A boob-related story I wish to share...
Once upon a time, I went to Victoria’s Secret to see if I could find something that did not, in fact, make my boobs look hilariously large. Upon selecting my targets and entering the changeroom area, I was asked if I wanted to be measured. I thought, sure, why not?
She measured me at a 36C. Now, I knew this was incorrect because I own a couple of 36C bras. These bras are both too small in the cup and too big in the band; nip-slip hazards as well as the back riding up to my shoulderblades. Needless to say, these bras sit unworn in my closet.
I explained this to the lady, and she was like, “Just try it anyway,” with a “you totally don’t know what you’re talking about” gleam in her eyes. So, I tried on her precious 36C, and exactly what I said would happen, happened. Band rode up, boobs busted out of the cups. ”Try a 34D,” she advised.
Well, herp-de-derp, lady, I thought. That’s my size anyway.
Tried 34D. Boobs still busting out of cups. ”Try a 34DD,” she suggested.
Tried 34DD. Proper fit. Great, I thought, the boobies have grown.
So, to recap: the VS lady measured me at a 36C. Actual size? 34DD.
Moral of the story: Victoria’s Secret is so very pretty, but so very suckish.