Symbols How Not to Drown in a Glass of Water Angie Cruz

The Faja (Body Girdle) as a Symbol of Constraint and Liberation

What Is the Faja?

The faja is a tight elastic body girdle worn to shape and compress the torso. In the novel, Lulú wears her faja continuously—she puts it on the moment she gets out of bed and chooses one a size too small, so that her breasts sit “high up on her chest, like missiles” (Session Six). The garment is physically restrictive: it prevents her from bending to pick up something from the floor. For Lulú, the faja is not a once-in-a-while accessory but a daily armor that disciplines her body into an ideal of firmness and control.

Where the Faja Appears

The faja recurs through Cara’s narration of her friendship with Lulú. It is mentioned in passing as part of Lulú’s rigid daily routine. The most dramatic moment comes during a crisis over Lulú’s son Adonis: Lulú strips off her faja and hurls it out the window (Session Six). Cara witnesses the scene—Lulú at the window in only her bata, her stomach visible, her breasts sagging. The faja, once a tool of concealment and compression, becomes a projectile of defiance.

The garment also echoes the novel’s broader interest in constriction. Cara’s own body endures a cyst operation, hospital rules, and the pressure of unemployment. The faja literalizes the theme of female bodies being squeezed into acceptable shapes—socially, economically, and emotionally.

How the Meaning Changes

Initially, the faja signals Lulú’s commitment to presenting a controlled, disciplined image. She uses it to manage how others see her, especially in a community where women’s worth is often tied to appearance and self-sacrifice. The faja is a tool of survival within patriarchal and immigrant pressures: a way to hold oneself together when everything else feels unstable.

When Lulú throws the faja away, its meaning transforms. The act is a physical release of the shame and effort required to maintain appearances. Cara notes that Lulú had never before shown her stomach or let her “tetas pointing to the floor.” The discarded faja represents a refusal to keep compressing her own body and emotions. It is a moment of raw honesty, paralleling Cara’s own moments of vulnerability—like when she admits to crying on the floor after Fernando left (Session Two). The faja’s trajectory from constraining undergarment to rejected object mirrors Lulú’s temporary break from the performance of strength.

Later, the faja is not mentioned again, but its absence echoes in Lulú’s changed circumstances. By the end of the novel, Lulú moves in with Cara and takes on a more relaxed, if still imperfect, domestic role. The discarded faja signals that Lulú is beginning to let go of the crushing standards she imposed on herself.

Character and Theme Connections

Lulú is the direct user of the faja. Her obsession with it reflects her broader tendency to control her environment and her body as a response to her son Adonis’s failures and her own precarious situation. The faja is an extension of her pride and her fear of judgment.

Cara is the observer. She sees the faja as both a tool and a prison. In Session Two, Cara describes her own post-surgery vulnerability (the cyst removal) and her refusal to ask for help. Both women struggle with the expectation to endure pain silently—Cara by leaving the hospital alone, Lulú by strapping herself into a too-small faja.

Theme of societal pressure on women’s bodies: The faja embodies the demand that women, especially older immigrant women, remain physically firm and emotionally composed. Lulú cannot show her “soft” body without risking shame. This links to the broader theme of survival and resilience—/books/how-not-to-drown-in-a-glass-of-water/themes/survival-and-resilience—where women have to present a hard exterior to navigate systemic obstacles.

Theme of release of shame: Throwing the faja out the window is an act of desahogarse (to undrown), a word Cara uses to describe the grieving process she learned from Lulú (Session Two). The faja becomes a physical metaphor for “undrowning”: letting go of the weight that keeps you submerged. This connects to themes of intergenerational trauma—/books/how-not-to-drown-in-a-glass-of-water/themes/intergenerational-trauma—as both women carry histories of loss and hard-won independence.

Theme of immigration and displacement: The faja is also a marker of the immigrant woman’s effort to adapt. Lulú arrived in New York with nothing and built a life through labor. The faja’s constriction mirrors the pressure to fit into a new society while holding onto old values—an idea explored under immigration and displacement—/books/how-not-to-drown-in-a-glass-of-water/themes/immigration-and-displacement.

Table: Key Moments Involving the Faja

Moment What Happens Symbolic Meaning
Lulú’s daily routine She wears the faja from waking, always a size too small. Enforced discipline, denial of bodily comfort.
Cara describes the faja “Breasts high up on her chest, like missiles.” Sexualized obedience; the body as weapon.
Lulú throws it out the window Takes off faja, drops it, reveals unshaped body. Rejection of shame; raw vulnerability.
After the act Lulú appears in only a bata; Cara sees her slump. Moment of truth; loss of control that leads to deeper friendship.

Four Study Questions with Answers

1. Why does Lulú wear the faja every day, and why does she choose a size too small?
Lulú wears the faja to maintain a firm, youthful figure that signals discipline and respectability. Choosing a size too small intensifies the effect—it lifts her breasts and cinches her waist—but also causes physical discomfort. This choice mirrors her habit of presenting a controlled exterior even when she is in crisis. The faja is a daily performance of strength that hides the emotional and economic strains she bears.

2. What does throwing the faja out the window reveal about Lulú’s emotional state during the crisis over her son Adonis?
Throwing the faja out the window is a release of pent-up frustration and despair. Lulú has invested everything in Adonis’s success; when he fails (losing his job, lying to his family), her carefully built image cracks. Discarding the faja shows that she no longer wants to armor herself against shame. It is a nonverbal admission that the effort of “holding it together” has become unbearable.

3. How does Cara’s own relationship with her body compare to Lulú’s?
Cara endures physical pain silently—she undergoes a cyst operation and leaves the hospital alone, refusing to bother others. She also hides her suffering behind humor and deflection. Like Lulú’s faja, Cara’s stoicism is a form of armor. However, Cara’s armor is mental rather than physical. Both women resist showing weakness, but Cara learns from Lulú’s release that vulnerability can be a step toward connection.

4. In what way does the faja connect to the novel’s title How Not to Drown in a Glass of Water?
The title refers to Ángela’s criticism that Cara is “drowning in a glass of water”—overreacting to small problems. Yet the faja shows that even a small, everyday garment can feel like a drowning weight. Lulú’s act of throwing it away is an act of not drowning: she refuses to keep compressing herself into an impossible shape. The novel suggests that survival sometimes means letting go of the very tools you thought were keeping you afloat. For more on this tension, see the theme of family obligation and sacrifice.

Conclusion

The faja is a potent symbol in How Not to Drown in a Glass of Water. It condenses the pressures on immigrant women’s bodies—to be small, firm, controlled—and the explosive moment when that control is voluntarily abandoned. Lulú’s discarded girdle is not an end but a beginning: it clears space for a messier, more genuine life. Cruz uses this concrete object to show that resilience is not always about tightening your grip; sometimes it is about letting go. For further reading, explore the main book page.