Nothing says, “I mean business.” like putting on a bra. I am surprised that men have not noticed this and adopted this strategy themselves. On any random morning, men all over the country have watched their women transform from plushy, sleepy-eyed females into get-it-done, don’t-get-in-my-way, all-business sharks, sweeping half-dressed toddlers into strollers, dirty dishes into the sink, and husbands who can’t find a pair of brown socks out of their way. I am woman; hear me roar.
The minute a woman snaps that bra into place, she is focused and sharp. If men were to do this every morning, they would not be nodding off into their newspapers on the train or half-heartedly elbowing people out of the way to the coffee machine at the office.

I know this bra theory to be true because I have tested it. For example, I promised myself that I would do yoga every morning when I wake up, but the problem was I slept in a nightgown. Pretty, yes, but no one can do Pigeon in a nightgown. Getting up and changing into yoga clothes and then again into work clothes meant a lot of wardrobe decisions and some serious waffling. I’d drift from breakfast to thinking about yoga, to changing my clothes, to reading the newspaper, to checking my email, back to thinking about yoga, to changing my clothes again, until the time before I had to leave for work was all used up. And I hadn’t done Pigeon. Just a few minutes of Child’s Pose, and if you have ever been to one yoga class, you know what that means.

So I started wearing comfortable yoga pants and a tank top to sleep in, thinking I’d get up and get right on my mat and bloom into Warrior One. However, feeling comfy was not an inspiration to be a Warrior or even a Pigeon. It made me want to stay in bed longer because I knew I had saved serious minutes changing clothes. Then I had no time for yoga when I slobbered out of bed.

Sleeping in my yoga clothes didn’t work. So I gave up on yoga in the morning. Now I get up, put on a bra, get dressed, and go to work. Sometimes I look at my yoga mat.

Now let’s examine my bra-wearing habits when I go to the gym. A form-fitting Lycra tank top does the job of containing breasts for moderate exercise like walking and yoga. However, dressed like that, I feel good and healthy and calm and rested, so therefore, I do not have the animal spit it takes to lift weights, and most certainly I cannot run on the treadmill or jump rope wearing a pretty little tank top with spaghetti straps. Any woman knows this.
However, wearing a sport bra, I am girded for battle. Ready for the treadmill and Nautilus machines. Ready for anything. I am woman; hear me roar. When I take that extra minute to struggle into a sport bra, I head straight for the free weights. I know that I and my breasts are ready for a serious workout.

It’s the same at my job. I am a schoolteacher. I cannot discipline obstreperous students or command respect if I am not wearing a bra, no matter how many layers of undergarments I am wearing or how thick my sweater might be. Sometimes I don’t wear underpants, never when I am wearing leggings, and my verve and authority are not compromised. I am competent and at ease with myself. But if I want to go that extra mile, I always fasten on a good bra before I stride out into the fray.
There are women out there reading this, and they are nodding their heads. They know.
Regarding men and bras, on second thought, we ladies should keep this our little secret. Men don’t need the extra advantage. They’ve got the upper hand in too many arenas in our culture. We cannot let them go around wearing bras and herding more successes into their bank accounts.
Nope. Bras are for us girls.
Us powerful girls