Lingerie used to be the intersection of power and pleasure. Its delicate fabrics and seductive silhouettes wrapped not only around bodies, but also about femininity, sexuality, identity, and agency. Today, lingerie is undergoing a transformation. No longer confined to being merely a tool of seduction or a symbol of objectification, it has become a site of negotiation, where women challenge, subvert, and sometimes reaffirm cultural norms. It is not a clear story of liberation or repression, but one of contradiction and complexity.
The feelings women have about lingerie are rarely singular. Some women may feel empowered, beautiful, and playful, and others feel anxious, uncomfortable, and alienated, or sometimes both. For some, buying lingerie is both a self-reward and a performance, worn to boost confidence or to show love, but also layered with pressure to look a certain way, to perform desirability, and to hide the labor that makes the spectacle possible.
This contradiction is central to understanding the intricate relationship between lingerie and body positivity. On one hand, recent postfeminist movements tell women they are free to choose their pleasures, and lingerie becomes a sign of empowerment: choosing to wear a lace bodysuit or silk set is reframed as an act of self-care. On the other hand, the criteria of what is "sexy" are still shaped by mass media, consumerism, and high-level men in the fashion industry. "Looking good" still too often means looking thin, young, and effortlessly polished. The visual ideal of the lingerie-clad female body, such as buxom, toned, and airbrushed, is still a powerful image, and many women feel the pressure to live up to it, often describing "making the effort" as an invisible labor of femininity.
Yet it is within this contradiction that resistance and redefinition happen. Women often laugh at the absurdity of the social ideal, acknowledging its artificiality. Some treat lingerie as a game or a form of role-play, embracing the fun part of showing femininity rather than trying to embody it naturally. For others, the discomfort they feel becomes a subtle critique of the norms themselves, recognizing that they do not want to feel exposed or on display, that their sexuality cannot always be captured in lace and boning.
Importantly, body positivity has started to reshape the way lingerie is represented and consumed. Brands are showcasing diverse bodies across sizes, ethnicities, genders, and abilities, modeling lingerie not as an ideal to aspire to, but as something that belongs to everyone. In doing so, they echo what many women have been saying all along: lingerie can be for comfort, for fun, for confidence, for desire, for oneself. It doesn't need to look like a magazine ad to be valid or empowering.
Still, the work of body positivity doesn't erase the tensions many women feel. Wearing lingerie could make someone feel like she is advertising her body. She is compelled to perform, to be seen and appreciated, while still being unsure whether the experience was truly her own. That ambivalence, though, is not a failure, but proof that women are thinking critically about how they relate to their bodies and desires. In the ambiguity lies agency.
Lingerie is not inherently feminist or anti-feminist. It is a cultural object loaded with meaning, and women's relationships with it are dynamic and evolving. Whether it's worn to seduce, to affirm, to resist, or simply to feel "nice," lingerie becomes most powerful when the woman wearing it decides what it means for her. That, perhaps, is where its true potential lies: in the freedom to define one's own femininity, on one's own terms.
Custom underwear exporter since 2001, JMC delivers a wide range of services to importers, brands and sourcing agents. We specialize in producing quality intimates, underwear, and swimwear.
