Absolutely, yes. I think it’s so important, not only for the good of the customer, but also in differentiating yourself as a small business.
Yes, I believe that when we think about what we wear, many people disregard what they wear underneath. One of the most interesting things from this has been seeing that there are people who either already do take this into consideration, or want to make this change.
On this note, I wondered, how has your relationship to the idea of sensuality and the cultivation of belonging in your body evolved as you’ve matured? Are there any ideas or suppositions that you have adopted or left behind?
God yeah! When I was in my early 20s, sensuality was sex. That was the only connotation. But I always knew that there had to have been something else there. I think as I have gotten older, I’ve realised that sensuality is actually within me. It’s not about someone else’s perception of me; it’s extremely personal. It’s intimately connected to mindfulness—really rooted in slowing down and feeling things, touching things, smelling, hearing; the whole sensory experience. Sensuality, absolutely, still interacts with sex. The lingerie; being seen by someone; that’s still an experience that we all enjoy. But it is not what I primarily associate with sensuality. ‘Sexual pleasure’ may be first the dictionary definition, but the second is ‘enjoyment of the physical senses’. I think that is such an important distinction to make. But, regardless of where someone is in their life, or how old they are, I feel that once you truly have a grasp of who you are in your own body; your agency in the world; and hone your ability to tap into the material, sensual world… you’ll be better off.
I could talk about this for hours. I mean, we as women, are fed from the moment that we are able to listen, read and see, that our base value lies in our sex. I still remember being twelve and venturing into Bendon with my Mum for the first time. I mean, you know the song and dance—you walk in and are almost immediately oversaturated by racks of slinky, itchy, and/or frumpy garments, modelled by one particular variety of flat-stomached, conventionally beautiful woman. These experiences, how we represent the body at its most ‘intimate’, have lasting impacts on our physical and sensual identities. And I dragged around this idea of physical inferiority with me all throughout my teenage years. It hugely affected my ability to trust both mine, and others', perception of my being. One of the most important realisations that I’ve made in my life thus far, and that I’m sure will only evolve further as I grow, is that sensual satisfaction, alongside general purpose and belonging, can just as easily come from within. It’s not tied to anyone else, it’s completely internal.
It’s so interesting how these struggles with sensual identity crop up year to year, or age group to age group. It’s a conversation at every point in your life as a woman. Your whole experience of your body, how you enjoy it and how you derive pleasure, is constantly changing. Pre and post baby, pre and post menopause.
Yeah! I was talking to my Mums about this conversation we are now having. I shared with them all of the things I wished to talk to you about, particularly where it relates to maturing, and finding your identity as your body changes and perhaps, no longer fits the social mold we have been preened to strive for. And they were both so elated—not only that I was finding interest in these age-specific topics, but that I could discuss them with someone who has an active stake in this realm, and is ultimately working to carve out a space where women can find garments that honour their bodies. I’ve got a fair bit of youth left in me; I’m twenty; but I am a firm believer that one can never be too young to be having these conversations. Anti-ageing rhetoric is everywhere, and the best antidote is dialogue!