What does a woman do to celebrate an event, a check in the mail or the fact that it's Tuesday? Go shopping, du'uh. Since Sal and I finished our little movie, we wanted to celebrate so off we went to our local department store to buy some new granny panties and a bra!
Shopping in a department store is just the best and worst experience. The first thing I notice is that department store smell. It's like perfume mixed with leather and dry-cleaning solution. I can't get enough of it as I inhale deeeeeeeply.
Because I actually went to an 'expert' on bra sizing once, I round the corner to the lingerie department feeling confident in my size (which I won't share here because it's pathetically small). Let's just say that when I was younger (before I could hold a pencil under my breasts), I whispered to a sales clerk in the lingerie department, "Pssst...do you have this bra size 36A?" She then yelled across the floor, "LOUISE, WE DON'T CARRY THE PUSH-UP IN A 36A, DO WE? THIS LADY NEEDS ONE." Lingerie shopping can be emotionally difficult.
So, Sal and I came around the corner and Jeeeeesus! I felt like I was from the country Teensyweensystan and this was my first trip to the United States of Plethora!! There was a full acre of nothing BUT bras and panties, racks and stacks on tables, hanging from fake bosoms and piled up wall shelves! Sal and I stopped in our tracks and said, "Holy CRAP, how in the hell are we going to find what we want? Where do we start? Will there by ANYone who can help us, who can hear us or even know that we're here?" It was embarrassing. I mean, you don't have to show a woman 436 bras and 3002 panties when she's just looking for one or even two. It's tooooooo much! And, by the way, why do they call them pairs of panties? I understand the 'pairs of socks' because there are two of them, but 'pairs of panties?' Oh well, that's another blog.
But, the really fun thing is that as I looked at each sytle of bra and matching panty, my mind took me to some pretty delicious fantasies right there in the store. I mean, my 30-year-old mind that's attached to my 56-year-old body. When we finally found the granny panty section (or 'step-ins' as our BFF, Pam calls them...she's from Louisiana, Che), we just looked at each other and dropped our heads in sadness. We knew we were going to buy them because they're comfortable and stay in place and cover over flabby parts, but it was depressing and not a single fantasy came to mind.
To compensate for my sadness, I did purchase a push-up bra, however. The bra pushes them together alright, but it also pushes together the looser skin in between them, creating crevasses and arroyos of skin that look a bit like the end of a glacier that's melting. No matter! I want cleavage, and if I'm somewhere with the proper lighting, it will work.
I can't believe I write about this stuff as a single woman. You think any self-respecting perfect man who accidentally reads this stuff would come within ten MILES of me?? Hehehe...my answer can only be a delusional HELL YES!
Yes, yes, it was awesome, inspiring and daunting to be in that huge field of bras and panties. Pairs of panties...pairs of scissors...those make as much sense as, "Hey! Give me a pair of that night gown."
We got a normal sales woman for which I was grateful. She knew where everything was, took things in her stride and had good stories about transvestites looking for fake butt cheeks. She kept her department in tip/top shape. All bra cups were facing the same direction and all panty crotches faced discreetly in.
I can't try on panties. The sales lady, lets call her Juanita, assured me that women try on panties over the ones they came in with but I don't trust that. I know how women are and they lie. I'm sure there have been many who decide at the last minute to pick up some needed step-ins and upon discovering that they wore no underwear that day, decided to go ahead and try some on. After all, everybody else tried them on over their own so there is no worry about germs and stuff. Guess who is the next person to try on those panties that touched somebody else's vujayjay? You guessed it, me. I just know it. And so I buy my size and then wash them as soon as I get home and hope they fit. It's kinda like sharing the last bite of pie-a-la-mode. I don't know about you but I don't like to eat a bite that somebody else's used spoon got slathered in.
Maybe I am anal (pun intended) about this but I don't even want to try on a bra that some other woman squashed her boobs into. Boobs hang down over your torso and if it's hot like it gets in Austin then you know that there is some sweat going on up in there. The whole thing is just gross and scary and I am traumatized by going to the lingerie store.