Screenshot: Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery

The Guardian published “The End of Cleavage,” on Tuesday, a piece bemoaning the death of boobie-baring fashion, citing everything from the #MeToo movement to expanding fashion markets in the Middle East as an explanation for this new wave of conservative dress.

...look harder and you can see, particularly in the trajectory of how women out of their teen years dress, the ash-cloud that has settled over fashion in the wake of the #MeToo cultural volcano. It is not that sexy clothes are suddenly a bad thing. It’s that they no longer stand for something straightforwardly joyous.

I quibble with the notion that before the #MeToo movement gained momentum in 2017, sexy clothes were inherently more joyous to wear. I offer my many walks from apartment to train station in the years prior as ample evidence to the contrary. But the piece is still full of observable truths: Finding a miniskirt or a cleavage friendly top either on the runway or in retail stores isn’t difficult, but some form-fitting styles have been slowly falling out of fashion, giving way to a wave of shapeless crop tops and trousers that are a step away from being marketed as JNCO Jeans for the modern minimalist woman (who should I send my invoice to, Everlane?).

Muslim designer Hana Tajima has collaborated with Uniqlo for third year in a row to design clothes that are modest and fashion forward. The high necked frilly frocks of Batsheva came up repeatedly on my Twitter timeline and Instagram feed. And every few months a new article crops up announcing that a fat ass is still very much in and titties are very much out, out, out.

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I adore Batsheva’s shamelessly ‘80s take on the prairie dress; there’s beauty in garishness. But while nothing is preventing me from wearing a dress that will make my tits look like a tent—or, alternatively, smushed into a singular, flattened plate tectonic of mammary—I’m done pretending that a designer has breasts larger than a respectable C cup in mind when they’re at the drawing board. They don’t. That’s the only explanation as to why so nany of these goddamn dresses turn into a nightmare of ruffles around the chest! As Amanda Mull wrote for Nylon, there’s a skinny privilege in pulling off this kind of look. I’d also argue that there’s plenty of lil’ perky titty privilege at play too.

Now, as the fashion goons, Pornhub users, and the dwindling sales and waning relevancy of Hooters indicate that boobs are so yesterday, I must admit: I’m a little hurt!

It’s nice that there are more options out there for those who would like to dress modestly, either for personal or religious reasons. And I’m not thirsty to be objectified, but I’m a human fucking being who doesn’t mind a little misplaced validation. And as someone with big ol’ titties who is finally—at the not-so-tender age of 27—accepting that these glandular sacs on my chest aren’t going anywhere, it is cosmically unfair that I’m embracing my boobs when they’ve become chopped liver.

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I’m glad everyone (read: white people) is finally realizing that ass is good, but must this shift come at my tiddy’s expense?

Of course, one may wonder if it’s possible for boobs to ever really be out. I’m sure there will be plenty of people in the comments—who didn’t manage to read this far into this piece—who will say I’m being unfair! That they often felt unfeminine and ostracized for having small breasts! Fair! People are assholes! And for the record, it’s largely in jest that I’m legitimizing the search queries of Pornhub aficionados, fashion gurus, and outdated modes of selling chicken wings that reek of a baby boomer machismo. But a cynical part of myself is a little heated. Were breasts were ever really in when buying anything larger than a DD cup bra has always been a struggle? Were sizable breasts ever really in when perky boobies, no larger than a handful, dominate retail ads and online shopping sites? Were breasts ever really in when button up blouses geared toward boob owners still aren’t made with large breasts in mind?

So here’s where I’m at: For my own selfish reasons I am eager for boobs to make a “comeback,” and I want those of us who have big ones to be proud of them.

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I will buy a low cut dress without worrying that the titties look saggy. I will wear a graphic tee and won’t care if the graphic looks stretched out. I will wear a snug ass turtleneck sweater with pride, uncaring that I will literally look like tits on legs. Perhaps this is a mission I must stake out alone. Perhaps I will start a movement. But I won’t rest until boobs are respected again!