Today I went bra shopping for the first time in way too long. Supposedly you are supposed to replace your bras every six months, but who the fuck has time to do that? And who the fuck has all that money?? Bras are EXPENSIVE. Maybe just my size is expensive? Target and Wal-Mart cannot help me with this item of clothing.
From the time I was in high school, I have been blessed with my two lady friends. My mom was a stickler for posture, so that made my chest seem even bigger because unlike my friends, I was not allowed to hunch over. Gain weight, lose weight - my friends are still there. They refuse to leave me. It's like they took out a 30 year mortgage, paid it off, and are here to stay. You would think at 40, I would be used to the annoyance that is bra shopping, but I am not.
In high school and college, my mom made me go to a special store that properly fits you. I have PTSD from those experiences. Even with my sailor like mouth, I am super shy about my body. In this special bra store, the sales lady comes into the dressing room WITH you! They stare at your chest, measure you with a measuring tape, and help you properly put your bra on. Are you embarrassed for my 14 year old self?? I am. It was AWFUL. I HATED going there. Ugh. A teenager has enough angst. I did not need the bra ladies adding to mine.
I am super loud. However, ones bra size should not be mentioned loudly enough for all to hear! I still think my mom owes me an apology. I am grateful she helped me have supportive bras and I don't have saggy breasts because of it, but.....for fuck's sake, it was traumatizing.
So here I am today, 40 years old, texting my cousins, aunts, and my mom from the fucking dressing room of Nordstrom's while I stand in shock at my bra size. G-d bless my grandma and her genes, we are all well endowed. Well, we, minus one...sorry Aunt "LACA." Yes, I sent a group text. Yes, I am still in disbelief. You know what else is shocking? $78 for a damn bra. Sure, the bra is supportive. Sure, my shirts look better, but you need more than one bra!! How the hell can one justify this much money on a fucking bra!!! HOLY SHIT!!! I need to take out a bank loan when it is time to purchase new bras!!
The Nordstrom's saleswoman saw me with my bras, asked if I needed help and I immediately said no. I don't give a flying rats ass that I am 40 and skinnier than I have been in decades, you bitches are not coming into the dressing room with your molesting measuring tape.
And now the saleswoman is asking if everything is alright since I have been in the dressing room for quite some time. I was in there for awhile partly due to my group text and partly because every bra I pulled gave me double boob, armpit boob, or had so many hooks I thought I was a fucking fisherman.
Damn it. Just come in and measure me. Great, now she wants to assist me in putting on my new bra. I AM FORTY!!! I CAN PUT ON MY OWN DAMN BRA!! Seriously. Is there a training lingerie sales people go through??? I want to run the next training. There IS a way to make this experience less uncomfortable. Perhaps a joke could lighten the mood?
After many different style of bras and more hooks than I can count, I was more than satisfied with what became my new bra.
The best part of the new bra - two hooks! TWO! I am not even sure how that's possible. I haven't seen two hooks since my training bra.
The worst part of the new bra - I had to sing my ABCs to figure out exactly how big my breasts are and that letter my friends: well, it only belongs in the alphabet.
