It's about to get Personal

Yes. That's right. I'm gonna write about underpinnings. And other things adding to the frustration that is my life. But first, brassieres.
Here's the deal. If you are a man, you have no idea how difficult it is to find a good bra. If you are a woman, you surely must feel my pain.
For my male readers, let me give you the run-down. While every woman has her own particular preferences, fit is the most important. No one wants weird bulging where there shouldn't be bulges. No one wants to constantly pull on bra straps to keep them up. No one wants their circulation cut off. Nobody wants weirdly-shaped boobs, like that girl in my Math Analysis class had junior year (she's the one who tried to steal my pseudo boyfriend, and my friend Bre used to make fun of the girl's boobs, because they were kind of triangular-- think Madonna cones with a downward slope). Fashions may change from time to time, but a good bra is important. Without the right one, you start looking like a granny, or just lumpy and frumpy. No thanks.
The process of bra shopping is so stressful that in lingerie stores and department stores, there are "certified fit experts," who are women in charge of feeling you up and telling you that you and your boobs are second-class. In dressing rooms throughout the women's departments of any major chain, there are little signs that read "Are you one of the 7 out of every 10 women not wearing the correct sized bra?" They play on your fear, my friends, driving you downstairs to succumb to the humiliation of having some stranger wrap a measuring tape around you, and getting way too close for comfort. If you thought I hated going to the doctor for an annual breast exam, this is way worse. There is no privacy, and inevitably the lady tells you that you've been wearing the wrong bra for years and that you need to go up two cup sizes, which is pretty much the stupidest thing you've ever heard. Yeah, maybe if I get some surgery to go with that new bra, sister.
Anyway, after going through all the humiliation, you then have to pay through the nose for something good. But women will pay. Why? To get the heck out of the bra section of the store as fast as possible. We find something we like, buy it in bulk, and hope to never see the measuring-tape lady again.
Oh, there are some strange women who actually ENJOY shopping for lingerie. Of course, these are the girls who used to run around naked in the locker room after P.E. who grew up to wear lingerie in public or for a profession. Those women are weird. Or possibly they are the 3 out of 10 women who DO wear the right sized bra and like to flaunt their knowledge and their gym-toned booties. I don't know. I avoid those women. I do not want to be friends with them.
For the last eight years or so, I've been able to avoid most of the brassiere-shopping stress by sticking to one particular brand and style. I'm not so sure other people would love it like I do, but it is perfect for me. It's seamless. It's feminine. It's very plain and that works for me. But wouldn't you know-- the greedy people who manufacture it (Cabernet is the brand, but heck if I can find any company information to write a letter of protest) have decided to discontinue the style. They say they are improving upon it. So when I got word of this a few months ago, I bought out all of the said bras in my size at both Albuquerque Dillards stores (Macy's does not carry them anymore). While I complained to a saleslady about my trauma, she said, "Did you know that you can go up a cup size and down a measurement to get the same fit?" Really? I was intrigued. But I was also poor, and buying two hit the wallet hard enough at the time.
This weekend, I had a few extra moments, and thought I'd go see what the "new and improved" version of my favorite bra looked like.
Now, I'm going to be completely honest. If you live in Albuquerque, the very WORST PLACE YOU COULD EVER SHOP FOR A BRA IS DILLARDS AT WINROCK. Dillards at Winrock. Dillards at Winrock! BOO!
At this particular establishment, you not only have to go through the above-mentioned trauma, but you are forced to work with the most obnoxious sales staff EVER.
Now, I'm sure there are some nice ladies who work in that department. I just never deal with them. I'd pretty much rather listen to fingernails on a chalkboard than go into Dillards for a bra, but they are the only ones who sell what I want.
One particularly offensive lady feels it is her duty to comment and "compliment" every purchase. Once I stood in line while Offensive Lady #1 was training Offensive Lady #2 on the register. If OL#1 is the only person in the department, I won't shop there. OL#1 was telling a gal in front of me how "cute" everything she had was. Then she'd wave it around for #2 to see. I remember thinking, "Hmm... that would make me uncomfortable." Then #1 started talking about what a lucky man the customer's husband was. At that point, I looked up at the customer, who was about 70 years old. Ew. I mean, more power to her, but I think maybe for everyone's sake, she should shop online.
Anyway, I went up to the counter to pay for my stuff, and #1 started talking about how pretty the bra was. Um, thanks? No one sees it but me. But then she started trying to up-sale me on a different brand. I was honest with her-- I'd never tried that brand because it didn't come in white, so I wasn't interested. #1 couldn't leave well enough alone, but started to pry. "Why do you only wear white? Are you a Mormon?" Before I could answer #2 said, "Mormons are weird. Don't they wear funny underwear?" #1 then said, "Yes, actually they do. My uncle is a Mormon Bishop in the Philippines. I once saw him in it and I laughed and laughed." Then turning to me, "So you ARE a Mormon, right?" And I said, "Yes, I'm a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints." And #2 said, "So do you wear that crazy underwear?"
SERIOUSLY? Does anyone else find this question more than a little rude?
But I said yes, I wear special undergarments, which are white, which is why I prefer white bras. All this time, I kept swiping my debit card, hoping the transaction would be over as soon as possible. Where was the ACLU when I needed them? I thought about complaining to the management, but I just wanted out of there, pronto.
Well, this Saturday, I'm happy to say, was not nearly as traumatic, though it was still not what you'd call a good day at Dillards.
When I walked in, I scanned for #1 and #2, and breathed a sigh of relief as only old ladies in pajamas were manning the department. I went to the display, and was delighted to see so many of my former favorites still out and about. When a new saleslady came by (#3, we'll call her), I asked if these were still discontinued. She said yes, they are just selling off the last of their inventory. I asked about the new version of the bra, and she pointed out something that only comes in nude.
Really?
When I told her I really prefer white, she didn't seem to understand me. Would I like black?
No, #3. White.
Then I asked her about what #1 had said about adjusting sizes to see if there was something comparable that would work. But that was all the license #3 needed, I guess, to whip out that tape measure and start touching away.
First, she said, "What size bra do you wear normally?" I told her. "No, you're measuring at a ___." What? No possible way. I told her that maybe it would help if I took my jacket off first. Hello, McFly! But she still was convinced that I was wearing the wrong size, and started pinching the skin on the side of my rib cage, telling me we needed to move that forward. Um, excuse me lady, but even though I'm a little chubby, that is one area of my body where there is nothing pinchable. And how she expected a bra three sizes too big to move the unpinchable skin 6 inches forward was a mystery.
I went back to the rack. I grabbed the three bras in white, in the so-called comparable size, put them on the counter and told her I was ready to go. She insulted me further saying not to worry-- they'd stretch out. Who does she think I am? Dolly Parton? Then I said I wish they lasted better, as expensive as they are. The "new and improved model" besides being the wrong color, is also $20 more. I did ask if she knew of any plans to introduce white for people who prefer it, and she said no, that I was the only customer she's ever had who asked for it.
I'm guessing it's only because everyone else has wised-up and no longer tries to shop at stupid Winrock Dillards. I'm not going back.