Illustration: Liu Rui/GT

Half the human population have them. They come in all shapes and sizes and for most of us as babies, they were not only our first source of sustenance, but also our first experience of intimacy with another human being. I refer, of course, to breasts.

But their exposure - and what that represents - is still hotly debated in China.

In recent weeks, they've been the topic of discussion on the Chinese blogosphere. Television show The Empress of China was removed after complaints that there was simply too much cleavage. Ornately dressed Tang Dynasty (618-907) damsels were draped in colored silk, jewellery and flowers. Draped everywhere, that is - except the chest area. Scenes from the show showed rows of buxom women, delicate and milky cleavage in tow. It was a handy reminder of what a woman's body looks like - in case you forgot. A viewable, sexy reminder.

But not everyone appreciated it. Some were offended, disgusted and even concerned. Was it appropriate? Was it safe? Was anyone thinking about the children? Chinese television screens were basically attacking viewers with cleavage.

So the show was pulled, temporarily. A quick crop and trim later, it returned, cleavage free. So The Empress of China went back to presenting an accurate historical representation of an iconic imperial figure (not). Minus the bosoms. Phew.

Blogs and news outlets across China covered the controversy. Social media bloggers dubbed it "the Saga of the Empress' Breasts." International media such as the BBC even picked it up. But while some audience members were satisfied, others were incensed. Was it really necessary?

Well, maybe it was. China lacks a television or film-viewing classification system, which is problematic. Adults shouldn't be treated like children, but children should be treated like children. And understandably there are parts of the series where a certain sordid steaminess is implied.

But are breasts themselves the problem? As a Western-raised expat, I don't automatically associate on-camera cleavage with on-camera sex. But it's not the first time plunging necklines have triggered an uproar.

In late January, students of the Chengdu Dongxin Airline Attendant Academy caused a stir for posing naked to promote breast cancer awareness. In April, 2014, female students from Guangdong University of Technology sparked controversy by protesting topless against a lack of equal rights.

And more recently, Sichuan-born artist Li Zhuangping's works were condemned for graphic representations of his nude daughter in his painting collection Oriental Goddess Mountain Spirit Series. Lastly, the only models on display at this year's Shanghai Auto Show may be the ones with wheels, after officials planned to ban the usual armies of scantily-clad women from the event.

Puzzled I asked my female Chinese friends what they thought about it. Most of them were hard-working and busy urban professionals who either didn't know anything about the television cleavage saga, or had heard about it and didn't understand the fuss. "Women should wear and dress as they like," seemed to be the overwhelming response. Some pointed out that China was actually quite liberal in its representation of women compared with other Asian countries.

Others said they agreed, but also shared uncomfortable experiences when it came to wearing lower-cut blouses or figure-hugging tops in the workplace. "My colleagues will always point out if what I'm wearing even shows a hint of shape. They will tease me, not maliciously - but make a thing about it." She said that the reality was in most office settings, those who wore more revealing clothing were made gossip fodder - at worst objects of contempt, accused of having sly motivations for dressing this way, perhaps to get the attention of a male superior in hope of a promotion or raise. "I don't see why they make such a fuss about it. In my opinion a little bit of cleavage is beautiful," she said.

So is it simply a matter of style rather than sex?

My answer came, surprisingly, from a conversation with a man.

He was a young businessman who had studied abroad and now worked selling Australian wine primarily to Chinese women. "In our research, we found that women want to be seen and want to feel special." He said that the way they dressed was simply becoming another expression of this independence and individuality.

The shift is undeniable. Young Chinese women are doing things slightly or very differently to generations before: not getting married by 27, excelling in unconventional careers and prioritizing creativity or risk over security and wealth. There is a definite emerging willingness, if not desire, to stand out.

So maybe all this brouhaha isn't about breasts at all, but rather a new boldness. And in that China is not alone. Women deciding to take a stand has had a similarly scandalous effect throughout the world this past century; initial suspicion and unease have often given way to discussion at worst and encouragement at best.

So it seems this cleavage saga is just one part of the larger change China grapples with every day. It's certainly an exciting time to be living in this country - and perhaps especially exciting to be a woman in it.

The author is editor/co-founder of Beijing Blend. Follow her on WeChat: BeijingBlend. opinion@globaltimes.com.cn