You can't wear revealing clothes because of the sex addicts. Instead, you wear big bras, big pants and baggy tops. You're taught to respect others' addictions.
I have loads of underwear, but only wear the bras because I never wear knickers.
Maternity bras are the Alcatraz under-wear. If they were a door they'd have a mortise lock, a padlock and the rest.
Nothing shocks me anymore. I've embraced men in thongs, I've embraced women with padded bras. I mean, I can embrace Larry King saying 'fierce.'
Onstage I've been hit by a grapefruit, beercans, eggs, spit, money, cigarette butts, Mandies, Quaaludes, joints, bras, panties, and a fist.
I grew up in Long Island City. When I was growing up, my parents owned a women's clothing store in Queens. It was for older women. I got my bras there, until I realized I didn't want those huge, taupe bras. Everything was beige, with massive amounts of hooks.
My boobs are, like, huge. My whole life, buying a bra was a nightmare. What I used to do when I moved to LA, I found places like Frederick's of Hollywood that make bras for... strippers.
I am loving visible bras with shirts, high-waisted pants and oversize blazers.
I sort of feel sorry for gays being the last ones at the sexual revolution window. We've had liberalizing rules on divorce. We've had the sexual revolution. We've had, you know, the pill, and burning bras and rampant premarital sex and polymorphous perversity.
I've been involved with Berlei for almost my whole career. I actually discovered them well over 10 years ago, probably 2002 at least. My mom introduced me. She said, "Listen, you should try these bras." And I was like, "Really?" So I tried it and since then I've never worn another bra.
I got stopped in front of the bras in Victoria's Secret; I get interrogated in airport bathrooms. I went to South Africa in January to see my family, and even there people would stop me and ask, "Sasha, who's A?" Even my grandma.
I'm big-busted... I can't always wear the cutest bras, and it makes me so mad.
Now I usually try not to give advice. Information, yes, advice, no. But, what has worked for me may not work for you. Well, take for instance what has worked for me. Wigs. Tight clothes. Push up bras.
For women... bras, panties, bathing suits, and other stereotypical gear are visual reminders of a commercial, idealized feminine image that our real and diverse female bodies can't possibly fit. Without these visual references, each individual woman's body demands to be accepted on its own terms. We stop being comparatives. We begin to be unique.
Today's woman puts on wigs, fake eyelashes, false nails, sixteen pounds of make-up/shadows/blushes/creams, living bras, various pads that would make a linebacker envious, has implants and assorted other surgeries, then complains that she cannot find a 'real' man
On a good night, I get underwear, bras, and hotel-room keys thrown onstage... You start to think that you're Tom Jones.
Women's minds have been mutilated and muted to such a state that 'Free Spirit' has been branded into them as a brand name for girdles and bras rather than as the name of our verb-ing, be-ing Selves.
I'm a big supporter of this product for women. And [my relationship with the brand Berlei] was so organic. I would go to the store and buy 40 or 50 bras every year because I could only get them in Australia at the time. And then eventually they heard that I would come and take all the stock.
During the era when women were burning their bras - which, by the way, they never actually did - but when women were first becoming liberated, I was 23. And I met a woman who asked, 'Don't you feel bad because you're sort of acting like the stupid airhead blonde?' And I totally surprised myself. I said, 'Liberation can also come from the inside.'
Bras are a ludicrous invention; but if you make bralessness a rule, you're just subjecting yourself to yet another repression.
The best guys are the ones who were born in the '60s. They are used to women being independent. They were brought up by mothers who were burning their bras and protesting.
I recently went mad and spent 1,000 in one afternoon on bras and knickers. I love classy, lacy stuff that makes you feel dead sexy knowing you've got it on. I've never worn stockings and suspenders, though. But I could imagine they'd make you feel really sexy worn under something formal. I think I'll save that experience and wear them under my wedding dress.
I'm not out burning bras, but I'm very opinionated about women owning their power.
Bras are like accessories to me.
Friends are like bras: close to your heart and there for support.
The wear time on clothing for plus-sized women is half the life span of a straight-sized woman's clothing. Straight-sized women's bras can last them three, six months? Our bras don't last as long as a straight-sized woman's bras normally do because we have more movement; we have more weight.
I learned a lot about pain and suffering during 'Pan Am.' We had to wear very constricting period-correct girdles and bras. After that, I learned to read a script with an eye toward the undergarments.
The unsaid message of that endless rack of juniors' pushup bras? No matter what size you are, it still isn't good enough.
I spent my whole childhood in leotards, tutus, sports bras; I was showing my midriff from the age of three.
I had $20 million in the bank, girls are following me all over the f - place, people call my name everywhere I go. What would I change? And then one day you get onstage and you see two little girls who look like they are 11 years old sticking their tongues out and pulling their bras down and you quit touring. That's what happened to me.
Where else but in America could the women's liberation movement take off their bras, then go on TV to complain about their lack of support?
If God hadn't meant us to hunt men, he wouldn't have given us Wonder Bras.
