It’s getting ‘cold’ here in Barcelona, and it’s been a few weeks since I have seen breasts that were not my own. I specifically remember the last time because I was shivering in my sweater, jean jacket, and suede boots as I attempted to enjoy the ‘sea breeze’. My scarf was hanging onto my neck for dear life. But, here was this woman, wearing nothing but a bikini bottom and delightfully running into the sea. Clearly she was Nordic, and so were her breasts. She looked out of place on the seashore in early November, not because she was topless but because to locals it is now Winter, and Winter requires that we wear clothes. Lots of them.
I’ve thought a lot about breasts since moving to Barcelona. And since I live 7 minutes away from the (mostly gay and nude) beach, I found myself thinking about breasts on a daily basis. As anyone who has lived in North America knows, seeing breasts in public space takes some getting used to. It was illegal for women to go topless in Toronto until a few years ago. Given this fact, it is normal to see young North American men freaking the hell out when they get to the beaches of Europe (identifying features: they are the ones wearing bathing trunks down past their knees, standing in a circle, with their heads flailing about unable to focus on a given point). The young women of North America also freak out, because they can finally get an even tan (identifying feature: they are the ones with brown skin, white breasts and an uncertain smile on their lips).
The thing that is the most interesting to me about all of this is not the breasts themselves, but how groups of local friends and family (men, women, and children) can all hang out on the beach together and not have a heart attack because they are in the presence of the naked breasts of their mother, sister, friend, or girlfriend. Can we de-sexualize breasts to this extent!? Can we actually make them not matter?
This summer I noticed a change in my own perception of breasts. I had become so used to seeing them that the presence of covered ones actually made me see them as sexual objects. But that is the case with all things forbidden and out of sight: they become desirable and fetishized. A naked body is simply a body; no part of the body gains importance over another. However, a selectively covered body gives importance to the parts that it is selectively covering. Those parts gain a particular meaning. By covering the breasts on the beach so as not to draw attention and supposedly arouse sexual desire, we are actually sexualizing a public space that does not need to be sexualized.
