Please Pass the Salt

Ok, here’s my rant (post weekend). We went shopping this Saturday. Mostly for me… Ok, all for me. Rob bought me a lovely pair of shoes and a beautiful skirt. I love them both, and I feel very very spoiled as they are from Tommy Hilfiger. So, I’m a lucky dame in that regard. I also bought myself a couple of things. I got a button up blouse from Reitmans (which I need to get altered, as it’s too big in the middle), and I bought a new bra.

The bra is really what I want to talk about. Or maybe more complain about. See, my regular 34D hasn’t been fitting properly lately. So I figured that maybe I was buying too low of a cut, and it was causing me to pop out the top so much (it’s really common for me). So we went to West Edmonton Mall, which is the largest mall in almost the world. I think that there is a mall in Singapore and one in Australia that could rival it for number of shops and for pure size. I looked at every shop that sold bras in that mall and could only find one that fit me! I know! One! In the whole mall! Bah. Anyway, so I waltzed into the super fancy “Le Sassions” and talked to the first girl I could find. She happened to be very nice and very pretty, by the way (it really has no bearing on the rest of the story, but there you go). So I told her that I was looking for a new bra in a 34D. So she brings me two to try on. I try them on, and she comes in to look (I know! Such perverts!) and tells me that I’m not a 34, I’m a 32. Which automatically makes me a bigger cup size. Grawr. So, then she pulls out about 7 different 32DD bras, ranging in style and color (none of which I particularly liked). I tried them all on, with her peeking in after I had them on to give her two cents and bring me different ones that might fit well. Hours latter, I finally find one that fits well, doesn’t shift or poke and isn’t see-through. I looked at the price tag and just about choked – $100 for a bra. For an article of clothing that is smaller than most things I own, that costs more than most things I own. Le Sigh. I asked the girl to hold on to it, and I would be back. We then searched the mall one last time to no avail. Seriously. I even went in the “large” girls store to see what the smallest size they carried is. Arg. Eventually, I was forced to go back and purchase the super expensive bra (and you know, if I was thinking, I should have picked up the matching panties… but water under the bridge now!). It was either that, or go around with an ill-fitting bra, have unsightly popping out of the top of my bra, and very likely end up with tissue damage (aka saggy breasts) in the end. So, now I have a wonderfully comfortable, French bra that cost an arm and a leg. It really should have diamonds, or be gold plated for that amount.

So, that’s my complaint. I hate bras. We got ice cream at the end, so it was all better by then. Mmm Mmm Ice cream!

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