I love high-street fashion. I'm all about Topshop and Zara - even American Apparel. I love T-shirts and vests - simple things you can just live in. American Apparel also does the best bras - they're amazing.
I'll do anything to pass the ERA [Equal Rights Amendment], even if it means wearing babydoll nightgowns and padded bras, if that will make people less afraid.
Justine reached for a fresh tissue and clamped it to Lucy’s nose as if she was a child. “Friends are the support bras of life. We don’t let each other down. Right?
I'm just glad that I'm the musical equivalent of a character actress, because blues singers can keep singing and having an audience at 35, and someone like Madonna's gonna have to find something else to do, 'cos I don't care how pointy those bras are that she wears, they're still gonna look a little odd when she's 55!
I have so many bras. I have so many, and then they get lost, and I look for a simple nude one to wear, and I can't find one because there's, like, lace and crazy colors that I never wear.
Bra-burning never happened. It was completely made up by the media. A couple of women protesting a Miss America pageant threw some bras into a garbage can, and somehow that became this longstanding idea of feminists as bra-burners.
Lingerie has gotten really cute, with little booty underwear and the cute little bras. They've gotten really detailed. I saw one the other day with little baby pearls on the strap. I had to have it.
We only have one agenda, which is to make 'em laugh their pants off. Unless they are girls, of course, when it is to make them laugh their bras off so we can get a quick look.
Men sucked. They were the root of every problem any woman could ever have. They were the reason for bras, the need for makeup, hair stylists, shaving legs, and high heels that made the arch feel like it had a steel rod slammed up it. They were picky, arrogant, argumentative, and so damned certain of themselves <...>.
I felt like I had to be conscious of myself as a girl for the first time. I had to be more feminine. I had to look a certain way. And it's something that you want to suffer in silence, but I would go onto movie sets and they would bring out bras that were basically binders, because there were continuity problems between months.
When I was a youth, to be called 'African' was a diss. At school, the African kids used to lie and say they were Jamaican. So when I first came in the game, and I'm saying lyrics like, 'I make Nigerians proud of their tribal scars/ My bars make you push up your chest like bras,' that was a big deal for me.
Bras should be comfortable. I hate when you have all those bras with all that wiring that poke into your ribs, and you take it off at the end of the day, and it feels good. It shouldn't feel good to take off your bra at the end of the day. It should be something that feels good throughout the day.
I can never find the right bras.
Friends are the support bras of life.
One boob was a 36B while the other was 36D - I've had big boobs since the sixth grade and walked around with double bras on for five years before getting surgery.
I'm going to be pulling my pants up all day, and I'm just going to have a terrible day. Because if your clothes don't fit, just like bras or anything, it's not a good day.
Of all the restaurants I visited in my childhood and adolescence, it was Michel Bras that I remembered most vividly and it was the chef himself to whom, early on in my cooking, I would make the most references. I don't mean that I tried to cook like him. Rather, that I tried to think like him.
Rappin bout blunts and broads, Tits and bras, ménage à trois, sex in expensive cars.
I'd been a child during the 1960s when women burned their bras and hundreds of thousands gathered in protests against the Vietnam War. As a climber, I've felt connected to a similar nonconformist culture, one opposed to society's increasing materialism, pollution and corruption. Our approach to the rock—clean, traditional climbing, with the least dependence on equipment—was an extension of this ethical viewpoint.
At the demonstration of sixty feminists against the Miss America Pageant in 1968, when the women filled a trash can with bras, girdles, curlers and spike-heeled shoes, the bra-burning myth was launched by the media and, in spite of its inaccuracy and spiteful intent, put radical feminism on the map.
There was just this amazing individuality. It's just a whole different world of optimism and fearlessness, women taking off their bras and dancing around naked, and a political hopefulness and involvement.
I've been around the world and I've had bras made in different places, and each time I'm experiencing the same troubles: the painful shoulders, the underwire cutting into my flesh.
Le plus beau vêtement qui puisse habiller une femme, ce sont les bras de l'homme qu'elle aime. Mais, pour celles qui n'ont pas eu la chance de trouver ce bonheur, je suis là.
I tweeted once that I was jealous of bands like All Time Low 'cause they get so many bras thrown at them. So, now fans throw bras with messages written in them.
I have to wear two sports bras when I do my cardio. It takes a lot to hold these puppies up!
As a young girl I was a real tomboy, only listening to myself. I carried on with this attitude even as a woman and when I first launched the Sonia Rykiel line, and said to women to remove their bras or when I designed sweaters with stitches inside out, everybody said to me that it was crazy and risky, but I ignored what they said and I did what I felt was right at the time.
I have never kissed a woman, but Madonna in all her glory with coney bras and burgundy black 'Vogue' lips makes me rethink my heterosexuality.
If age someday grounds my feet and wilts my port de bras, what vestige of the old life will be left? The signs that I was a dancer will gradually fade like stripes on a beach towel. Even my knowledge of the art form, reaped in sweat over decades, could be lost over time.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience.
More info...