Today i was traumatised. it was shoe shopping day as me and paula both had the day off and currently have lovely dresses but no shoes.
Let me make an aside here: i'm sorry but for the next month or so I reckon my blog is going to end up having a few wedding related rants (amongst the regular rants). and probably happy stuff too. end of aside.
I decided sure I might try and get an aul bra to go with my dress too, seeing as I was lugging it round with me. The use of the word lugging is to throw Mark off the scent, my dress is not the type you could lug if you tried. Anyhoo I queued (queued! on a tuesday afternoon!) for the Arnotts ladies, for there are multiple busy fitters, to measure me up. I got your standard middle-aged Arnotts sales person - a reliable model I would think, a trustworthy type. Now i don't think I'll relay the exact results to you - I've had a look at our massive new census and I reckon there's a line in there that calls for that particular statistic.
Suffice to say I was surprised. Imagine if you will finding out you were having triplets when you thought you were having one, or looking under your bed and finding a monster, or I dunno, finding out your boobs were an ENTIRELY different size than you thought. Both measurements, gone out the window in different directions. I laughed. I *pshawed*. I snickered as she pinged my current bra straps and said 'no way'. She gave up anyway after a bit, as nothing worked with my dress. I was all set to abandon this particular shopping quest but Paula insisted I was in for a penny, in for a pound (and she thought it was hilarious and wanted to see my face if BT's confirmed this awful truth).
I am shocked, I am awed, and I am not entirely pleased. In BT's much more plush lingerie bit, I found a young French lady, and if anyone knows about these things, the French do. She curled her lip in a Gallic style when I told her what size I was wearing and pretty much told me before she went near a measuring tape what I was - concurring with her frumpier counterpart. In fact, when I had my dress on and the brand new wonderfully fitting bra, the staff of the BT lingerie department assembled to coo at both my dress and my boobs. Which was nice...
Tomorrow the acid test: M&S
9 comments:
Ha ha Jill M&S are deadly they will sort you out no bother. Get ready to queue there though! And buy me a few bits while you're at it, I love their knickers.
Go on! Tell us - what's the magic number/letter combo?
Yeah Jill, if you don't tell us we'll only guess and surmise. Publicly on the internet.
i was watching this show on the Learning Channel a few weeks back that showed how a lot of gals consistently wore the wrong size bra...one woman was convinced she was a DD cup but as it turned ut, she was a G!!!!
madness!
i imagine if dudes had boobs they'd experience the exact opposite problem.
ah im glad i have provoked such thoughtful discussion. I did hear that some mad figure like 85% of woman wear the wrong size, but then i'm all like "not me, nosiree" well turns out i was wrong.
yes damo you are right. men are opposite. I have since discussed this with several lady types, and all are agreed it is traumatic to find out they are a different size completely.
Sylda, I thought you were trying to shake off the boob-obsessed image...
you mean traumatic in a good way, right?
I think she means traumatic in a "never able to buy underwear in a non-specialist shop again" and a "certain lines designed by supermodels and popstars being completely off limits forever" kind of way.
You started it! KK wants to know too
booooooooooooooooooooooooooooobs
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