Full disclosure: I have a deep and abiding sense of admiration for a magnificent set of mammalian protuberances, but let's face it: for every person - man or woman - who looks good with their clothes off, there are 99 of us who resemble modern art jello sculptures. For that reason alone, I can't embrace the notion women going topless in public, except on private property or clothing-optional beaches clearly designated as such.
The few dozen women who paraded their humpty dumplings around Montreal two days ago for what was billed as "Go Topless Day" looked like crackpots more than they resembled credible crusaders for women's rights. Of course, the fact that the event was organized by the Raelians ensured the crackpot quota was easily met, although taking the tatas out for a walk as an expression of feminist liberation and believing that mankind was placed on Earth by UFOs are not mutually exclusive. But I digress.
It's not even an equality issue. Watching a guy's beer belly and man teats jiggle down Main Street is at least as unsightly and offensive as being confronted by a couple of pancakes with nipples that have long since ceded to Newton's law of gravity. There is no amount of libertarianism in either scenario that can compensate for the loss of dignity on everyone's part, be they the wilfully unclad or the unwitting witnesses to the spectacle.
A cultured society has community standards to promote and maintain decorum and foster mutual respect. Keeping our clothes on when and where appropriate is one of the cornerstone community standards of western civilization. Let's keep it that way.
Of course, if the Raelians are right and we're just an alien science experiment, all bets are off.