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What the Molly Malone Statue Says About Male Entitlement
A woman can’t escape harassment — not even in bronze
I n Dublin, they’ve posted bodyguards next to a statue. Not to protect it from vandalism. Not to deter theft. But to stop men — mostly tourists — from groping her breasts.
The statue in question is of Molly Malone, a mythical 17th-century fishmonger immortalized in Irish folklore and song. She’s stood proudly on Suffolk Street, bronze and bare-chested, pushing a cart of cockles and mussels.
She’s also been the subject of a long-standing “tradition:” men grabbing her breasts for luck, selfies, or just a laugh.
It may seem ridiculous on the surface, but the implications run deep. Because what this so-called tradition reveals isn’t just disrespect for a statue — it’s a window into how society conditions men to view women’s bodies: as things to be touched, joked about, consumed. Not just in the flesh, but in stone. Not just in life, but even in legend.
