The expression “tits up” is American showbiz slang for an upbeat attitude, often used as a positive send-off from one woman to another. “Tits up” reminds a woman to stand up, pull her shoulders back, and flourish. It’s a cheer that reassures a sister that she will succeed.
Sarah Thornton is a sociologist and ethnographer, and when breast cancer forced her to have a double mastectomy — and she didn’t think twice about having breast implants as part of her reconstructive surgery — she received blowback from her feminist friends that she was caving to the pressures of the patriarchy. Being a lesbian and a public feminist herself, Thornton was in a unique position to self-interrogate on just why she wanted the implants, and as an author who has made a career of writing on art and culture, she went out into the field to investigate those whose work centres on women’s breasts: sex workers, milk bank donors, plastic surgeons, bra designers, and in a bit of a stretch thematically (but intriguing to read about), pagan/witchy women who bare their breasts ritually. In Tits Up, Thornton approaches each experience with curiosity and impartiality, and from lapdancers to lactation consultants, she treats everyone she encounters with dignity and genuine interest. From the fascinating facts to the engaging writing style, I loved everything about this; four and a half stars, perkily rounded up. (Note: I read an ARC through NetGalley and passages quoted may not be in their final forms.)
Tits Up explores beauty, health, respect, self-esteem, self-determination, humanness, and equality. I hope to shed light on breasts in ways that elevate their value, not just because I believe in some happy, shiny body positivity, but because these organs are emblematic of womanhood. Put another way, I have no doubt that the status of breasts — not to mention tits, titties, jugs, racks, and apexes — is integral to women’s social position. For as long as breasts are disparaged as silly boobs, we will remain the “second sex.”
I’ll start by stating that my sense of the title is closer to the British usage: “In Britain, ‘tits up’ means something has gone ‘belly up,’ like a lifeless fish floating in water”, but I do appreciate Thornton’s more positive usage (and she does suggest that the American showbiz slang might be an ironic flip of the original, like “break a leg”). Thornton starts her investigation in a strip club, and along the way interviews a variety of sex workers (which she calls an “umbrella term” that includes strippers, sensual masseuses, porn [film/online/phone] actors, sexual surrogates, professional sugar babies, dominatrices, karaoke hostesses [domis]; even Hooters waitresses, cheerleaders, and perhaps, wives], and concludes:
Strippers, as professional manipulators of male desire, are acutely aware of the dynamics of patriarchy. Sitting here, I’ve come to respect their position on the frontline, observing their shrewd navigation of the global gender war. In the past, I might have assumed that they pandered to patriarchy, but I’ve come to see this perspective as prudish and thoughtlessly classist.
Thornton’s ultimate conclusion on this type of work — as a feminist and as a cultural commentator — is that the state needs to stop policing sex work, “If some women can’t sell their bodies, then none of us actually own our bodies.” Thornton turns her attention to milk banks — interviewing those who donate surplus breast milk, those who buy it, and those who run the milk banks — and she discovers a lot about differing global attitudes to breastfeeding (Norway is the world leader, France is culturally opposed [one French woman even had her doctor advise her to stop breastfeeding after eight months because, “Your breasts belong to your husband”], and the USA is somewhere in the middle, with African-Americans least likely to breastfeed [likely a holdover from when enslaved women were forced to wetnurse]), all of which I found fascinating:
Most of the “breast is best” conversation has focused on the benefits of breastfeeding for infants, as if the health of mothers were irrelevant — a phenomenon that a militant might dub medical misogyny but which I prefer to call patriarchal obliviousness.
A final note on the American situation: the WIC (food stamps program) is the world’s largest purchaser of powdered infant formula, and Thornton writes that the WIC program is weirdly administered by the USDA instead of Health and Human Services, quoting the director of Mothers’ Milk Bank in Austin, Texas as explaining,“(It’s) because WIC is a US dairy farmers’ subsidization program. Do you think it’s their mission to improve community public health by having more breastfed children? No, they say a whole lot of things, but their mission is to make sure that the bovine industry is alive and well in the USA.” Interesting. Moving on to plastic surgery, Thornton observes as a woman has her implants removed and her remaining breast tissue repaired, and has a fascinating interview with her surgeon. We learn that more trans men than trans women have “top surgery” (likely because the first is covered by insurance while the second isn’t), most women who have a mastectomy opt for implants (again: covered by insurance, so most don’t think too hard about the alternative), and as the majority of plastic surgeons are men, they tend to recommend large implants with 1960’s-era Playboy cartoon upturned nipples (the woman surgeon that Thornton is watching even describes conferences at which the male surgeons still joke about asking men if they want to go up a cup size while their wives are already under sedation. Har har.) But although Thornton appreciates the misogynistic overtones of breast implants, she concludes:
While most feminists have seen beauty as a form of submission, others have argued that it is a means of resistance. I think the binary logic of this “structure versus agency” debate is a dead end because the problem is not an either-or. The pursuit of beauty can be both a form of obedience and an effort to subvert and surmount. I read a compelling article by critic Rita Felski, arguing that feminists need to craft thicker descriptions of aesthetic experience so we can balance the political costs of being beautiful with the emotional benefits. Only then can we do justice to the reasons why humans pursue and take solace in beauty.
I didn’t take much away from the section on bra designers (other than the evolving history of women’s “intimates” that still keep us covered, and controlled, more than men), and while the final section at the Fool’s Journey pagan restorative retreat did make for interesting reading, it’s tangential to the topic at best:
Through being here and researching the place of breasts in spirituality, I have come to understand that there is no necessary opposition between feminism and religion. Women’s emancipation is not exclusively secular. In fact, our liberation may be enhanced by flights of fancy and leaps of faith.
Naturally, there’s a lot more information in Tit’s Up than can be included here, but I want to reiterate that this is a very pleasing and pleasant read. It makes a good companion piece to a book I read last year — Butts: A Backstory, on the history of male attraction to the female behind — and as with that book, I think it’s important to stop every now and then and interrogate the culture we’re living in: we may find ourselves in a time of hyperfixation on and sexualization of breasts, but that has not been the case across global cultures and throughout human history. So when a socially acute woman like Thornton makes the decision to include breast implants as a part of her post-mastectomy reconstruction — despite being very aware of the counteracting pressures put upon her by the patriarchy and her sisterhood of feminist friends — we ought to acknowledge, even celebrate, what that decision meant to her own sense of self and mental well-being:
When I observe women who relish their cleavage, I am delighted by their good fortune. Breasts and chests are the literal front and center of body positivity.
