I woke up to a very colour themed facebook front page today. Suddenly all women seemed to have gone, pink, black or red. Seemed too much of a coincidence even to my fogged brain (being 7 am and all that) and only after I read very excited messages from three dear friends did it all make sense to me. You see yesterday some one executed a novel scheme of getting breast cancer awareness going. Give out the colour of your bra and raise ahem, awareness...
Its genesis is unknown. All that we know is that it started on Thrusday evening and caught on like wild fire. While I am not sure of the campaign's efficacy, I do know now that my friends and friends’ friends have a very colourful chuddi drawer. (Having said that, black still rules for most).
Like I said, I don't quite know how far the colour outings will go in spreading awareness, but I came across the following and what the writer had to say seemed like a good idea to share.
So, while you’re peeking inside your shirt to see what color bra you are wearing so you can post it in your status update, go ahead and feel around in there, make sure there are no lumps. And if there are, call your doc for a clinical exam!
(I think more of us need to repost this.)
What I wanted to write about was not so much about the whys, whats and the wherefores of the campaign but wonder out loud as to what about the whole campaign caught the ladies’ imagination.
I am quite certain it was not all about spreading awareness about breast cancer… it was barely about breasts.
Was it about feeling empowered or was it pure fun… Or like a friend said, it was about expressing solidarity with all women.
The idea caught on with me because it was just so outrageous! For me it was not so much about creating awareness than a sense of adventure/conspirational glee... I can't quite put my finger on it.
I do not want this post to be taken as a feminist or social commentary of "our times" but something interesting that caught my eye and made me want to write about it. But it did make me think how the idea of feminism seems to have moved away from the days of bra burning (though I am apprised of the fact that no bras were actually burnt prior to the coining of the term). Today it was not about “Sunday is longer than Monday”; today women wore their bra on their sleeve (a figure of speech mind you.) And the bolder the colour the braver you were.
This undercover expose is in stark contrast to the times when upon seeing a bra strap peeping out innocently, the shirt/top/kurta’s shoulder was hastily straightened to by a concerned colleague (female of course) or mom or aunt or sister. Or those seemingly nonchalant but curious one shoulder shrugs (pointing out the culprit side), and a casual patting of that particular shoulder to indicate a prison escape in a meeting. (This has to be one of the funniest sights ever… A meeting is on and from the far side you locate a colleague doing a one shoulder Macarena to tell you that your strap is out…). But today it was all out.
I have never before thought of this piece of clothing as anything more than a means of support and defying the effects of gravity for as long as possible. But today, under all the fun and mirth it created I thought i detected a glint of defiance.
Maybe I am looking for depths that don’t exist or am I on to something. Do let me know what you guys think (men included).