BEWARE BEFORE YOU READ: This post is intended for my lady readers. Men, feel free to keep reading if you want to have some real talk about bras. Otherwise I'll see you next week. You've been warned.
Yesterday there was a big Advertising Halloween party at an editing house. It was great! Free beer, free fun, loud music…OH, and once again I ended up on my soapbox about getting a bra fitting at Nordstrom in the middle of the crowded dance floor.
I am shocked—SHOCKED—that I have had this blog for almost an entire year and I have yet to write a post about bra fittings.
Here is the nub and gist of it: if you have only gotten a bra fitting at Victoria’s secret, dusted off your hands and called it a day, YOU ARE WEARING THE WRONG SIZE BRA. I will put money down on that fact to ANY of you.
Here is how I know:
Every SINGLE person who I know (and I know at least six off the top of my head) that thought they were wearing the right size according to Victoria and then went to Nordstom, found out that they were TWO whole cup-sizes bigger. And every person, once wearing the new Nordstrom bra, felt better, perkier, more holstered, and more comfortable than they ever had before.
And of course, me included.
I have known people to go in thinking they were an “unattractive” (and I use those quotes EMPHATICALLY) 36A their entire young lives, to come out finding they’re a lovely, enviable 36C. I have known people to go in thinking they were a droopy awkward 36D to come out finding they actually feel slimmer and more comfortable in their 32F.
Nothing makes me sadder than someone who looks like they feel awkward in their own boobs. Except maybe someone who laments that they’re an A when even I can now take one look at them and guarantee them that they’re bigger.
Oprah did a whole show and has online info on bra fittings, and guess who sponsored the whole thing? NORDSTROM.
GO. TO. NORDSTROM. OPRAH SAYS SO.
And don't even give me the "I don't WANT to be 2 sizes bigger!" excuse. Because trust me, you do. You will once you feel what a difference it makes in the way you feel and walk and stand.
And speaking of big boobs--It annoys me GREATLY that people think enormous boobs are DDs. I remember a crass frat boy telling a story and saying "they were the biggest boobs I've ever seen in real life. They were like DOUBLE Ds, dude." Guess what. If they were the biggest boobs you've ever seen in real life? She was at least an H (That's five Ds). I guarantee that you see double Ds every day of your life. But because most stores, including VS, only go as high as DD, everyone assumes that's the biggest anyone could be, and anything higher would be a freak show. And anyone who is bigger is not told by the VS people that she is actually too big to fit their bras. She is simply given the wrong size and sent on her merry way, jiggling uncomfortably down the street. It's no wonder 8 out of 10 women are wearing the wrong size bra. These people have probably been fitted by Victoria.
And even if you go and find out Victoria’s Secret was right (there’s a first for everything, I suppose), I have another reason you should get your bras from Nordstrom: they have the best return policy in the whole wide world.
Here’s a fun little story for you. Walk with me, won’t you?
A few years ago, I bought a bra from Nordstrom that didn’t fit me right (I tried sizing myself without help. I was wrong.) But I didn’t realize that until I’d worn it for an entire 90 degree day. As you can guess, things got a little sweaty up in here. Well I didn’t want to be The Girl Who Returned a Bra With Sweat Stains, so I washed it. Then I realized that I needed to dry it quickly so I could get to Nordstrom before they closed. But they say not to throw it in the dryer. So what did I do?
That’s right, I used a blow dryer. Face, I’d like to introduce you to Palm. You should be friends.
I noticed that the place I was blow drying was becoming a different color. I thought it was just the water drying. I kept going. Then I stopped. I looked harder. Oh yes. I had MELTED MY BRA. My bra that I needed to exchange for a different size.
I think I screamed. I definitely cried. And since my mom was at work, my poor dad had to be the one to try and console his hysterical daughter cradling a half-wet, half-melted bra in her hands. But he told me I should still try to exchange it.
So I did.
I walked up to the girl at the lingerie register, gave her the short version of the story, and (at this point I was basically on my knees with my clenched, entwined hands raised above my head in desperation) asked if there was any way she could exchange this one with a different size.
The girl, who was probably about my age, gave me a look like I cannot BELIEVE I am about to do this for you and said, “What size do you need?”
And that, my friends, is why you HAVE to go to Nordstrom. RIGHT. NOW. You HAVE to.
Please get a fitting. Even if you are old enough to remember Gandhi. DO IT. If you can go to Oak Brook, ask for Faye. She’ll help a sister out. If you have to go to the one downtown Chicago, then that’s probably better than nothing, but the suburban Nordstroms are best. Hopefully for those reading outside of the Chicagoland area, your Nordstrom is good, too. If not, hop on the next train and get over here. I am not exaggerating when I say that it will change your life.
Or at least it’ll change the way you fill out a dress.