THE TELEGRAPH: What’s so wrong with being topless on the beach, asks Bryony Gordon.
Readers of a nervous disposition should look away now. Right. Have you turned the page, moved on to the obituaries, or perhaps the weather? Then I shall begin. When I go on holiday, I like to sunbathe topless. The beach towel goes down, the book comes out, and the bikini top flies off, often in the direction of a startled looking friend who has clearly never seen a pair of breasts before. Seeing as I won’t be using the top to cover my chest, I suggest that instead they use it cover their prudish eyes.
Topless sunbathing is a wonderful thing, a holiday in itself from underwired bras. But people are turning their backs on bare bosoms. In France, where the whole thing kicked off in the sixties thanks to Brigitte Bardot, a poll revealed that the majority of women would never go topless on the beach.
It gets worse: Riviera resident Joan Collins, cementing her position as feminist icon, announced that only Wags, chavs and hookers took their tops off on the beach. A group of Australian politicians tried to ban it in 2008, with one Labour MP, Paul Gibson posing the searching question: “if you’re on the beach, do you want somebody with big knockers next to you when you’re there with the kids?” Well I don’t know Paul - if you positioned yourself right, they might just keep the wind off.
And now - mamma mia! - we learn that they’ve gone all funny about it in Italy. It was reported this week that a 26-year-old topless sunbather was being investigated for “committing an obscene act”: applying suntan lotion in a manner that “troubled” two boys aged 12 and 14. Their mother complained, the lady refused to put her top back on, and police were called to the beach, just south of Rome. The sunbather’s lawyer argued that “my client... has an ample breast and is therefore naturally going to be sensuous when she applies cream to her chest.” >>> Bryony Gordon | Friday, August 13, 2010
