I had my bra sized measured today in one of the single most stressful things I’ve ever experienced…the Christmas sales on Oxford Street.
It was so stressful, I sternly raised my voice several times, audibly huffed at indulgent passers by (who weren’t excepting any other presences in their existences, my volume was to help them hear) and queued with a row of middle aged women, who whinged about the queue, for 40mins to try on two bras, neither of which I purchased.
I think one of the most annoying things to find in a ladies lingerie department of a store, are husbands / boyfriends buying underwear for their partners. Now I realise that not all men in this situation are like this but in this store, all of them were in the way. The reasons are:
A) they have no idea what the fuck they are doing and therefore stand around, in the way, gawping at underwear B) Are massively indecisive, take ages because they fear upsetting their women (most likely again.) This one large older man, (pictured below),
decided to rest his large body amongst the bras I needed and wanted and refused to hear me ask him to get up, three times until I raised my voice and shouted ‘OI GET OUT MY WAY.’
(What? Was he sleeping?)
But after all of this stress and turmoil, I had The Girls measured for the first time and I found out from the very flirty bra measuring lady that I am a 38 E instead of a 38 D.
I have massive boobs and I never even knew.
Jayde 1, Christmas Sales 0