Bra Strap
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A Bra Strap is not supposed to be seen, at least this is what the social norms dictate in many cultures. We try to hide it behind the thick straps of underslip or hook it in the blouse so that it is not exposed. It becomes almost a sisterhood obligation to tuckin bra straps of fellow females if their strap crosses its boundary 'unknowingly'. However hard one may try, the straps are still there, having an invisible presence. They taunt you from those layers of fabrics which are trying helplessly to smother them. They snap and they move with any movement of their owner. Despite all the cautions,...
A Bra Strap is not supposed to be seen, at least this is what the social norms dictate in many cultures. We try to hide it behind the thick straps of underslip or hook it in the blouse so that it is not exposed. It becomes almost a sisterhood obligation to tuckin bra straps of fellow females if their strap crosses its boundary 'unknowingly'. However hard one may try, the straps are still there, having an invisible presence. They taunt you from those layers of fabrics which are trying helplessly to smother them. They snap and they move with any movement of their owner. Despite all the cautions, all the deliberation, the straps are still there, staring stubbornly into your face. This is what the book exposes. The stories of everyday women, real women, who hide their identity, their femininity, their weaknesses and desires behind the layers of commitment, duties, social obligations, but the 'realyou' is still there, like a brastrap, snapping and exposing.
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