Think of a bra. Think of the last one you saw, whether it was in your own dresser drawer, on someone else or in the media. What did it look like? What did it offer in terms of feel and appearance? Inspired by a conversation with my friend Allison, I took up this seemingly anachronistic feminist topic by abstaining from bra use for a week. In doing so, I confirmed my suspicion that for the most part, bras are a socially prescribed accessory rather than something women actually need.

Before getting to the nitty-gritty, I will address a few possible challenges to my argument. One is that women with larger breasts need bras to reduce back pain. This is true, but it is important to keep in mind that functional bras usually aren’t considered feminine or sexy — calling into question who is served by those ideals. Another challenge might be that without bras, breasts would “sag,” as popular discourse so ruefully calls it. Well, breasts are going to change anyway, because of a little thing called gravity. And because of the general effects of aging and pregnancy too — if that happens to be in the cards. At a certain age, no matter your prior bra use, the only way to perk up your breasts is to wear a bra. And why was it, again, that we wanted perky breasts so badly?

The easy evidence to support bra use is changing breast shape and back pain — the latter of which affects only some women, but can conveniently be used in support of bras for all women. But the biggest reason most women wear bras has nothing to do with back pain or long-term benefits.

Women wear them because the bra, whether exposed or under a shirt, makes a Socially Acceptable Woman. The Socially Acceptable Woman has no nipples. Her breasts are symmetrical in curve and size, and sized between a B cup and a D cup. They have a stiff, foam rubber texture. And under no circumstances do they lie against her chest. To a certain extent, bras enable women to put on breasts as they would put on earrings.

I base my description on what I’ve found to be a typical bra among Cornellians. It has at least a thin layer of padding, which serves to hide the contours of a nipple and makes the breast appear larger. It has its own shape, to which breasts must fit, rather than the other way around. It has wire that is supposed to lift and squeeze the breast, to encourage cleavage. This is the typical bra among every friend I’ve had occasion to ask, and a look around any lingerie store confirms it as predominant. There are also bras that compress rather than enlarge, for those whose breast size is above the desired range.

To those women who claim wearing a bra is more comfortable, I would say that they are confusing physical comfort with social comfort. It’s hard to believe any small-chested woman who claims she’s not relieved when she takes off her bra at the end of the day. Indeed, during my braless week, the only times I was aware of my femininity faux-pas was when I felt someone’s stare. My body also moved differently when I walked, in that two particular parts actually moved. To some, this could be interpreted as discomfort. But I think that would be a case of perceiving a new sensation negatively in response to social taboos against it.

So, what are the taboos that encourage bra-wearing, and why do so many women wear essentially useless bras? I’ll answer the second question first: money. If women only wore bras when they actually needed them, the bra industry would suffer — especially considering that bras are by far the pricier half of the bra-and-panties under-uniform of the aforementioned Socially Acceptable Woman.

As for taboos, I find the social response to nipples to be especially telling. Nipples, whether hard or soft, are heavily loaded with social messages. Consider paparazzi shots of celebrities whose nipples show through their shirt, accompanied by headlines like “Oops! Someone Forgot Her Bra.” A common reaction to a woman whose nipples show is that she is unkempt (or un-kept). At best, she forgot her bra in a frazzled rush; at worst she actually meant to go braless and must be some kind of misfit or sexual deviant.

I would posit that this latter reaction follows directly from a fear of women’s sexuality, which has a long and expansive history. These days, this fear focuses largely on nipples. As a sign of women’s sexuality, the nipple is threatening in the public sphere. The controversy around Janet Jackson’s Super Bowl “wardrobe malfunction” centered on the nipple, and the same idea seems to govern most of pop culture: stripper costumes and dancing that simulates sex are fine, but for heaven’s sake don’t let our children see a nipple! Which is ironic, considering nipples must have served the very same children’s nutritional needs not too long before.

So basically, if you wear a bra for appearance’s sake, you are repressing your sexuality and denying your real body in service to men’s continued dominance over women. Just kidding! That’s one interpretation, but it is too much of a blanket statement, even in this chilly weather we’re having. There are, of course, nuances. But the women who stopped wearing their bras in the sixties were on to something, I tell you. And no one burned any bras, by the way, contrary to popular belief — they simply took them off.

To my male readers: perhaps your reaction to breasts, and nipples, deserves revision. And to my bra-wearing readers: if any of the above was news to you, try an experiment. Take off your bra, put on a shirt you always wear with one, and take a look in the mirror. It might look odd, perhaps even shocking. But that’s your body, with which you should do as you please.