Boobs? Just another feature — like arms, legs, or WiFi signal.

Boobs: Not a statement, just a feature. Flaunt ’em, hide ’em, vibe with ‘’’ em — your body, your rules. Confidence? Now that’s the flex.

When you’re out in the city, how often are you low-key (or high-key) thinking about your boobs? Like, do you have a whole process? Are you out here strategizing how much to show or hide, or are you just vibing? Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. Back in the day, I was obsessed with my boobs. Like, way more than I am now. I’ll never forget this white Benetton dress I had — royal blue flowers, tight as a wetsuit, and the top? A full-on bustier. I wore that thing down the street like it was just another Tuesday.

And okay, maybe in L.A. that would’ve been normal, but South Side Chicago? Nah. Picture this: I, a teenage girl, basically walking around in a bikini in the middle of fall while everyone else was drowning in Birkenstocks and oversized hoodies.

I was a whole one-woman Mardi Gras parade, okay? And yeah, I got looks. But like, I couldn’t even be mad or hit ’em with the classic, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer” (you know, that go-to clapback we all had on deck for creeps). I mean, I chose the fit, so I had to own it. No regrets, just vibes. Okay, so like, normally I’m not about that life — you know, the whole being stared at the thing. But this dress? It hit differently. It was like I was choosing to be seen instead of trying to ghost through the streets like I usually do. Low-key felt like a boss move.

For once, I felt like a full-on woman. Like, sexy, confident, all of it. My boobs were out here living their best life, unapologetic and abundant. It was a vibe.

Now, let me set the scene: I went to this super preppy high school where “sexy” was a whisper, not a shout. Think semi-see-through blouses (like the one in the pic above) or tie your shirt in a little knot to show a sliver of stomach. Cleavage? Nah, that was too much. It was labelled “slutty” (and can we just agree to cancel that word already?). Anyway, I didn’t wear this skin-tight bustier dress to school — no way. I saved it for the walk to my bestie’s house, which was over a mile away.

Looking back, it feels kinda wild, like I was walking some fine line between feeling dangerous and being in danger. Like, I’d swapped my resting bitch face for a “come hither” vibe, and honestly? Anything could’ve happened. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

Fast forward to now, and when I get dressed to make a statement, it’s a different kind of power. I’m more about that subtle sexiness — being smart, funny, and unapologetically female. My boobs are more like, “Can I zip this hoodie over them?” instead of “Hey, look at me!” But the other night? I wore this blouse to a party and noticed the top button was undone, showing a little cleavage. I buttoned it. Then unbuttoned it. And you know what? Fuck it. It was fun.

I felt free. It took me back to those days when I’d show a little skin on purpose, not because my blouse was messy. And honestly? It was kinda inspiring.

The Bottom Line

In the end, it’s all about owning your narrative — whether you’re flaunting a bold look or dialling it back with a hint of mystery. Your body isn’t a statement to be read; it’s a canvas of self-expression that evolves as you do. Every outfit, every glimpse, every intentional reveal is a moment of empowerment, a reminder that you define your beauty and confidence.

So, wear what feels right, flip the script on expectations, and keep that vibe unapologetically you.