Jan 30, 2026 · 36 min · 13 segments
Zoe's dad made a bra that changed the world. Will it change her? A feature from my friends over at the audio magazine Signal Hill Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
Avery TrufelmanHost
Jeffrey KurlandGuestErin BrockovichGuestErin clomps around the hot, sun-bleached town of Hinkley in high heels, mini skirts, skin-tight vests, leather, laces, gold belts, animal print, red.
Now that you're working here, you may want to, uh, rethink your wardrobe a little.
Is that so? Well, it just so happens I think I look nice, and as long as I have one ass instead of two, I'll wear what I like, if that's all right with you.
Whether she's running circles around the dumb men trying to keep her from the truth or deftly scaling the side of a swimming pool to fish out a dead frog, Erin's cleavage is just right there.
It's basically a star in its own right, catapulting past the zip-up neckline of a halter top, smashed together at the center of a corset, pole vaulting over the top button of a sheer leopard blouse.
Some people write her off as a bimbo, but that's actually part of her power.
What makes you think you can just walk in there and find, uh, what we need?
They're called boobs, Ed.
At 15, I still looked 12, pre-alphabet-chested, and I wished for boobs incessantly.
Plus, as a teenager, I thought constantly, paranoically, about how to look amazing and also how to look like I didn't care.
I wanted to know how I could look like that, be like that? [door closing] I'm 30 now, basically the same age as Julia Roberts was when she played Erin Brockovich.
[upbeat music] After feeling for a decade like I'd largely escaped the fray of adolescence, I'm suddenly, once again, stepping from what feels like one life phase to another.
There's something mushy and liminal about this age, the vague feeling of being at a turning point, like I'm supposed to be solid, crystallized, in some new identity that I don't quite understand yet.
I'm not immune to the rhythmic push and pull of society/culture/the algorithm, which is telling me I should be ageless, have a baby tomorrow, and adopt a meat-only diet for some reason.
I see pictures of my friends getting married or somehow working from Tahiti or, like, looking really amazing in a hat, and not since I was 15 have I thought this much about how other people might see me.
Should I become a hat person? [gentle music] When I was a teenager, Erin was a vision of a shining adult future I could look forward to when I reached that point, but now I'm there, or here, rather, and I guess I'm still wondering, in some way, how to look like that, be like that.
Erin clomps around the hot, sun-bleached town of Hinkley in high heels, mini skirts, skin-tight vests, leather, laces, gold belts, animal print, red.
Now that you're working here, you may want to, uh, rethink your wardrobe a little.
Is that so? Well, it just so happens I think I look nice, and as long as I have one ass instead of two, I'll wear what I like, if that's all right with you.
Whether she's running circles around the dumb men trying to keep her from the truth or deftly scaling the side of a swimming pool to fish out a dead frog, Erin's cleavage is just right there.
It's basically a star in its own right, catapulting past the zip-up neckline of a halter top, smashed together at the center of a corset, pole vaulting over the top button of a sheer leopard blouse.
Some people write her off as a bimbo, but that's actually part of her power.
What makes you think you can just walk in there and find, uh, what we need?
They're called boobs, Ed.
At 15, I still looked 12, pre-alphabet-chested, and I wished for boobs incessantly.
Plus, as a teenager, I thought constantly, paranoically, about how to look amazing and also how to look like I didn't care.
I wanted to know how I could look like that, be like that? [door closing] I'm 30 now, basically the same age as Julia Roberts was when she played Erin Brockovich.
[upbeat music] After feeling for a decade like I'd largely escaped the fray of adolescence, I'm suddenly, once again, stepping from what feels like one life phase to another.
There's something mushy and liminal about this age, the vague feeling of being at a turning point, like I'm supposed to be solid, crystallized, in some new identity that I don't quite understand yet.
I'm not immune to the rhythmic push and pull of society/culture/the algorithm, which is telling me I should be ageless, have a baby tomorrow, and adopt a meat-only diet for some reason.
I see pictures of my friends getting married or somehow working from Tahiti or, like, looking really amazing in a hat, and not since I was 15 have I thought this much about how other people might see me.
Should I become a hat person? [gentle music] When I was a teenager, Erin was a vision of a shining adult future I could look forward to when I reached that point, but now I'm there, or here, rather, and I guess I'm still wondering, in some way, how to look like that, be like that.
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3 of 5
Building the Franken-Bra
Inside the engineering of Julia Roberts' cleavage
Julia Meets Real Erin
Real Erin meets movie twin backstage unexpectedly
Tired of the Rings
When confidence costumes feel unexpectedly heavy some
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