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Is It For My Breasts That You Love me?

Or is it my legs? Or my arse? And if it’s any of these, well, as a woman, should I have a problem with that?

Anne Sexton, 12 Apr 2012

I was at a party and having a conversation with Richard; or to be more accurate, I was talking to him and he was chatting to my breasts. Not being over-endowed in the boob department, my breasts don’t necessarily catch the eye. Furthermore because it was a cold night my neckline was eminently respectable. Under these circumstances it seemed odd that my breasts were exciting such fascination, but they were. Every couple of seconds his eyes darted back

down to my chest. On one level it could be seen as flattering, but it wasn’t since he was not interested in me, only my boobs. I could tell this by the fact that he wasn’t listening to a word I’d said. For one thing, he kept calling me Joanne. I was prepared to give Richard the benefit of the doubt, given that it was loud and he’d been drinking, but when he started quizzing me about Australia despite me telling him quite clearly that I was from South Africa, I decided I’d had enough and excused myself. The famous film theorist Laura Mulvey posited the idea of the male gaze. According to Mulvey, in film, the camera focuses in on various body parts – the lips, the breasts or the legs – symbolically fragmenting a woman into objects for men’s enjoyment. This renders a woman less than human, and instead makes her a series of desirable morsels for the consumption by the male gaze. I’ve always had my doubts about this

theory, but after my conversation with Richard I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t feel flattered – in fact, quite the opposite. I felt objectified. To sexually objectify someone is to treat him or her as less than a person, to disregard the fact that they have thoughts, feelings and depth by focusing on them as nothing more than a vehicle for your own (potential) pleasure. Richard made me feel less like a woman who has breasts and more like a pair of breasts who has a woman attached. That’s hardly a compliment – it was downright insulting! A few weeks later I was out at a club and I met Fionn. While talking to him I couldn’t help but notice his arms.



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