For NoMorePage3 campaigners, it was always about context – placed prominently in the newspaper, the images sent the message that the news about women was their breasts, and that they were passive decorations there to titillate man.
"The Daily Mail clearly don't know who I am if they're writing a story about my breasts being exposed," said Palmer, pointing out that her "entire body had escaped" on stage in the past.
Patrons are 99% men ordering schooners and ordering themselves: don't look at their breasts, don't look at their breasts.
False breasts were banned from page 3 (at readers' request) in 1997, and the cheesier poses and wildly punning captions ("A lovely bit of rump and the topside's tasty too... MEAT luscious Laura Frankland – the first Page Three beauty who is also a qualified BUTCHER") were binned a year later.
It's not breasts that are the problem with Page 3. It's the attitudes to women that are promoted by presenting young women as sex objects in a current affairs publication.
At every turn the campaign to get breasts off the breakfast table has faced opposition and derision.
Some were angry that they were prevented from breastfeeding in public yet pictures of breasts were flaunted.
Where Dunham's Horvath seems to exist, with all her hyper-neuroses and anxiety, in a world surrounded by her physical opposites without ever verbally acknowledging it, Lahiri goes the other way: she lands self-deprecating jokes about her weight, her lopsided breasts, her relationship with her nose-trimmer ("see you in 20 minutes") and her sweatiness (men's deodorant only, please).
It turns out sharing photos of a sugary drink between your breasts has nothing to do with raising awareness of cancer.
It's no fun having everyone discussing your breasts, especially in relation to cancer.
Some are women with real babies, some women with plastic breasts and plastic babies, and at least one a man.
