The Fitting

I think that I have established through past comments that I am no fan of Oprah's. Too much of what she does is all about her, but that is beside the point. Today however, I have to give her a sheepish thumbs up for her advocacy of getting fitted for a bra. Now I know this is a delicate topic to introduce (no Dennis pun intended), but since I know that about 95% of the people who read my blog are women and most of them related to me, I feel free to expound on the topic. (Men if you're squeamish or embarrassed, stop reading now.) I have been planning for months to make a trip to Nordstroms to have one of these bra fittings she advocates. The only thing I could contemplate with more shopping dread is going in for a new swimming suit. Although this seemed like a treat and I could never invision anything that would make shopping for a swimming suit seem like a treat. This was a different kind of dread.
Mind you, I am not typically a Nordstroms shopper. In fact, I can honestly say that I have only purchased two things from Nordstroms in the past and that was only because I had gift certificates. Actually, truth be known, I am not much of a shopper in general. If you can't find it at Fred Meyer why bother. Oh yes, my wardrobe wreaks of fashion slavery!
In preparation for the journey to this den of polished nails, pointy shoes and snooty sales people I did take a shower, but I did not apply any makeup. This only accentuated the bad hair day I seemed to be having. I just put on a head band to pull it back and sallied forth anyway.
The lingerie department of Nordstroms at Northgate Mall is located on the 3rd floor so naturally I had to parade my naked face through the whole store. The girls at the makeup counter could tell that it was pointless to even approach me.
When I got to the top floor, before me streched a veritable sea of multi-colored brassieres. I knew that white ones were out but was positively floored by just how out they were. I looked around for a few minutes until the one lone salesperson asked if she could help. I blurted out "I am here to get a bra fitting!" like you might exclaim "I just won the lottery!" Glad we got past the impression that I might be cool and sophisticated, but I think she could tell by the casual attire. Her name was Kelly, about 21 or 22 I'd say, cute short hair in the popular red tones.
We proceeded to the dressing rooms where she measured me around the rib cage and had me raise my hands in the air. At which point my badly fitted, self-selected bra proceeded to ride right up over my boobs, causing Kelly to exclaim "See that's what happens when your bra does not fit correctly. We'll take care of that!" She then looked at the tag (36B in case you are wondering) and said she would be right back some fitting bras. She comes back with two and proceded to tell me that I was actually a 34DD. Perhaps I was stuck in a time warp where I could only remember the size of the bra from my first bra fitting. I don't profess to have ever really tried to figure out what size I was since then, I would just grab ones that looked about right and try on a bunch until I found something that felt comfortable and didn't make my breasts look like two torpedos. So imagine how shocked, amazed, even embarrassed I was to find out that I was a double D. It just doesn't sound right! The cups looked gigantic compared to my pitiful bra lying on the chair.
Kelly then proceeded to bring in bra after bra until we got things packaged just right. I won't go into details about what getting packaged right involved. I don't think I could do justice to how funny and yet surreal it all was. I found myself wishing that I lived in 18th century England, where I would have a maid that came in each morning to help me dress. Only then could I imagine getting things packaged right each morning. It was the very last bra she gave me that finally did the trick. It was almost a magical moment when it all fell into place (all puns, innuendos intended). Having all that coverage may take a bit of getting used to, but I could instantly see and feel the difference. Who knew??
There are are couple things I learned from this adventure. 1. It is amazing how sometimes our perception of ourselves is very different from the reality (36B to a 34DD??) and sometimes it takes an outside observer to point out the reality. 2. That despite the advice coming from Oprah, you do have to treat yourself to something special once in awhile.
Now, if only buying a new swimsuit could turn out so pleasant and surprising!! (If you haven't been fitted for a bra girls, go out and do it!)