Yesterday we went to Duluth to do some much needed shopping. All the usual things on the list: toilet paper, paper towels, dog food, laundry soap, clothespins etc. We also needed to get some new khakis for Husband & I intended to look for something fun & girly to wear to a wedding this weekend. It was a nice spring day. Lake Superior looked magnificent: tiny white caps frothing on top of slate blue waves. Inviting to spend a few hours sitting in Canal Park by the Lift Bridge. (Another time, and soon too.)
Anyway, we went to one of the few stores in which I will shop. It was not the best trip. I’m not sure what the fashion people are thinking these days. Seriously, everything has either been time warped from a Bill & Ted movie or it looks like it came from a bowl of sherbet. And the ruffles, dear lord the ruffles…I mean do I look like I need to draw attention to my cleavage? I can do scoop neck, low cut etc but I do NOT do ruffles. My cleavage needs no enhancing…just some truly sexy support (see Bra Rant for the beginning of all this).
To add insult to injury the saleslady (who knows me, I shop here frequently) proceeded to show me the most gorgeous new bra. Yep, that’s right, she went there. Of course it looks amazing, just exactly what I want…too bad it doesn’t come in my size. I’m not kidding when I say I went on a 10 minute rant in the middle of the store.
Husband was slowly but surely inching his way out the door. I’m waving my hands, beyond totally outraged at the indignity of having to endure this line of conversation. The lady tried to say “Well, have you looked online? We carry larger sizes there” and “Well we do have this style here that may work for you.” Needless to say this only incensed me more. I went on a tear. It went a little something like this:
Ummm yeah, that doesn’t really work for me. See I’m not looking for a white/black/beige bra. I’m looking for something stunning, in a demi cup with satin & bows, or a plunge in silk with embroidery. I am sick to death of wearing these old lady bras that either flatten by boobs our or turn them into some creepy bullet shape last seen at a Madonna concert sometime in the 90s. It’s completely unreasonable to expect me to tolerate these ugly, sex appeal-less things. I cannot be the only woman in the world who thinks she deserves some lingerie (panties, bras & other delicious naughty things) that make her feel amazing, look gorgeous & walk like she’s got a secret. Not to mention the men….why in the world would they want to see this crap. It’s off-putting! And think about them trying to purchase it…forget it. No man in his right mind would attempt to give it as a gift…he’s better off getting a new blender.
After a few more minutes of the same course I threw my hands in the air, marched into a dressing room & beat my head against the wall. (None of this stopped me from trying on stuff that was obviously inferior.) This just made me mad at myself, bad that I’m not a Madison Ave fashion plate & sad that I fell into the same trap women have been falling into for years.
Well no more…it’s not easy when I’m bombarded by people telling me I should be less than what I am (they’re just jealous…they wish they had my cleavage!) However, I have been reminded that I’ve got more than a few people (plenty with the women they love in the same cup as it were) who will give me all the support I need. Thus I shall press on…stay tuned for more insane ranting.