wearing a kind of burka. In any event, Mr Davis can rest assured that I will continue to research this significant issue which is almost certainly destined to displace Ebola and the Clermont mosque in the public imagination.
