Of all the type of shopping in the whole wide world, bra shopping is just a nightmare for me. I dread having to shop for one or a few. It’s just the sheer agony of having to pick the one I like, and then having to queue and try them on one by one. (and lord knows how much time these women like to hog the fitting rooms for hours on end, just like they hog the toilet cubicles each time they have to pee). The thing with bras is that every single type and design fits you (in this case, me) differently. Every design is cut differently and therefore, the sizes might vary. What is size say B in one design or brand could be an A or C in others. Don’t ask me why, it’s just the way it is, and how I have found out while trying to look for a decent one here.
So while I’m sure that I’m such and such a size, somehow, when I shop for bras in Thailand, the sizes would throw me off balance, and very much dependent on the style and brands. Hence, there is no way of knowing if they fit well unless you try every single one of them. That’s why, for the life of me, I cannot stand shopping for brassieres. It takes hours just to find one decent fit which is:
a) one that I (or the husband) like
b) fits very well
c) and not ridiculously priced.
For me, I would try and delay to shop for one for as long as possible. I usually make sure that I invest in a few good ones that last me over several years. I don’t know how other people do it, but it really is something I have yet to find an enjoyment and patience for. Every time I know it’s a replacement time, a dark cloud seems to loom over my head…and I would reluctantly acknowledge the fact that I need one and drag my ass to the department store, hoping I don’t have to come back for several more years.
Today might be one of those days again, a constant nagging at the back of my head since last week's aftermath. For now, I'm thinking I just might loon for a little bit more before it becomes dire.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
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