Bras.
Suddenly, overwhelmingly, to the point of putting aside for now all other work, I am besotted with old bras. This has sort of come from nowhere… although I am sure once I get going, I will be able to think and more clearly map the thought process that got me here.
I suppose it started with the bra I found in the Cambridge junk shop. There’s a photo on here somewhere. I might re-post it. It has been hung on the studio wall looking at me. I have done a little bit of embroidery on it, but I don’t think anywhere near enough. This garment needs to be obsessed over.
I am sure it also has something to do with my age… 52… I toyed with coyness, but what’s the point in that? I am watching the women around me deal with this age, stage in their lives. I find it fascinating. There is a fine line between relaxing into who you are, and letting yourself go. Also a fine line between living life to the full and being desperate to prove yourself younger than you are. Internally, it basically comes down to personality which way you go, but others put the label on it… and there are so many variables.
I leave other people to decide which way I am headed (I suspect towards the desperate frantic, “youth vampire” thing).
I want to deal with then, the bra as a way of illustrating my point. I buy ever more expensive underwear for myself to make me feel better, even though few people see it, the hope is they might see the effect it has. In contrast, I am on the hunt for decrepit, derelict bras from jumble sales and charity shops (although what I really want are the charity shop rejects, the sort they could never put on the racks).
I’m not even sure about the extent of the sexual aspect here. It appears at first to be more about self esteem, but you can’t strip out the sexual from an issue that involves a woman no longer being unable to bear children can you?
And this is where the blogging might get tricky. I do not intend to map my menopausal journey for all to be horrified by… you will be relieved to read! But as I have written before, the highly personal work is the work that is human and universal. Art about life. Do let me know when it gets uncomfortable won’t you? Because those are the bits I like!
