So, lately I’ve been thinking about foobies (fake boobies), as in getting a pair.

Why now? Why when I’ve been 8 years breastless? Good questions. I admit that I am very frustrated by the struggle to find clothing that fits the breastless me. Tops without a plunging or loose neckine, tops without darts to form the top around a bustline, camisoles without a built-in bra shelf…all of these are fashion. Well, I’d like to look nice too. But just as I am.

And so I have been considering foobies. But wait? What parameters would I then be following? Breasts ‘on’ for work? Breasts ‘on’ for a night out? Beasts ‘on’ or ‘off’ depending on mood? Just thinking about it gives me a headache.

Sadly, the dialogue that exists for women after mastectomy is a focus on making the body appear ‘whole’ or ‘sexy’. There is an implied message that surgery scars and missing breasts are imperfections to be hidden and that beauty lies in symmetry and the illusion of health. Then along comes a story that challenges that. Here it is:

I am not my breasts. I just needed a little reminder of that. Foobies are off the table…and my body.

Oṃ śānti śānti śānti