As if this wasn’t bad enough for one year, I finally broke down and headed to the experts for new bras. My poor boobs have been through a lot in the last two years — pregnancy, nursing and weaning. I didn’t have a clue what size I was anymore. All I knew is that the Bs I was wearing before I was pregnant didn’t fit anymore, the Fs (oh yeah, you read that right) I wore when nursing certainly didn’t fit anymore and the Cs I was wearing while I was pregnant were just plain worn out.
So off I went, dragging the hubby and peanut along for the ride under the guise of other shopping “while we’re out.”
To be honest, it wasn’t all that bad. It was certainly better than bathing suit shopping alone. The saleswoman measured me quickly (the official new me: 32 C, go figure!) and brought back a large selection to try on. We quickly found three I LOVED and I was set. Sure, it was awkward having a total stranger watch me hoist those poor saggy bags into a bra, but I figured that as long as I didn’t look at them uncovered in the mirror, she didn’t see them either. And IN the new bras, they look fantastic.
Ah, what a relief. Feeling confident, I tackled another female shopping albatross – jeans! The hubby and peanut had given me a gift certificate at Christmas to a local boutique for a pair of designer jeans. I kept putting it off, waiting to be the “right” size. Well, I figured now was the time. Again, thanks to a wonderful saleswoman who simply brought me every jean in the store that met my description of what I was looking for in what she thought would be my size, I left with two pairs of killer jeans. One fits like a glove and the other, after learning everything I know about fashion from Tim Gunn, is at the tailor being cinched in the waist to avoid any unsightly booty gap. But both pairs are definitely cut to be worn with heels! (Note to hubby: I’m ready for date night! Bring it on!)
Good jeans and good bras. What more could a gal ask for? Well, a good bathing suit, I guess?
Hey, two out of three ain’t bad.