IMG_6741Twenty-five years ago this summer — in July 1992 — a New York court ruling established that women can’t be punished for going bare-chested in public places if men weren’t punished for doing the same thing.

This landmark ruling changed lives. Not just the lives of the particular women involved in that particular court case, although it certainly did that. But the lives of all the women of New York, including women who weren’t even born yet. Maybe especially ones who weren’t born yet.

IMG_6452Some of our members are in college today. Some are still in high school. And they’ve never known a time when, as women, they had to hide their bodies while their brothers and male cousins were free to walk unashamed in the sun. They’ve known from birth that it is their right — their equal right — to inhabit the body they were born into and to display it or cover it as they choose.

IMG_6616IMG_6625IMG_6648Of course, not every woman does know this, even in New York; and not every woman who knows it has been brave enough to try it, even if she would dearly like to (especially on a day when the temperature inches up into the 90s and boob sweat is a thing). And some of those brave enough to try it have had to deal with stares and catcalls and unwelcome approaches from men if they’ve tried it by themselves rather than in a group of like-minded friends.

This is why we exist: to provide ourselves and other women an opportunity to exercise our rights, free from interference, safe, relaxed, and happy. That’s what we did yesterday, on Central Park’s East Green, and it’s what we’ll be doing all summer long. If you’re a body-positive woman in the New York area, we hope you’ll join us. All it takes is an email to toplesspulpfiction@gmail.com, and we’ll find an event we can get you to.

Some are more private, some more public; some more active, some more relaxed. Some are fully nude, if we’re somewhere where we have the luxury of doing that. We’ll find the right one for you.

IMG_6466In the meantime,  enjoy this glimpse of the first really hot day of the Summer of 2017 — 25 years on from the momentous and eventful Summer of 1992. We had books (Girl on a Train! Turn on the Heat!)…

IMG_6639We had delicacies (strawberries! kombucha!)…

IMG_6475IMG_6674We had junk food (America Runs on Dunkin’!).

IMG_6576IMG_6602IMG_6684What we had mostly was a great time.

IMG_6525IMG_6444IMG_6420Bare your breasts. Breathe deep. Be free.

It’s your right.

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IMG_0053It’s May already — but the cool weather we’ve been having all spring is stubbornly persisting. Every so often, the sun breaks through, but it’s just for an hour or two at a time. So what do we do? Grab that hour or two when it comes, even if it means only two or three of us can make it.

This time, we met at the southeast entrance to Central Park, where an art installation is currently up: a set of old-fashioned sofas and tufted chairs, only made of stone rather than fabric.

IMG_0048IMG_0014Not incredibly comfortable to sit on, especially when the sun (briefly) is blazing hot, but we took a few pictures there before moving on to the grassy side of a hill just inside the park.

And what was our reading material this time? The manga Ghost In the Shell and a vintage 1972 issue of Playboy. (We spent quite a while puzzling over some of the cartoons. Some of them we literally couldn’t even figure out well enough to be offended by. People thought the strangest things were funny back in 1972.)

Not to mention what men’s unmentionables looked like in 1972.

IMG_0100We also had a guest member in attendance: an aloe plant one of our members rescued from disposal on a downtown sidewalk. We named him Fred.

And then the clouds came back and we departed. But oh what a wonderful taste of summer it was while it lasted!

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IMG_2535ccRain is projected for the next ten days or so, but looking ahead, the second half of May promises to be wonderful. If you’re an adventurous (or just curious) body-positive woman in the New York area and would like to join us for one of our outings, please get in touch! You can email us at toplesspulpfiction@gmail.com, and we’ll get you out in the sun with us. We promise: if we can do it, you can too.

IMG_6172It was Erev Pesach (look it up), and — miracle of miracles! — the sun broke through, the temperature climbed, and suddenly it felt like spring. Hell, it felt like summer. And it felt so very, very good.

IMG_6158IMG_6202Several of us hightailed it to Washington Square Park, carrying baked goods from Orwasher’s, including prune and poppyseed hamentashen (wrong holiday, we know), sourdough bagels, raspberry brioche, and one very delicious, hand-filled raspberry jelly doughnut.

IMG_6165Also books, including advance copies of Donald E. Westlake’s FOREVER AND A DEATH, based on a story he came up with for a James Bond movie that never got filmed. Very cool.

IMG_6151Speaking of cool, there was also this guy dancing in an inflatable purple T-Rex costume.

IMG_6257How do you top that? We don’t know. He certainly got more strange looks than we did. And that felt so very, very good too.

IMG_6150IMG_6218IMG_6208cOh — and a tip of a hat to living in one of the most multicultural cities in the world:

IMG_6239 Chag sameach, y’all.

IMG_9821Last week, we told you about how we worked with an outfit called Doob to create little 3D-printed replicas of ourselves, and promised to show you some more photos of the end results. Herewith, then: the end results. Photographed outdoors and in, uptown and down, it’s us in miniature, taking over NYC.

First, we unboxed ourselves near Times Square —

IMG_9806IMG_9812IMG_9826Then a subway ride down to Washington Square Park put us squarely in the midst of the International Women’s Day march.

IMG_5578IMG_5593IMG_5598IMG_5607In City Hall Park, where the mayor does his work, we found a central spot where brides and grooms and tourists pose for selfies, and we thought, why not?

IMG_5838IMG_5893IMG_5923It turned into a teaching moment when a young boy with mom in tow walked over.

IMG_5875“What are those…bumps?” the curious lad asked, pointing. Never too young to hear the answer. Chests come in different shapes and sizes. The explanation satisfied everyone.

