Sunday, October 15, 2006

The one where I get my tits out

The thing with shopping is that, unless you have ninety-squillion pounds to spend on shoes and sparkly things, it's a pretty soulless experience.

Especially if you go to your local Designer Village. Designer Villages are rubbish. Well, the only one I've ever been to is, and I have never let fact get in the way of a good old-fashioned moan. It is made entirely of concrete and smells of fake tan and despair. It is full of shops that sell things you would never need, such as giant Samsonite suitcases and chandeliers. We only went there to visit the Vans shop, and when we got there it had closed down. Sweet.

I did get Small Person some DC trainers for a fiver though. And a magic lady in the Gossard shop both impressed and unnerved me, all at the same time.

The last time I was measured for a bra was in Marks and Spencer's. I was seven months pregnant at the time, and the lady was rubbish at it. She tried telling me that my cup size was smaller than it had been when I wasn't pregnant. It wasn't, and measuring and I parted company. I reasoned that just sort of trying stuff on could be presumed to be just as accurate, given that an actual tape measure seemed to not really be any valid indication of what size I should be buying.

Anyway.

Since I have lost loads of weight it has become apparent that I might need some new *coughs* foundation garments. So we went into the Gossard shop. Do you do measuring, I asked. No, said the girl-who-looked-about-fifteen, we do fitting. Right-oh, said I. How does that work, exactly? Three minutes later I was standing in a fitting room, stripped to my bra. The girl-who-looked-about-fifteen gave me an appraising stare, nodded briskly and disappeared. She came back seconds later, handed me a bra and told me to try it on. It fitted. Perfectly. Then she came back with another one, in a different style, to make sure I really was that size. I was.

I find that slightly worrying. How does that translate to a person's CV, I wonder? What's the training like? And, more importantly, how the bloody hell did she do that?? I don't get it. She was absolutely bang-on, first time.

And so I left the Designer Village with some new underwear and a certain sense of self-satisfaction. I mean. 34DD. It's quite impressive really, isn't it?

Ahem.

14 Comments:

Blogger zanna chimed in with...

34DD? Fantastic! I might nip up there tomorrow to witness this miracle for myself, (to the amazing lady in the shop that is), not to yours to look at your tits.

15 October, 2006 20:17  
Blogger Spinsterella chimed in with...

I can tell by looking at bras if they're my size (not quite as impressive as yours though), but not at actual bosoms.

15 October, 2006 20:40  
Blogger tom909 chimed in with...

First thing on a monday morning Surly - and I'm reading about your tits. What you trying to do to me!

16 October, 2006 09:31  
Anonymous Other Half chimed in with...

I stood there and applauded...both at the shop girls talent for guessing size and at SG's magnificent melons !!!

Sorry if that's inappropriate hon, delete as necessary.

16 October, 2006 09:37  
Blogger realdoc chimed in with...

There's a few people that would fancy that job. 34DD that's very impressive, mine look like a couple of old socks attached to my chest.

16 October, 2006 14:15  
Blogger First Nations chimed in with...

dear jesus, we NEED that girls' skillz over here.

16 October, 2006 17:59  
Blogger suburban wonder chimed in with...

Wow, them's some bodacious tatas! I've got 38 DDs, but they should really be called 38 Longs...

16 October, 2006 19:26  
Anonymous Stu Savory chimed in with...

If selfsame saleslady tried to sell bras to some of today's fashion models she'd need one with dents in :-(

16 October, 2006 19:36  
Blogger Kellycat chimed in with...

Soon you'll be able to leave the fluffing behind and become a proper porn star...

17 October, 2006 06:30  
Blogger funny thing chimed in with...

Designer Villages are full of places selling cut-price, cut-glass. Handy if you're running a bit low on tasteless tacky picture-frames (and have a spare fifty quid to burn).

Crap if you just want cheap Cadbury's Creme Eggs and the latest Black Eyed Peas album for a fiver.

17 October, 2006 11:16  
Blogger The Swearing Lady chimed in with...

I don't know. You might be able to word that quite well on a CV. Like, Skill set: visual appraisal of appendages of war/accurate to-scale measurements of WMDs.

17 October, 2006 14:31  
Blogger Huw chimed in with...

Clearly, this girl needs an apprentice so her skill can be passed on for future generations. I am working on my application now.

17 October, 2006 15:27  
Anonymous pink chimed in with...

*cries into her a cup*

23 October, 2006 20:08  
Blogger Rob chimed in with...

Dear God in Heaven, what cup size must you have been when you were pregnant? (An old college friend of my wife's was uprated to an X-cup when the hormones hit.)

But yes, some skill set, and now I realise I picked the wrong career.

15 November, 2006 17:30  

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