Boys who read this have been duly warned that they're going to feel uncomfortable/bored.
I mentioned a while ago that Victoria's Secret employs cottonheaded ninnymugginses who do a terrible job at fitting one for a bra, correct? One of the admins at John's work used to be a lingerie consultant at Nordstrom, the exact kind of lady you want fitting you. A little older, confident, and knows the product backwards and front, like Uncle Rico would want. So he asked her for me where would be a good spot to go to fix my problemas grandes--which I bet was not at all an awkward conversation--and she said the Nordstrom in Fashion Place Mall was the shiznit. So when Troy offered to babysit today (I told you she was sweet and nice, even though I tease her--see how I bite the hand that tends my kids?) I motated on down to the big city and the abysmal den of cognitive dissonance that is the mall.
I used the bathroom while I was there, and here's what I loved about it, do not be alarmed:





Then I went to Nordstrom, got a PROPER fitting by a PROPERLY TRAINED person, and it's true, I was wearing too big of a band and too small of a cup, just like Oprah or Stacey London or whoever says everyone does. And now I am happy and there is not slipping or sliding or bunching or chafing. Ta-da! So if you're in need of some shapewear, you know what to do. My girl's name was Brandy, and she knows from bras.
Also John came to help pick out a new mattress for our bed, since ours is SUCKY and WANTS US TO HAVE HUNCHBACKS, and while we were there we saw an eleven-year old girl dressed like a Bratz doll with her mom who was dressed like an aged Bratz doll. And pretty much every youth I saw was a different variety of Trying Too Hard. Bleh. If it weren'f for the all-you-can-smell coffee odor I'd never go to the mall ever ever.
And I bought some cheetah-print leggings to go under my brown skirt and John will shake his head in dismay and say tsk tsk and make rude eighties- and Madonna-related remarks. But I had to tell him to stop wearing pleated Silvertabs when we got married, so I am the fashion mayor of our house in perpetuity.
3 comments:
Hate the MALL oh, so much! Thankfully the best place to go, moved out of the mall. Or I could take my new SIL on up on her offer to be fitted but I found it a little too intimate with someone I barely knew, BUT would know for the rest of my life (God willing). (ACK, she'd know all my secrets.) Odd I know, I'd rather have a complete stranger measure and push around my Cha-cha's.
My kids are watching me read your blog -- because, apparently they never leave my side nowadays. And, they are laughing their heads off that you posted pictures of a bathroom! So glad you are feeling better. And, I have more to say, but now that little one is screaming. Loving these posts anyways :-).
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