So then…she says, “Maybe black lace? Or something colorful? Purple?”
“I don’t know – maybe,” I respond. “But I do need a whole new wardrobe of unmentionables. It’s been so long since I’ve been bra and panty shopping – mine are falling apart!”
“Yeah,” says Melissa. “But I hate bra shopping. Such a pain.”
We’re in our 20s with fairly slim figures, but shopping for bras or swimsuits are always the worst excursions, regardless of your age or size. Too many options — and it’s a hassle to keep squeezing into tight garments for the right fit.
We walk the few short blocks from our Park Avenue office to the Lord & Taylor department store on Fifth Avenue and 39th. It’s a lovely store and soon we are knee-deep (tits-deep?) in bras of every shape, color, and size.
Melissa only needs a couple items, but my shopping bag is packed with several bras and even more panties. I’m stunned by the total cost. Why is it — the less the fabric, the higher the price?
We have just enough time to zip into the pizza place on the corner before returning to the office.
We order our slices and sodas at the counter, then join the throngs crammed together into the little tables and chairs. I pop up a couple times for napkins and soda refills.
When we’re done, I reach beneath the table for my Lord & Taylor shopping bag.
We look everywhere but it’s clearly been nicked while we were eating.
Not only did I spend a sizeable chunk of this week’s pay on the aforementioned unmentionables – but I wasted an hour trying on a million bras to find the exact right fit in a variety of styles and colors.
“I can’t believe I didn’t even notice anyone stealing my shopping bag! How could I not see someone walking off with it?” I ask.
Melissa says, “It’s New York! We’re all squished in here — plus there are bag ladies coming in and out of this place all the time. One of them probably just picked it up and added it to her other bags and kept walking.”
A bag lady?
This distresses me even more. At least a professional thief-junkie would return the undergarments to the store with the receipt — and get cash back for some crack or smack.
But a bag lady would probably just wear the expensive bras on the outside of her flak jacket – and my new red lace panties on her head.
From that point forward, as I’m walking in the city, I’m on high alert look-out for my bras and panties in case I see any of them gracing the outerwear of the city’s bag ladies – with price tags still attached.
I picture myself doling out dollars amongst the street dwellers, seeking intel: “Psst hey, have you seen anyone sporting a scoop neckline lavender lace bra with reinforced straps? How about zebra design panties with a black side bow? No? OK, keep your eyes open, doll. I’m on a mission here.”
— Darcy Perdu
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(Do you detest bra/panty/swimsuit shopping as much as I do? Ever have something stolen right out from under you? Any New York City stories? I love to read your comments!)