Yesterday I did what I usually don't dread so much: I went shopping. It wasn't the shopping itself, it was the item that caused me pain: bras. Normally I'm able to whip into a Cacique shop, have the lady there fit me and grab a great fitting, nicely priced bra. However, there's one drawback to losing weight. I'm officially too small for the Cacique store any more and therefore have to shop like mortals in department stores and the like.
Here's what I don't get. How can I three women who are supposed to be bra fitting specialists measure me at three completely different sizes? Also, to the lady who measured me with my top on, come one. I know we're in a time of being politically correct and body sensitive, but I'm fairly certain the large origami-style tufts that were placed across my boobs on the t-shirt I was wearing probably threw the measurement off a little. It's a bra. I'm more than happy to strip down and let you measure the girls properly.
So after three places, three rounds of leaving in tears of sorrow and frustration, I had a moment that I missed my mom. Odd since it was her boobs that ended up turning on her in the end, but growing up, bra shopping was never a horrible life-altering experience. My mom always made me get measured, she pulled style after style of bra off the shelf and shielded me from horrible saleswomen. While shopping for a bra was a pain as a 13 year old D cup, it was never tear-provoking, embarrassing or frustrating. Mom, I didn't give you nearly enough credit.
For now I am in a bra that fits better but not perfect and was way too expensive for what I got. However, I've come to the conclusion that I'm not going back until I have hours of time and loads of patience. It's either this or I gain weight until I can fit back into a cacique bra.
1 comment:
Or you can stop wearing bras. Cheaper, Easier, and Liberating.
Although I'm not quite sure how that works when you have large breasts. I lack in that department.
=)
-Brenda Kidd Navarro
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