Mommy Karma & Bra Shopping

After a week of dealing with a sick child, karma has rewarded me. Today I got to do something I haven’t done in a while. Something that I have been wanting to do, something I have been needing to do, and something that isn’t easy to do.

I went shopping, at the mall, sans baby and husband.

About two weeks ago my last work bra (yes, I have only one bra to wear to work) gave me its resignation notice via an exposed underwire poking me in the armpit. While I was hoping for two weeks notice, I found myself needing a new bra right away.

Today I finally got to shop for a new bra. For the past two weeks, I’ve endured the poking. I’ve pushed the wire back in, I’ve put duct tape over the hole in an attempt to hold it in, and sometimes I sat leaning to the left to spare my armpit the viscous jab of the wire. I simply haven’t had the time or the available babysitting to venture out for a new bra.

Bra buying takes time. First, you must try on a bra before buying it. It’s not something that you can pick off the rack and buy. Some aren’t sized properly. On some, the straps are too wide, others have the straps too narrow. Some have the underwire come up too far, some have far too much padding.

Men would never be able to handle wearing bras, because they’d never have the patience to try them all on.

Second, there are a gazillion different styles, all with their quirks, and all fitting just a little different. Demi cup? Full coverage? Padding? Front or back hook? Lace? Satin? Lace and satin? Halter strap? Strapless? Backless? Long line?

It’s not a wait that a toddler, even a patient toddler, can easily endure. And my little strong-willed monster darling certainly wouldn’t have the patience to sit through a marathon visit to the dressing room. I wouldn’t even be able to offer her fun colors – I’m simply looking for a neutral colored bra.

If Aaron came along, Cordy would naturally choose the moment I’m ready to try on bras to have a seismic meltdown with daddy and push him to the point of pressuring me to hurry up so we can leave. Too much stress.

Today the stars aligned, and Aaron found himself with an empty afternoon, so I took my chance and ran to the mall. Even though it’s snotsicle cold outside, I happily parked in the back of the crowded lot and walked into the mall, unburdened by a stroller, a diaper bag, or a tempestuous child.

Victoria’s Secret is my bra shop of choice. I hate how expensive they are, but they do generally last longer and fit better than anything I could find in JC Penney. I haven’t been in Victoria’s Secret in a long time, but at first glance it appeared that little has changed. Lots of pink everywhere. Lingerie I couldn’t even think of squeezing my behind into. Sales girls dressed in black wearing far too much makeup and far too pretty to make me feel comfortable.

However, they have taken a new sales direction since the last time I was in. I’m used to being asked if I need any help at first, telling them no, and continuing on my way in peace. Oh no, now that’s just not allowed. I was pestered all over the damn store: Have you seen our new bra? (Yes, it’s hard to miss here in the front of the store.) Here, take a shopping bag while you look around! (I’m just looking for a bra.) Can I measure you to see what size you are? (No thanks, I really don’t want you touching me there.) You really must try our new bra! (No, you really must leave me alone.) What can I help you find? (The exit? Someplace I won’t be bothered?)

After running the gauntlet of sales girls, I managed to snag four bras and hide in a dressing room. Yes, I did try the new bra, and I wasn’t impressed. I just wanted a bra like my old one. Of course, with the product changing entirely every 6 months, my bra was no longer made.

I found one bra similar to my old one (“It’s the new and improved version!” “What does it do? Wash itself?”) and was content. I considered buying two, but at $45 a bra, I decided I’m going to settle for one and work this one just as hard as the last one. The peppy girl at the register tried to persuade me to purchase something from their “Pink” line in order to get a free stuffed puppy, but I quickly informed her that I am a mommy, and do not want to see another stuffed animal in my house at this time.

Walking out into the mall general area again, I browsed a few stores before leaving. I saw several moms out shopping with their kids, many of whom were asleep in the stroller. I wanted to ask them what they drugged their kids with to make them sleep in the stroller, because Cordelia would never entertain the thought of sleeping while out and about.

In all, it was a successful outing, and one thing off my to-do list. Now if I can only find the time to get out for a facial and a massage. Maybe in another 6 months.