Sunday, October 26, 2008

Modesty is hiding somewhere else

I'd like to know when the powers that be decided to let men start designing bras.

Yes Victoria, I'm talking to you.

I recently walked into one of those stores for the first time in years (that's not the only place to buy unmentionables, after all) because I was really at my wit's end with my favorite nude-colored bra and decided to bite the bullet and invest in another.

The last time I was in a Victoria's Secret store, it was adorned in soft shades of cream and pink and gold and there were nice ladies around to help you find whatever it is you were looking to purchase and "fit" you for a bra, (which is a nice way of saying feel you up) to measure what size bra you needed. I remembered buying said item at the Victoria's Secret of my youth because my mom had just seen an episode of Oprah that highlighted the fact that somewhere around 80-90% of women were walking around wearing the incorrect bra size.

Much to my horror and embarrassment, while I was getting "fitted" for a new bra with some lady and her measuring tape, my phone rang. It was in my purse, which was with my mother, right outside the dressing room. Bra Measuring Tape Lady opened the door while modesty was pushed to unknown limits, and my mom handed me the phone. It was my friends KR and AG calling to tell me the sorority they had pledged at OU.

I went into a VS with a friend a few months ago, and I remembered how taken-aback we both were with the racy framed pictures they had on the staircase. Were we in the wrong store? Had we absentmindedly walked into a burlesque show? When I walked into Victoria's Secret a few days ago, I was shocked at the transformation. It looked more like a (non)-gentleman's nightclub, with black and white and lace everywhere, than a store where women go to buy bras. Gone were the soft hues and sweet saleswomen- they have been replaced by blaring Britney Spears and gum-smacking teenage girls.

On the phone the whole time, I found the "updated" version of my bra and left, not wanting to try it on and just needing to get out of there. There was also a little pouch of extras which I didn't understand and I did not want to mess with it. When I got home, I tried it on, adjusted the straps and put on a shirt to see if it looked okay. Something looked off, so I changed again into my old bra to inspect. You know what they did? They added a layer of built-in padding, and not JUST padding, but also removable gel/water inserts. I won't get specific, but I'll go ahead and say that my cup size does not necessitate extra "help".

So why the heck do I feel like I'm bound to pull a sofa cushion out of my top at any moment?

Did it ever occur to anyone that people would have to wear these in real life? One that does not include Gisele in mood-lighting and Very Sexy commercials? I have to go to work; I am a professional! My v-neck sweaters have been demoted to the back of the closet, because I can't go out in public without layers and a turtleneck covering my upper half.

For the love.

"It reveals nothing and suggests everything."
-Choderlos de Laclos, Les Liaisons Dangereuses

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