In October of my freshman year of college, a women’s group on campus made pink shirts that had two painted handprints on the chest, along with the slogan, “Feel Your Breasts.” They were cute. They were cheeky. They were provocative, in a body-positive way. They were also, sadly, unnecessary. Regular breast self-exams feel, for many women, like one of those things we should be doing but always seem to forget, like signing up for Mint or finally sending those thank-you notes.