I went to the mall the other day. Talk about an exercise in self-control...
It was time to shop for undergarments. Again. I had gone bra-shopping a month ago, anticipating an easy trip. My plan was to duck into Victoria's Secret, grab their two-for-one deal (only $20 for two bras!), and duck out. I had already checked out the different bra styles online and knew what I wanted. Being the successful boycotter I was, I had also emailed the company to find out where their bras were made. Everything was falling into place beautifully!
I walked into the mall and found myself right next to Victoria's Secret (complements of my husband, who wowed me with a new mall parking garage that I had never known existed!). The problems began in the fitting room. "Oh, the Pink bras are for developing girls," said the sales girl. "You'll probably have to go up a size or two." Gee, so I was going to have to bring home a size D cup because I wasn't a "developing girl?" Ugh. After trying on what seemed like a kazillion bras (in case you're missing the sarcasm here, I loathe trying on bras. I believe bras and jeans belong in the same category of shopping difficulty), I happened to glance at a tag. "Made in China." Brilliant. But the email I got said they're made in Sri Lanka, NOT China, I said to myself. Despair was starting to kick in. I began pulling out tags like a mad woman. And would you believe it, there were three different countries of origin for one brand of bra. Go with me on a limb here - all of the bras in my size were made in China.
It was at that point that my supposedly quick shopping trip turned into a nightmare. I met Drew outside the store and, in a shell shocked tone of voice, relayed my findings. He followed me from store to store to store, as I attempted to find one, beige, 34B that was NOT made in China. I went home, empty handed and depressed. Drew rose to the occasion magnificently, attempting to revive me from the depths of despair. You have to understand that the last thing any red-blooded male wants to go is go bra shopping. Not only was Drew there, bra shopping with me, but he was trying to cheer me up!
A beige bra is a necessity for me in the summer. If you were to peer into Giedre's closet, you'd find a lot of black. Take a peek into mine and you'll see loads of white. I wear white in the summer. But not without a beige bra I don't...
So that brings us to today. Or rather, this past Friday. I strode into Belks, remembering that I had found a $30, non-Chinese bra there a month ago. The last thing I wanted to do was drop that much money on a bra. But desperate times DO call for desperate measures. My walk slowed as I saw all the signs with "$20" posted on them. My heart thumped loudly once, twice, in my chest. "Kalabunga," I whispered to myself, "I'm SAVED!"
Of course, the really cute bras with the silver, sparkly doodads were m.i.c. I was not going to lose hope, however, and scavenged every rack until I found a few to try on. This time, I came home with a bra. While Belk did not believe in stretching $20 to cover two bras, I think this new one will do quite nicely.
This is Max, the model cat.