For the past two going on three years, I have been exercising. It's to the point now I get grouchy if I don't get my exercise fix, although I can't promise I always love it. I have slowly but surely lost around 15 lbs. More importantly, I can pick up 30 lb dog food bags like a rock star and shovel snow without hurting myself.
This slow gradual weight loss has had a price.
Bras. I have gone through boob slingers like it's going out of style.
Used to be they would wear out. Now things fall out and nobody needs to see that.
If I knew someone that needed practically brand new boobie holders, I'd at least not feel so bad, but I'm what you might call large.
Thank you Grandma Skip. She probably weights less than a 100 lbs of which 10 lbs are boobs. I blame those genetics. Better than getting her temper, thank you very much.
In the pursuit of TaTa Holders that would contain the girls, THE MAN and I ended up at Victoria Secret over the weekend. For some reason, the lack of snow actually falling meant everyone headed to the one store I needed to visit.
There was a line for the dressing room four girls deep.
Girls with measuring tapes were running around and throwing bras over the dressing room doors to ladies.
I was measured and given a magic new number and pointed in the general direction of what I thought I wanted. Interestingly enough, the walls in the changing room at Vickys were padded. I think it was meant to be decorative, but in retrospect, it may have been for another reason.
Holed up with new bras, I proceeded to try them out.
Boobs fell out in weird places.
I pressed the buzzer on the wall and some tiny cute 20 something poked her head in. I am pretty sure her tatas were normal sized so I was doubting her abilities to really understand my predicament.
Mitra,what can I help you with?
Um. They are falling out. (are you blind?)
I think you need to measure me again.
They upsized me, downsized me, sideways sized me and finally sent me on my way over to check out with something called full coverage that kinda hurt my feelings.
It was a marathon session of bra trying on and the floor was littered with black bras. There were push up bras, bras with sparkles, bras with gems, bras with padding (as if!) and I had lost count how many I had shoved myself into.
It wasn't pretty and I was starting to feel real mean and ornery. Considered using bras as sling shots and the padded walls were getting on my nerves.
Which brings me around to a business concept that I think would work since I was starting to lose it towards the end.
Victoria Secret needs to have a cocktail lounge associated with their store. THE MAN had reached the tail end of his patience with waiting and could have used a nice glass of wine. He had texted me at some point and asked if the store had eaten me.
I needed a glass of wine myself. I wanted to hurt someone quite possibly by tying one of the measuring tapes around someones face.
I do think they would sell more bras. THE MAN winced at the last TaTa holder with the $50 price tag. Give him a little wine and he'll buy me two and a new pair of silk pjs without a backward glance.
And to the gentleman who was standing in the doorway to the fitting rooms in the middle of my marathon bra trying on session and who may have caught a glimpse of cranky me in a poor fitting black bra, I do apologise. Please take yourself over to the cocktail lounge of the store, have a double martini on my tab, and wash the horror of it all from your brain.