Yesterday I was doing a little shopping when I happened to walk past a lingerie shop. On impulse I went in.
I’ve needed new bras for a while.
I rang the bell and they buzzed me inside. I immediately realised I could’ve made a mistake.
This was not going to be a ‘just popping in’ visit.
Before I knew it, a saleswoman had given me a glass of champagne and another had found out my bra size.
‘I’m not sure what I am,’ I replied when she asked me. ‘Maybe a 34 C, I’m quite small, I..’
She whipped out her tape measure.
‘36D,’ she said. ‘Right, let’s…’
‘Hang on, hang on, you cannot be right, there’s no way I’m a D cup. Or a 36.’
But suddenly there I was, with my top off, being told by the bra specialist to bend over, get my tits into the bra this way, no that way, excellent darling, stand up, put you hand in, move the left breast to the right and the right to the left, look at that, perfect darling perfect…’
I felt like I was part of Absolutely Fabulous.
Also, I worked out there is an art to wearing a bra.
I have never worked this out before.
The white lace one that I loved wasn’t quite right. Neither was the black one. The red one was sluttish. The ivory one made me look a bride
Before I knew it I had tried on 25 bras. The two that we decided on were rather beautiful. When I say we, the saleswoman was very involved. Trying a bra had become like trying on shoes. I was fitted, stroked, smoothed, paraded in front of the mirror, paraded in front of the other saleswoman, lifted up, tucked in and tweaked.
In a very professional bra way of course.
I eventually settled on two bras. Mostly I wanted to get away from the shop; I suddenly felt smothered by all the lace, satin and sales.
Buying bras is an exhausting business.
And an expensive one.
I walked out with my size 36D breasts and my new lace bras. I’d bought a few pairs of panties to match, because, well darling, you have to, you cannot wear mismatched underwear. And when I queried the price of the panties, the bra ladies raised their eyebrows at me like ‘everyone pays this for underwear.’
As I was leaving the saleswoman called after me.
‘Don’t forget darling. Put the bra on, bend over, get your tits in, stand up, fasten it, put your hand in, move the left right and the right left, check, if not perfect bend over again.’
YES, LIKE WE ALL HAVING FUCKING TIME TO DO THIS IN THE MORNING.
I don’t even like wearing a bra.