IMG_5876Back uptown we visited an office with a high-rise view:

IMG_9837IMG_9845IMG_9863IMG_9883And then back in the bubblewrap we went, for safe transportation home.

IMG_9828Some of you have asked if you could order copies of our Doobs, and in theory we could arrange that, but each one of these things cost a couple hundred dollars, and you only get a 20% discount for printing duplicates. So realistically it’s prohibitive. But if you like what you saw and do have the money, why not head over to Doob and get one made of yourself? Honestly, there’s nothing quite like holding yourself in the palm of your hand.

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IMG_5882It was Christmastime, and one of us was wandering the Upper East Side, ticking items off a shopping list: tinsel, check; lights, yep; presents for the niece; and so on. When what to our wond’ring eyes should appear, but a miniature… Well, what was it? A miniature what? Not a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer — something far more intriguing than that. It was a store filled with miniature people. And pets, but mostly people. And they looked insanely lifelike, like the handiwork of a mad scientist with a shrink-ray in some old sci-fi movie. A shrink-ray combined with a freeze-ray, maybe. Or just a shrink-ray, if the mad scientist wielding it was also a gorgon. Or…

It was a place called Doob.

IMG_7203What Doob does is take photographs of you — 45 photographs, to be exact, all shot simultaneously, by 45 separate cameras in a Westworld-worthy, THX-1138-sterile chamber of soul-capturing awesomeness

IMG_7181— and then composite them into a single 3D model, which they send to a 3D printer, and…voila, six weeks later, you’ve gestated yourself a little miniature…you.

IMG_9851Yes, that’s right: a mini-you, in any pose you want, wearing whatever you want, in sizes ranging from action figure to Barbie to you-can’t-afford-it.

IMG_7121And when we saw this, we immediately knew we had to go there as a group and get miniature naked Doobs of ourselves.

Assuming, of course, that the company wouldn’t be too uptight to let a half-dozen naked women into their magic booth. Happily they weren’t. They were, in fact, a pleasure to deal with in every possible way. Their one request was that we do the shoot downtown in their SoHo location (SoHo dwellers presumably being more open to the sight of naked people getting miniaturized than Upper East Siders). So one frosty evening in January, we traipsed in and, with the aid of some body paint, some fishnets, and a few costume pieces that didn’t cover a whole lot, we got ourselves Doobed.

IMG_7169CIMG_7239IMG_7305The results were pretty amazing — so much so that they deserve (and will shortly get) their own post. For now, enjoy these photos of the process. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them in the comments section, or just contact Doob yourself. (To tackle some common ones: Yes, it’s expensive. No, you don’t have to hold your pose for long — just a few seconds. Yes, you can take a second photo if you don’t like how the first one comes out. No, we don’t know why it takes 6 weeks from photography to having a finished printed Doob. Yes, you can order extras if you like how they came out — in theory, we could print thousands and give a miniature naked statue to every one of our fans. No, we don’t plan to.)

The whole thing was a trip. And now there are miniatures of us out in the wild. Just statues for now — but just imagine what’ll come next…

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IMG_6092What are the French known for? Yes, existentialist philosophy and admiration of Jerry Lewis, but those aren’t the things we’re thinking of. Fine food, that’s one; fine wine; and a liberal attitude toward nudity.

We’re happy to report we got to enjoy all three this week at the venerable Les Halles restaurant down on John Street.

IMG_6105IMG_6067IMG_6023Just a stone’s throw from the World Trade Center but tucked away discreetly, they’ll serve you the classics — escargot, soupe a l’oignon, vin rouge, creme brulee — and if you ask to be seated in the tiny private room in the back, they might even let you enjoy it in the altogether.

IMG_6118Now, it’s still fitfully winter outside (it snowed again this morning), so in deference to the temperatures (and the furniture), we kept our bottoms on, along with the occasional sweater or scarf.

IMG_6054IMG_6097But our indefatigable waitress made it clear she wouldn’t have been offended if we’d stripped off the rest. And you know what? French food works better when you eat it with a roomful of naked friends. (What food doesn’t? Okay, fondue. But that’s about it.)

IMG_6041Several bottles of wine made a fine foundation for some intense conversations–

IMG_6093–and much kvelling over flavors.

IMG_6058Want to join us for a decadent, delicious, liberating naked dinner sometime? Or maybe, when it warms up properly, a topless dejeuner sur l’herbe in the park? Drop us a note at toplesspulpfiction@gmail.com. Women of every description welcome — just bring an adventurous appetite.

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img_9792There’s something magical about how winter cedes its place to spring in New York.

Just two weeks ago, Central Park looked like this —

img_9229—–and it took a lot of bravery, of a different sort than we usually exhibit, to take your shirt off in the blasting cold.

img_9243A fortnight later, and it’s in the mid-sixties — practically balmy! — and people are taking their tops off left and right. And by people we of course mean men.

img_9746So why not us? Why not, indeed.

img_9753img_9759The surprise onset of warmer weather meant we couldn’t get a proper group together in time to carpe the diem, but one of our long-time members (Not even 18 yet the first time she contacted us! And now 22 — how time flies) decided today was a day for soaking up some Vitamin D.

img_9789TL/DR: The trees are still bare, and so are we. And all be want to say about that (setting aside any consideration of global warming) is: what a wonderful world.

img_9770P.S. Want to join us the next time it’s warm enough to get topless in the great outdoors? We always have room for one more. If you’re a body-positive woman in NYC and either know you want to try this or are trying to work up the nerve, drop us a note: toplesspulpfiction@gmail.com.

There’s no other feeling quite like it. And there’s no reason only men should get to enjoy it.