Uh, nothing?

The ladies of the The Outdoor Co-ed Topless Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society, who bare their breasts regularly (and legally) in New York City parks, get this question occasionally. I suspect it’s the usual conflagration of nudity and sex. It ain’t necessarily so.

Let the ladies explain:

One of the refrains we hear from time to time, on the increasingly rare occasions that we hear complaints at all, is “Won’t you think of the children?” The implication being that children are somehow harmed or traumatized by the sight of bare female breasts. This in spite of the fact that most children nurse from bare female breasts for the first chunk of their lives.

How does something that starts out as warm, loving, and nourishing — and wholly appropriate for children — transform into a taboo, a sight for adults only?

Fortunately, actual children don’t pay any attention to this nonsense. Or to us, by and large. Today we met in a downtown park where several young kids were playing, and aside from our representing a barrier to the unfettered pursuit of their game of tag, they couldn’t have cared less. They certainly showed less interest in our breasts than their fathers did.

Gosh, I wish I lived in NYC.