I love to shop.
I love pretty clothes.
Pretty Shoes. Pretty Bags. Boots. Scarves. Hats.
And coming home with a new white shirt is never a surprise. Sometimes Don Barley, smart-ass that he is (oh yes, I love him but he is a smart-ass), will say, "Oh, look. A new white shirt. 52 white shirts is just never enough." (For the record, I do not have 52 white shirts). Although, as you may have gathered, I pass by few white shirts that I don't fall in love with. Cotton. Silk. Linen. What looks nicer with jeans, pants or leggings than a white shirt?
( oh, yes, I'm partial to a guy wearing a white shirt with nice fitting jeans also. Indeed.)
So. Yes.
Donald Barley has a few white shirts in his closet also.
Speaking of jeans.
We all know how hard it is to find the perfect pair of jeans. It always has been.
It's a royal and major pain.
Finding a style you like that fits the way you want in the right size should not be so difficult!
And I always worry that when I go into the fitting room with 12 pairs of jeans in different styles by different designers in different sizes, the lady in charge of fitting rooms is going to think I'm a sneak thief!
Well, actually, no, I don't think that at all.
Usually, the fitting room lady is more than sympathetic having been through this same scenario many times herself.
So.
Yesterday I went shopping.
Not for jeans.
I did that a few months ago and found jeans I loved so I bought 3 pairs of them. Isn't that what everyone does?? Don't you just have to do that?
No. Yesterday I went shopping for new bras.
LordAMercy.
Lord
A
Mercy
Same as shopping for jeans.
First I looked for a bra I liked the looks of.
Then I grabbed that bra in several different sizes.
Several.
Let me tell you.
It should NOT be this difficult.
And it's exhausting!
That bra I liked and tried on in several different sizes?
No. Nope. Nada. Ugh. Nothing! Not a one of them fit properly.
I got dressed. Put those bras back on their flimsy little hangers with the straps woven through those dumb little teeny narrow slits at the top of the dumb plastic hanger and took them back to the floor.
Found another bra I liked the looks of and grabbed it in several different sizes.
But this time I was a little smarter and looked for yet another bra I liked the looks of and grabbed it in several different sizes also.
I walked into the fitting room with more bras than I am going to admit to here.
I found one bra that fit well. In a size that just does not sound like "my" bra size.
That's okay. I don't care what size it is.
I am not questioning it.
It's perfect.
I once again put those damn bras that didn't fit back onto those stupid plastic flimsy-as-all-get-out hangers with that absurd little thingie that I had to put the strap through and over (I only broke 3, I think) and returned them to the floor.
Then I looked for more bras exactly like the one I liked so I could buy them all. In every color.
Because.
The next time I need to buy bras, THAT bra will have been discontinued.
Guaranteed.
But.
There were no more bras like it.
None.
Not in white, nude, black, red, purple, pink or polka dot. Not in zebra, or leopard, or giraffe print.
I came "this" close to just sitting down in the floor and crying.
Instead, I got tickled and the sales associate got tickled. After a good laugh she offered to see if there were more in the warehouse. And there were. Hooray!!!! Three of them. I don't even remember asking what color they were. Who cares! The only good thing about this experience (besides the good laugh) is that she told me they were on sale - "Buy one, get one free!" YeeHaw!
Four new bras. For the price of two - wheeeee!!! Who doesn't love a bargain?!
I considered, at this point, shopping for a new bathing suit.
But.
As I said, I was exhausted.
So I did what a lot of smart women would do.
I came home and had a glass of wine.
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