Cleavage Shaming: Why Big-Breasted Women Are Still Judged Differently

When the same dress is celebrated on one woman and condemned on another, cleavage isn’t the issue – culture is. Hayley Doyle explores how cleavage shaming, from red carpets to motherhood, continues to police and judge women with larger breasts.

I’m not a Sydney Sweeney fan. I don’t follow her career closely. I have zero investment in her as a person and an actor. But when she appeared on the red carpet recently alongside The Housemaid co-star Amanda Seyfried, something in me stirred. I was hit with a familiar stomach churn that comes when you recognise an old story playing out again.

The online comments came thick and fast. Amanda, oh, so elegant. Classy. Timeless. Sydney, ugh, trying too hard. Showing off. Getting her boobs out…again. The praise and the trolling sat side by side, as if they were two ends of the same measuring stick. One woman passed. One woman failed.

And yet, both were wearing glamorous dresses. Both were beautiful. Both were doing exactly what women on red carpets are expected to do.

So what was the difference?

Simple; breasts.

If Sydney Sweeney had a smaller bust, that dress would barely have been noticed. It wouldn’t have been analysed, moralised, or dragged into some debate about decency. But because her breasts are big, the dress became “a choice.” A sexy invitation. How dare she get her baps out for attention like that!

And even if you’re a Sweeney-hater (good lord, there are many according to the comments I wasted my time scrolling through) you can’t say she’s getting attacked because she’s not “nice”.

She is getting attacked purely because of her cleavage.

As a naturally big-breasted woman myself, once again, I’m forced to ask a question I’ve been asking my whole life; If we have big breasts, should we cover up?

Honestly, I have been conditioned into thinking, yes.

I wouldn’t dream of going to pick up my kids from school on a blazing hot day in a tight vest…although plenty of mothers with small breasts do. Showing that my boobs exist is just showing off. Drawing attention. They should be there, but never seen.

But, why?

And more importantly, who are we hiding them from?

Cleavage Shaming and the “Classy” Woman

Calling one woman “classy” in contrast to another is pretty loaded. Like a kind of coded message; this is how to do it properly. It implies that elegance lives in restraint. Be small. Shrink. Whatever you do, don’t go around reminding people too much that you have a body, because if you do, you will be blamed for the attention it receives. Cleavage on one body is seen as fashion. On another, it’s trashy, raunchy, inappropriate. One woman is respectful, but the other is “up for it”.

Big-breasted women learn this early. We learn that we must dress not for ourselves, but for the comfort of others. That our bodies are loud even when we are silent. That the same outfit reads differently depending on who is wearing it.

I experienced this when I was a musical theatre performer, cast in a long-running West End show. I was measured for the same costumes worn by the actress before me, but the halter neck top didn’t work with my shape. The bra wasn’t supportive for dancing. The wardrobe team called me, “a challenge.” I was met with endless comments and jokes about my bazookas. Many thought they were complimenting me, but in truth, I was just wearing the same top as all the previous actresses had worn, with extra support for my natural shape. I didn’t need a compliment. Or a joke. I didn’t need anything at all.

The Male Gaze (Yawn) and the Sexualisation of Breasts

Come on, let’s not pretend this isn’t about men. Or shall we say, about managing men’s reactions. The unspoken rule is tiring…men might look, so women must adjust. Cover up. Tone it down. That word pipes up again: shrink. When TV personality and women’s advocate Ashley James shared a photo breastfeeding her baby to help normalise it, she was met with hundreds of vile comments from men sexualising her choice.

As if breasts exist for men, rather than simply on women.

As if it’s a woman’s responsibility to prevent sexualisation (even though she didn’t create it). Sydney Sweeney didn’t invent cleavage. Or desire. She just showed up in a body she didn’t choose, wearing a dress that would be applauded on someone else. And somehow, that became her problem.

Motherhood and the Shame, the Guilt, the Judgement…

All of this online hate has made me think back to when my children were tiny babies and I was navigating the journey of breastfeeding. I remember sitting in cafes, waiting on train platforms, at family gatherings, my baby crying, my heart racing. I remember my friends with smaller breasts feeding with ease, barely noticed. A quick lift of a top. A latch. Done.

For me, it was stressful to make feeding discreet, especially in the hot summer months. There was more breast to deal with. But I was doing the same thing as other mamas. Feeding my baby. So why did I feel embarrassed, worried about exposure? I felt relieved when the colder weather arrived so I could layer up without feeling uncomfortable.

It’s So Hypocritical

Let’s look at what we’re presented with, the judgement we see online and in real life. Breasts are celebrated until they’re inconvenient. Breasts are sexualised until they’re real. Breasts are desired until they’re attached to a woman who won’t apologise for having them.

As women, we are told to love our bodies. But! Only if it’s the right kind of body. What has happened to championing body positivity? It seems to have disappeared as quickly as it arrived, with the old rules sneaking out unashamedly.

So Where Does That Leave Us?

I don’t know if Sydney Sweeney was trying to make a statement. And if she was, so what? Women are allowed to exist loudly. We are allowed to take up space. It’s 2026 but the future feels suddenly very old-fashioned, so stuck in its ways. So lacking in women’s favour.

The issue isn’t her dress. It’s the belief that her body wasn’t suitable for that dress.

I’m so tired of it. I mean, I’ve never known a different world, but it’s making me tired. I bought a lovely red dress to wear over Christmas. It’s from eco-conscious brand Nobody’s Child and a quick Google describes the clothing as ‘approachable and wearable - pretty enough for special moments, but grounded enough for everyday life’.

My dress is long sleeved, red velvet, which nips in at the waist and has a feminine-flared skirt to the knee. It also shows my cleavage. I was met with many compliments about this dress looking lovely, but some were aimed at my breasts. Yes, it was all positive and uplifting and - no pun intended - supportive of me showing off my assets. But I wasn’t showing off. I just wanted to wear the dress. On another body, this dress would be described as simply wholesome.

Breasts are just breasts. Big, small, hidden, visible. On red carpets. In cafes. Feeding babies. Living life. Let them be seen - or not - on the terms of the person who owns them.

No apologies, thank you.

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