Saturday, April 19, 2008

Maybe I'm grotesque and deformed and I'm just not aware of it.


I have been out buying clothes for work today. Three guesses as to what my colours are. For as much as I complain about not being able to find anything in my size, I find stuff that's okay if I just look. It just takes long, painful hours of looking, that's all.

One thing is becoming increasingly clear to me though: there is hell on earth and it is called bra shopping.

Why does it have to be so damn hard? Why do I have to be such an uncommon size?

What I've learned is that the average store stocks two bras that are my size. The exception will be La Senza, which will stock 10. All told, there will be about 20 bras tagged with my size in an average mall.

Out of these, three will be neon green. Four will ride up in the back, in spite of being the right size. Five will have a huge amount of padding, and in two of these there will be soooo much padding that I wonder where you go about sticking the breasts in them.

I will end up with something that will do but that I'm not super happy about but that I bought because the other ones are sagging and I need new ones now. Why is this so hard?