Monday, November 19, 2007

The foundation of a wardrobe

I've been watching a lot of Tim Gunn and What Not to Wear recently. I have no idea why. Well, actually I do, because I know my wardrobe needs serious help. But they keep harping on how bras only last 6 months, and how many women are wearing the wrong bra size, and finally I thought about when the last time I bought a bra was. I think right after C was weaned. Which was almost five years ago. So I decided to take the plunge, so to speak.

I took a poll at the gym this morning, and the consensus was Victoria's Secret. So once I dropped the kids off this afternoon, I headed over there and was both horrified and disappointed. I am no where near the size I though I was, and have gone down TWO cup sizes since before I was pregnant. Yes folks, I am now an A cup. So help me, because I swear my boobs are bigger than they were a decade ago. But, apparently, they are just more droopy. And the side that both kids preferred when I was nursing? THAT one is even smaller. Which makes me rather lopsided. Of course.

The sales lady at Victoria's Secret finally gave up and basically told me she couldn't help me. Fabulous. I did buy one bra there, the best of the sorry bunch, just in case I couldn't find one someplace else. Then I headed to Lord and Taylor, home of the little old ladies in our town. I couldn't find a clerk to help me, but since I now had a general idea of what I was looking for, I was able to collect a fair number of bras to try on. The only one that fit perfectly? The $60 bra. Of course.

I couldn't bring myself to spend $60 on a bra that was supposed to only last 6 months, so I purchased two different, much cheaper, alternatives figuring that I would wear both of them for a while and then I would go back and purchase more of whichever one I would groan about if it was in the wash. At pick-up, as I was regaling everyone about my afternoon (why yes! You don't converse with perfect strangers about your bra size, or lack thereof?), someone suggested a specialty store near here. Where apparently you can get someone to help you, and they won't give up on you just because your boobs are lopsided and rather oddly shaped.

So Rebecca doesn't know it, but when she arrives here from London, I'm taking her to get me fitted for a bra. Because that's what friends do when they haven't seen each other in close to a year...