I'm sitting in a parking lot waiting for my husband to come out of a Bass Pro Shop. I just spent the last hour trying on bras at Lane Bryant. It was a miserable experience.
Not once during my hour there did a sales woman speak to me. They weren't really all that busy, but the only time I was approached was to unlock a fitting room.
I tried on half a dozen bras, one of my least favorite things to shop for. But I have no idea what my true size is. I've never been measured because I've always been too embarassed about the whole ordeal.
The thing is...I'm busty, just like most of the women in my family. I would love to get a reduction at some point, but I need to lose weight first. Trying bras on is always such a miserable experience. In fact, bras in general are just plain awful.
The best part of my day is coming home and taking the bra off. I usually head straight for my bedroom when I walk in the front door. Slipping into comfy clothes makes the day's cares just melt away.
But when you have to have them, you have to have them. Oh the joys of being a woman.
-- Post From My iPhone
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