I hate shopping...again.
I'm sorry to rail against the retail industry in yet another post, but I spent yesterday afternoon shopping for swimming suits and bras. Need I say more?
I guess I'll just never get used to shopping in the "mom" section. What's the mom section, you ask? Well, it's that special place in every clothing department designed for women who've had babies and thus value coverage and support — two things that apparently are in direct conflict with cuteness. It's where swimming suits have obnoxious jungle prints and wide, clingy skirts. It's where the bras come in only beige or brown and have straps an inch wide. It's that section you used to see as a teenager and think, "Who on earth would buy that ugly crap?"
I gave up on the swimming suit quest almost immediately. I just wasn’t in a good enough mood to put up with it. I had nearly surrendered my bra quest, too, when I reached Nordstrom intimates. They have great fitters (the gals who measure and manhandle you) and a fairly decent selection of cute bras in a variety of sizes. Oh, and my fitter asked how old I was because she thought I was a teenage mother. Maybe I should have been offended. It made my day.
(Who plans to post about our earlier summer adventures this week. I have to get caught up before we leave for our next vacation this Saturday!)
5 weeks ago