Sunday 13th September
Never did one imagine that she was wearing the wrong bra size – I am lingerie queen… I mean darling they’re my nearest and most dearest assets – the voluptuous, fibrous and fatty tissue humps sit right in front of my heart. Alas, all this time Chelfie Mackintosh has been mistaken… I am (apparently) a B cup… A minute, teeny freaking weeny B cup…
Darling please let me tell you how this revelation came about…
So I arranged to meet one of my girlfriends for a Sunday brunch date – I took a cab all the way into Liverpool…to be stood up.
On my fine lonesome, I paraded through Liverpool One shopping centre slightly miffed until a cheeky sign caught my eye “Free Knickers With Matching Bra” hats off to Boux Avenue’s marketing team… You bloody geniuses… I looked into the glass window, directly in-front of the manakin, my head was on a slim beige plastic body wearing a beautiful royal blue two piece… I walked (very fast paced, possibly a slight run) into the store.
A gorgeous and super glamorous “scouser” greeted me with a beaming smile as soon as I stepped my designer shoes in Boux Avenue store, the immediate recognition with a smile was very pleasant and came at a surprise.
“Hi how are you today? Why don’t you let us measure you and give you a free bra fitting today?”
My instinct, as always, was to politely refuse as I know my bra size and I don’t want a lady with cold hands touching my torso or seeing my assets… actually…as I began to think in the millisecond, I had not had a bra fitting in years and I had time since I was… stood up.
“Yes absolutely, jolly good, that would be marvellous”
The lovely scouse girl escorted me through the store into the changing rooms – I did not fully examine the intimate apparel as I was being escorted through the store. I did manage to grab two beautiful sets of lingerie, however they never made it on *sob sob*
I was passed over into the caring hands of Vanessa – Vanessa was wearing yellow patent dolly pumps which made one feel uneasy
“Take your top off and go in there, leave your bra on though… I’m Vanessa”
Righty-o, sure thing Vanessa. Demanding, firm and stern – I’ll do as she says, I hope I interpreted her correctly. I did exactly as she said. I removed my blouse and stood in trousers and a bra. Vanessa knocked once and entered the changing room, she asked what bra size I thought I was… I presumed 32C – Vanessa let out a howl
“You’ve never been a C cup chicken”
Hold your horses… Did Vanessa really just refer to me as a domestic fowl kept only for its eggs or meat?
After my tape measure examination, I took my 30 B bra measurement card and flounced out. Without free panties!