As I got ready for a Saturday night birthday party in Bushwick, my boyfriend and I exchanged hesitant looks. It had been a tiring week, we were hungry, and let’s face it—we weren’t as young as we used to be. The Brooklyn neighborhood wasn’t exactly close by. But when I slipped on a white Mugler babydoll T-shirt with ring details mimicking nipple piercings, we both suddenly felt more energized.

At the party, a beautiful young woman who had just moved to New York a month earlier complimented my outfit. “Nipples are most attractive when they point upward at a 45-degree angle,” she declared with authority.

Lately, it seems everyone has an opinion on this very familiar aspect of womanhood. Nipples were everywhere on the fall runways: In New York, Christian Siriano framed them with tulle and visible boning, while in Milan, model Amelia Gray strutted for Dsquared2 in a lavish sheer gown cascading into dramatic feathers. In Paris, Alaïa sent models down the runway in fishnet shirts and sheer, stocking-like tops. Even at Cannes, where “naked” dresses were officially banned, Charli XCX wore a translucent lilac YSL gown that just barely skirted the new rules.

But the biggest spectacle last season came from Duran Lantink, now creative director at Jean Paul Gaultier, carrying on the brand’s tradition of bold imagery. His Paris show was full of kitsch, drama, and exaggerated silhouettes, but what really caught the world’s attention was the oversized silicone chest plate worn by male model Chandler Frye. Some loved the campy theatricality, while others saw it as a mocking gesture. Was it drag—a creative celebration of exaggerated femininity—or an uncomfortable joke?

Elsewhere, designers have been exploring the theme in subtler ways. Nensi Dojaka has built her reputation on lingerie-inspired tops and dresses that look as if delicate bralettes and underwire have been placed on the outside of the garment. “This contrast plays with presence and absence—it’s a visual and tactile duality that only corsetry and boning can achieve,” she explained.

At Valentino’s fall 2025 show, a public bathroom served as the perfect setting for a collection that toyed with secrecy and exposure. A shimmering satin bra paired with high-waisted underwear played with the idea of what’s meant to be seen—or not. The most striking look was a sheer full-length gown layered over a playful baby-pink satin skirt. The model, an older woman with loosely tied-back white hair, was a rare reminder of how seldom we see exposed breasts on women past a certain age.

“In the ’80s and earlier, undergarments were absolutely not meant to be seen,” says fashion historian Natalie Nudell. “Historically, it was considered improper.” Since the overturning of Roe v. Wade, she notes, there’s been backlash against female and sexual empowerment. Yet, “women’s fashion has become more sexualized—but not necessarily for the male gaze.”

All this unfolds against a contradictory cultural backdrop. On one side, there’s the cleavage-heavy “boom boom” aesthetic popular in conservative circles, a far cry from the modest twinsets and bouclé knits of figures like Phyllis Schlafly. On the other, there’s a shift toward subtlety. Breast reductions have risen by about 65% since 2019, and those seeking augmentation no longer always want to go bigger.

“The trend now is for smaller breasts—I’ve heard them called ‘yoga boobs,’ ‘ballet-body boobs’—and more women are removing implants,” says plastic surgeon Dr. Niki Christopoulos. It’s no surprise the trend borrows fitness-related terms—more women are embracing natural, athletic silhouettes.Women today are more focused on fitness than in the past, and some are adjusting their preferences accordingly. “In the ’90s, media trends favored a fuller bust,” said Dr. Lyle Leipziger, a plastic surgeon with over 25 years of experience. “Now, there’s a shift toward staying fit and active—plus the rise of weight-loss medications like semaglutide.” This growing interest in smaller breasts may not just be about comfort or rejecting male gaze, but part of a renewed obsession with thinness.

Attitudes toward actresses baring their breasts onscreen have also shifted dramatically. In 2003, Meg Ryan’s full-frontal scene in In The Cut was seen by some as the beginning of her career decline—back then, modesty was expected to maintain an A-list actress’s untouchable image. Elizabeth Berkley’s career seemed to tank after Showgirls (1995), with her exposed body drawing as much mockery as the film’s over-the-top plot. But recently, Emma Stone in Poor Things and Mikey Madison in Anora (not to mention Nicole Kidman in Babygirl) were praised for their fearless performances. Today, showing one’s breasts is increasingly viewed as an artistic choice rather than a scandal.

Could I navigate this evolving—yet oddly rigid—space? I thought of Mugler’s daring top, but also the surprisingly wearable bullet bras from Miu Miu’s Paris show last spring. Beneath delicate knits and fur stoles, their retro femininity felt comforting yet fresh. Mrs. Prada called them a “balm for difficult times,” but those sharp points also demanded confidence to pull off.

Back in my small Irish hometown, far from Miu Miu boutiques, I found a close-enough alternative at a local lingerie shop. I hadn’t been there since my teens, when the rules around bodies felt impossible: thin was good, but having no breasts was bad. If you weren’t slim, breasts could somehow compensate. I was neither particularly slender nor well-endowed, so after a brief, awkward phase of bra-stuffing, I mostly ignored them.

Now, in my mid-30s, wearing a bullet bra, I was struck by how well it suited my in-between shape—lifting without trying to mimic youth. I felt polished, sexy, and, as the name suggests, armored.

“You look like my mother,” my mom remarked as I adjusted my sweater.
“I know!” I replied, pleased.

Trends about body parts will always feel contradictory because bodies vary so much. We have the breasts we have, fashionable or not. Though I’ve long moved past teenage insecurities, there was something thrilling about the Mugler top—owning my modest shape with intention. “Mugler has always celebrated the human form and reimagined silhouettes,” said Adrian Corsin, the brand’s managing director.

Later that night, I paired the top with a red vinyl skirt, the high waist emphasizing the faux piercings. I was surprised by how defined my silhouette looked. It was refreshing—when I—When I’m not at my slimmest, I tend to hide in oversized men’s shirts and baggy pants. While comfort is important, it felt good to remember that my true self is still there. I realized how clothing like this could help women who want to embrace their curves—and also those of us who’ve nearly forgotten we have them.

Credits:
Model: Akki (using Dyson)
Makeup: Kabuki for Dior Beauty
Manicurist: Honey
Production: Ted & Jane Productions
Set Design: Stefan Beckman
Chair by Chris Rucker