Bustin' out

I went to the mall today. (You know you're in the middle of a nasty recession when you visit a mall just a few weeks before Christmas, on a Sunday afternoon, and the crowds are no heavier than usual.) Today I was on a mission; I was hoping to buy a few new bras. I hate shopping. Bra shopping is particularly annoying. I can never seem to find anything that actually fits. As it happens, all of my bras are old and stretched out. I was getting a bit desperate. I've known for several years that I should get myself properly measured and fitted, but I've never known where to go. I know Macy's occasionally has fitters in their lingerie department, but when? I haven't a clue.

This afternoon I hit JC Penny first. My visit there was dismal and disappointing. I tried on 7-10 bras to no avail. Then I made my way over to Macy's. After half-heartedly, and a bit aimlessly, wandering the lingerie department a store employee walked by...a store employee who had a tape measure draped across her shoulders! "Excuse me ma'am. " I almost gasped. "Are you doing bra fittings?" It turned out that she was.

She pulled me into the fitting room. First she took the measurement for my band size. "34." She said. That sounded about right. Then she took the measurement for the cup size. "C." I thought I must have heard her wrong. She must have made a mistake, because I knew there was no way I would fill a C cup. I have rather small breasts. In high school and college (my first 2 years, immediately following high school) I didn't even fill an A cup. When I was nursing (I was the true 24 hour "Dairy Queen") I was a solid B cup, but Little Man was born almost 6 years ago. C cup?! That was just insane.

She saw the doubt etched across my face, so she measured once again and insisted I was indeed a 34 C. She kindly, but firmly, suggested I try on a few in that size. I figured I knew she was wrong, but I followed her advice anyway. Imagine my sheer surprise when I discovered that they fit! Shell-shocked and flabbergasted I tried on a 4-5 more in my new size and ended up buying 3. I'll probably go back in a week and buy a few more.

I drove home in a slight daze. 34 C isn't too shabby. My standard joke used to be that my bra size is triple-HA. (As in, "HA, HA, HA!") That joke just doesn't apply anymore.