I was 17—and all the way across the world—when I first realised I could leave my house without wearing a bra. It was month one into my exchange programme in Mexico and on her way out to go grocery shopping, my host mother asked if I would join her. I nodded, then turned around to go to my room. “Where are you going?” she asked, confused. “To put on my bra,” I responded, baffled by her question. She laughed: “These things don’t matter here. I’m not wearing one either.”
Life was never the same. I had always detested everything about bras: the restrictive feeling, the fact that the underwire either dug into my ribs or didn’t support me at all, that the straps left red marks on my skin, and that no matter how many sizes I tried, no bra ever seemed to fit right. Still, it had never occurred to me that I could just choose not to wear one. Bras, I believed, were an unavoidable punishment for having breasts.
The sentiment is hardly original. In her early teens, Psychology student Ayesha Qureshi* also hated wearing bras, a subject that frequently led to arguments with her mother. “She would try to get me to wear a training bra and I would simply refuse,” the 23-year-old recalls, “I have a lot of sensory issues and I hated the feeling of the bra digging into me or just having another piece of clothing on my skin.”
Qureshi also clearly remembers the moment she gave in. After performing at an inter-school dance competition, she changed out of her costume into her regular clothes but skipped the training bra her mother had given her. “When I went outside, my classmate’s mom saw me and asked my mom if I wasn’t wearing a bra. She pulled me aside and had a long conversation with me about why I should. I don’t think it was ill-intentioned; it was her idea of looking out for me.”
Sam*, 22, was mortified the first time he had to wear a bra. “I remember being so embarrassed by it,” he shares, adding that it’s one of his first memories of experiencing gender dysphoria. To avoid emotional distress and feel closer to his preferred gender, he now rarely wears a bra even underneath tank tops or crop tops. “For the most part, no one notices, and it definitely helps that I have next to no chest,” he notes, adding, “I am sure I would have faced more scrutiny if I had anything bigger than a double-A cup.”
“Once you let it all out, there’s no going back. I think wearing a bra is one of those things—like makeup or waxing—that people say feels good but it’s only because the patriarchy has made them believe it,”
Twenty-year-old art student Parnika Agarwal and UX designer Rieva have also avoided wearing bras since they were in school. “It wasn’t much of a conscious decision. It just happened because of the amount of time I spent at home,” recalls Rieva, “My family consists of two other women who also never wear a bra at home and never ask me to unless we have guests over.”
Agarwal’s proverbial bra-burning was meant to avoid physical discomfort. “Once you let it all out, there’s no going back. I think wearing a bra is one of those things—like makeup or waxing—that people say feels good but it’s only because the patriarchy has made them believe it,” she shrugs. Last year, Agarwal owned one bra. This year, the number has gone up to three. “I wear a bra if I’m wearing a really transparent top—not because I don’t want to have my nipples out but because I know people are going to stare and I won’t be able to function after that,” she shares. “Sometimes, a peek of a bra here and there also looks hot and can create a cool contrast with your top. I mostly use it as an accessory.” Rieva agrees, confessing she wears bras “less to hide things and more to make them look good”.
Yet hiding has always been one of the main reasons bras exist. In her 2024 book Tits Up, Sarah Thornton points out that nipples are perhaps the most taboo and censored parts of the body, so much so that even the word is avoided in conversations. So, when Skims’s nipple push-up bra with built-in artificial nipples came out in 2023 (by this time, a pandemic-induced year inside the house meant I had ditched my own bra nearly permanently and resorted to wearing baggy, black T-shirts outside to prevent people from noticing), it was initially met with shock from internet users.
However, many observed that for trans women and breast cancer survivors (although the bra’s underwire means that those with mastectomies cannot wear it), the nipple push-up bra was a powerful means of reaffirming their gender. For me personally, the impact was smaller: the realisation that visible nipples were ‘in style’ helped me grow more comfortable with wearing clothes I previously would have shied away from wearing without a bra, clothes that were neither baggy nor black.
“I think it’s a good thing that going braless has become fashionable because why should we have to cover up a regular non-sexual body part to make others feel comfortable?” Sam questions, “I hope this doesn’t stay a trend and actually normalises being braless whenever someone wants or needs to.”
Meanwhile, 24-year-old Neeharika Nene has always been a fan of bras—she’s the only Gen Zer I speak with to say this. “I much prefer wearing a bra unless I’m sleeping,” she notes. “I feel so unsupported without one and my back starts to hurt.” She suggests that much of her fellow Gen Zers’ hatred for the item of clothing may come from not being able to find the right size and the right bra. In Tits Up, Thornton agrees, pointing out that bras were once custom-fit and designed by local tailors for individuals rather than being mass manufactured.
Yet breasts in general seem to be in style. From Charli XCX’s braless Brat look and Florence Pugh going without to Bianci Censori’s nude look at the 2025 Grammys and the fake boobs at Duran Lantink’s fall 2025 show at Paris Fashion Week, no one in pop culture seems to currently care about their bra size.
Stylist Tania Fadte, 44, who has gone braless for as long as she can remember, isn’t sure if these fashion trends translate to social acceptance. “The Duran Lantink show made me uncomfortable,” she admits, “I saw a reel going around of the male model wearing the fake boobs, bobbing them around and laughing. It just rubbed me the wrong way.” She adds that she felt liberated and at ease breastfeeding her daughter in public but is still met with stares for ditching her bra.
In the last decade or so, pornography and mainstream media have fed into the oversexualisation and objectification of breasts, adding to their perception as mere tools for men’s pleasure. Many Gen Zers confess that on the rare occasions when they do wear a bra, it is only to shield themselves from the male gaze. “Just the idea of being ogled at by a man on the street is terrifying,” Qureshi concedes, “I mostly wear a bra to avoid the other negative feelings that would come up.” Twenty-four-year-old Sara Attari* agrees. “I sometimes feel like when I’m not wearing a bra outside, I’m getting stared at, even if that’s not the case. I feel like I’m being provocative,” she says.
Attari shares that in the last few months she has been wearing silicone nipple covers as a replacement for bras because it’s the closest she can get to being braless without feeling like a provocateur. Rieva, too, uses boob tape or nipple pasties under backless or bikini tops. Though these may sometimes lead to skin irritation, they feel like an effective shield against being stared at in public. As Thornton quotes in Tits Up, “Even if we don’t subscribe to that belief system, we feel it.”
Most Gen Zers feel guilted by their families into the belief that going braless is a morally questionable act that draws attention to oneself. Most Gen Zers continue to fight it.
Attari’s fear of being a provocateur doesn’t come from nowhere: every Gen Zer who has rejected bras reveals that it is not without backlash from their families. On occasion, Qureshi’s mother has told her off for her side boob being visible at home through her top’s arm holes. Sam’s aunt told him to wear less-revealing clothes, arguing, “What am I supposed to do if ten boys come chasing you?” Agarwal’s mother has an issue with her not wearing a bra due to the claim—unproven—that it makes breasts sag. Even in my home, most explosive fights originate from the same problem: my parents noticing me trying to sneak out of the house, obviously braless. Most Gen Zers feel guilted by their families into the belief that going braless is a morally questionable act that draws attention to oneself. Most Gen Zers continue to fight it. Fortunately, our hatred for bras is more powerful than any force compelling us to wear one.
