Oh, I am so not a Real Girl. It's a sad fact that if an item in my wardrobe didn't come from REI, then it's from a thrift store. I confess: I hate shopping for clothes if they're for me. Thus, I end up buying all my clothes at REI, not only because of the convenience factor, but also because my employee discount kind of makes paying full retail anywhere seem like a waste of money. And yes, sure, the clothes REI sells kinda fits in with my outdoorsy-crunchy look I seem to have landed into because I could care less about spending time on coordinating outfits and looking good. My personal clothes-buying philosophy is that I should be able to get dressed in the dark, that every shirt should go with every pair of pants and that everything is neutral enough that I don't need to spend time getting matchy. Pretty seems to be a word that eludes me, and I'm okay with that.
Anyway, REI doesn't carry real bras. They carry sports bras, and I do have self-worth enough to not parade around a uniboob at all times. I desperately need new bras. I detest bra shopping in the worst way. It is only second to going to the dentist. The only way to make the bra buying experience somewhat bearable is for me to commit spending fat cash on bras, and to go to Nordstrom's. They have bra chicks - women whose job it is to fit you, then run in and out and bring you bras. This is an unbelievably fantastic service, because part of what I hate about bra shopping is trying on bras that don't fit, getting dressed again to go find more possibilities, and then repeating ad nauseum until I find a couple that work. The bra fitters get a proper fit, find bras that work for one's size and shape, and then bring them to you and adjust straps, etc. It's lovely because it cuts the shopping time dramatically, and aside from the pain of plunking down the credit card, it takes much of the misery out of bra shopping.
Despite my glowing testimonial of bra shopping at Nordstrom's, I can't drag my ass there to get much needed bras. I have three and they're falling apart. How un-sexy is that? Nevermind that I also just go for the industrial-strength bra because finding support and sexy hardly go together when you're looking for a bra in my size. Or else I just can't give it the time it would take for the planets to align into one perfect fitting, sexy, overpriced scrap of fabric and underwire.
Today I went into SF. I intended to go to Nordstrom's. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. But I went by REI, mostly to say hi to my boss there. I left with a bag of purchases, all Prana: a cute strappy tank top, a lacy skirt and a pair of stretchy zip-off convertible pants. Good lord, if they could just sell bras.
Go figure, I somehow managed to do an unusually girlie thing today. I dove back into the higher maintenance world of the brazilian wax. Ostensibly, it's because cycling season is here and this results in less ingrown hairs when I spend countless hours in spandex shorts. But there's something nice about the tidy smoothness. Hello? I can get hair stripped from my girlie bits, but I can't go buy a couple bras.
How lame is that?
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2 comments:
If it makes you feel any better, I can't bring myself to do either of those things. Both are painful, in different ways.
that is reassuring. i thought i was an anomaly.
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