Harvard University

I remember the first time I wore a bra. I came home from school in the fifth grade, and my mom handed me a white cloth to put on beneath my shirt. “You’re a big girl now,” she said, “You need to wear this.” From that moment on, my life was forever changed. That same year, I was taught that the sun would someday die, and I, feeling the pressure of the contraption beneath my shirt, realized that my childhood, too, would eventually dissipate just like the sun. The first bra paved way for a second, and then a third, and then, by the fourth bra I had advanced to the Lady Type, the ones that my mom…