Out Shopping For The Girls
"You want me to bring you another 38F?", I hear the sales women say. In the busy dressing room another fitter is sent away to retrieve a 36DD. And then comes along my helper. "Here's the 34A", she says as she passes it around the curtain. "You sure I don't need a 36?", I question. "No, the 36 was too big, it will slide up your back", she responds confidently. Thank goodness for a little weight gain. It could have been worse if my nearly A's hadn't sprouted into full fledged ones.
Bra shopping has never been my thing. And I don't think I was ever actually fitted for a bra, except maybe one time when I had to get one of those funky bras you wear under a strapless bridesmaid gown and then end up throwing away because the wire has left a permanent mark on your chest.
All and all, this was a productive albeit expensive, endeavor. I ended up with five new bras, 2 white, 1 tan, 1 ivory, and 1 Bette on the L Word blue. My girls are happy. My wallet is not.