For Margaret and her friends, bras are some of the most overt symbols of adulthood and womanhood. Wearing a bra, they believe, means that they’re well on their way to becoming mature women—which is presumably why Nancy makes wearing a bra a condition of joining her secret club. This results in both Janie and Margaret having to ask their mothers to buy them bras so they can attend their first meeting; neither girl had been wearing one until that point. But for Margaret at least, Nancy’s mandate creates a convenient excuse to ask for a bra—and once she gets her bra and starts wearing it, it has the desired effect of making her feel mature.
However, the novel also offers many indications that the bra itself doesn’t make the wearer a woman—rather, the bras can also show how young and immature Margaret and her friends are. For instance, it’s humorous when Margaret decides to stuff her bra with exactly six cotton balls, three on each side, to attend Norman Fishbein’s Christmas party. Margaret might feel like she looks better and more adult with the cotton balls in her bra, but the fact that she has to create the illusion of breasts to feel adult only highlights how physically immature she still is. Similarly, at the first secret club meeting, Nancy refers to her friends’ new Gro-Bras (presumably, training bras) as “baby bras,” insisting that they need to work hard to grow breasts so they can graduate to wearing 32AAs like her. Nancy, who’s very insecure about her own body and development, means this as an insult—she believes she’s better and more adult than her friends because she’s wearing bras in a standard size (even a tiny one).
Bras Quotes in Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.
“Oh, you’re still flat.” Nancy laughed.
“Not exactly,” I said, pretending to be very cool. “I’m small boned, is all.”
“I’m growing already,” Nancy said, sticking her chest way out. “In a few years I’m going to look like one of those girls in Playboy.”
Well, I didn’t think so, but I didn’t say anything. My father gets Playboy and I’ve seen those girls in the middle. Nancy looks like she has a long way to go. Almost as far as me.
The teacher wasn’t in the room when we got there. That is, the real teacher. There was this girl, who I thought was the teacher, but she turned out to be a kid in our class. She was very tall (that’s why I thought she was the teacher) with eyes shaped like a cat’s. You could see the outline of her bra through her blouse and you could also tell from the front that it wasn’t the smallest size. She sat down alone and didn’t talk to anyone. I wondered if maybe she was new too, because everybody else was busy talking and laughing about summer vacations and new hair styles and all that.
She got me out of the first bra and into the next one. I wondered how I’d ever learn to do it by myself. Maybe my mother would have to dress me every day.
“Not me,” Nancy said, proudly. “Mine’s a thirty-two double A.”
We were all impressed.
“If you ever want to get out of those baby bras you have to exercise,” she told us.
I tiptoed back to my room and closed the door. I stepped into my closet and stood in one corner. I shoved three cotton balls into each side of my bra. Well, so what if it was cheating! Probably other girls did it too. I’d look a lot better, wouldn’t I? So why not!
To make matters worse I had to sit facing Laura Danker. I hated her. I hated her for being so big and beautiful and having all the boys stare at her, including Mr. Benedict. Also, I hated her because she knew she was normal and I didn’t know a thing about me!
“Don’t you think I know all about you and your friends? Do you think it’s any fun to be the biggest kid in the class?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it.”
“Well, try thinking about it. Think about how you’d feel if you had to wear a bra in fourth grade and how everybody laughed and how you always had to cross your arms in front of you. And about how the boys called you dirty names just because of how you looked.”
I thought about it. “I’m sorry, Laura,” I said.
“I’ll bet!”
“I really am. If you want to know the truth…well, I wish I looked more like you than like me.”