One day, several years ago, my sister and I decided to go bra shopping for her. She never could find a bra that she liked. We spent three+ hours in the “intimates” department picking out pretty bras, utilitarian bras, lacy bras, and plain bras. She would hang out in the fitting room and I would bring in different sizes, colors, and styles. She would try them on and we would both laugh hysterically. Very quickly the fitting room was filled with rejects.
After many false starts, we settled on 3 bras that she felt were just right. The final picks were not too big, not too small, but just right. It was a bit of a goldilocks moment. We selected a few pairs of underwear to match and called it good. I was exhausted and she was quiet.
About a week later, I asked Sandy how the new bras were working out. She got quiet again and wouldn’t make eye contact. She finally confessed. The Monday after our intense shopping excursion, she had returned all the purchases we had made and continued to wear her old, worn-out bra. I couldn’t believe my ears.
I have always wanted to have a professional bra fitting, however, after my escapade with Sandy, I think it can wait.
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