Jana Hocking reveals ‘creepy’ Instagram messages about her breasts
Sharing a couple of innocent snaps on social media is all it takes for men to get “creepy” – and according to Jana Hocking, it’s not on.
Real Life
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Boobs, jugs, tits, hooters, knockers, jugs. Whatever you want to call them, I’ve heard them all. In fact, take a quick scroll in the comments section of my Instagram and you will see a plethora of words men are using to describe them. Specifically, mine.
My blocked list is a mile long with dudes who have become so distracted by two lumps on my chest that they’ve forgotten any form of manners and have chosen to write something vulgar on my page.
Because you see, the one thing my family genes kindly gifted me with is real boobs.
Depending on the time of the month and my weight, they usually fit into a large C/D size. While gravity has played havoc with them a little, they still sit fairly high up and I’m constantly getting guys tell me I have a “nice set of fakies” and women asking where I got them done.
First of all, kinda rude – and secondly, is there etiquette we should be following when discussing someone’s breasts? The amount of times I’ve had to state “umm, they’re real …” is ridiculous, and also no one’s business – and yet no one seems to flinch when they’re brought up.
Don’t get me wrong, I love discussing them with close girlfriends and I’ve certainly felt a friend’s “new set” when they’ve excitedly showed me their post-op boobies, but that came with consent.
And sure, there’s the argument that I do choose to wear clothes that highlight them, but as anyone who has a set of larger mammary glands will tell you – this can be unavoidable.
Oh, the gorgeous clothes I’ve tried on that would look sophisticated and chic on my small-boobied friends, and yet tend to look a little more Pammy Anderson-like on my body. I mean, is there such a thing as sophisticated cleavage? I’ve certainly tried to attain it. But it’s hard, people.
Just this week I posted a picture in the most gorgeous dress I’ve ever worn. When it arrived in the post I literally squealed. It was a gorgeous light pink, soft tulle concoction that made me revert back to my 7-year-old self as I played dress ups in it at my family’s farm.
Feeling like an overgrown Cinderella, I took a few happy snaps of it and posted it on my Instagram.
I was chuffed when my gorgeous girlfriends started writing lovely comments about it – honestly girls, we really know how to puff each other up. SO here for it.
But the thing I forgot to mention, is that this beautifully-designed dress came with a low slit at the front, similar to J-Lo’s iconic Versace dress.
I had made sure to put my breasts firmly in place to avoid an embarrassing nip-slip and I think I did an OK job of making the photos look classy. Well … to be fair … I am standing in front of a tractor in one of them, but I was attempting to be ironic (and nab myself a farmer).
Suddenly, my comments section was getting inundated with dudes saying things like “Titts (sic) a lovely day”, “Nice rack”, “the perfect handful”, “I want them in my mouth”, and this doozy – “droopy but lovely”. Thanks for the feedback, mate.
Some of these comments came from Instagram accounts with no identifiable photos or names, but others were sent from guys who clearly had their wives in their profile pictures, or their kids, and there was even one sent from a business account.
Oh, how I’ve been tempted to send a screenshot of their comments to their wives or bosses.
The same thing happened when I posted a picture on my birthday of my outfit.
Both times I went from feeling like a million dollars to questioning my value.
And trust me, I get it – my boobs are on show – but can’t I like my curves and not get harassed for it? I always end up feeling a bit dirty.
The thought that one comment can reduce a woman to just one body part can drive you mad if you think too much about it.
I’m not my boobs, they’re just something I like.
I’ve also watched my aunt sadly pass away from breast cancer, and I’ve seen my own mum battle with the horrid disease and come out the other side. So I choose to wear dresses that highlight an asset I like. An asset that I may not have forever.
Despite the creepy messages, I’ve decided it’s OK to have a body part we’re proud of.
For some it’s their eyes, or their legs, or their large lips. For me it’s my breasts.
So yes, I’m going to continue to wear dresses that make me feel sexy, but I’ve also realised that it’s going to have to come with a tough exterior. And you know what? That sucks.
So men, do us a favour and learn some manners.
Because the “block” and “delete” buttons got far too much of a workout this week. And I, like many of my big-boobied friends, are tired of the sexual harassment.
Jana Hocking is a columnist and collector of kind-of-boyfriends | @jana_hocking
Originally published as Jana Hocking reveals ‘creepy’ Instagram messages about her breasts