A friend and I went shopping in the mall-mecca of the Broadway Plaza in Walnut Creek last week. Both of us are in the midst of death-by-boredom fashion crises. Tyla because she has two kids, a new body and no time, me because I am over 40 (just barely), work at home, and no longer shop for entertainment. Envision a world of fleece, jeans and clogs, and you will know our pain. So Tyla's husband Vincent thoughtfully arranged a shopping date as a sort of Christmas present for Ty, and I was glad to be the escort.
Since it was raining, we couldn't spend too much time strolling the faux-downtown mall district, rather we focused on a few stores, mainly Nordstrom.
It's hard to get a handle on some of the new shapes out there, like short, boxy jackets that end at the waist and make you look sort of like a paper doll. I've seen them worn in cute ways, but with my linebacker shoulders and short waist, they seem to emphasize the fact that I look more like a cereal box than a supermodel. And jeans! I don't know where people get the super-dark-wash, slightly faded in the front, make your butt look great and eliminate muffin-top jeans, but I think it's a secret store with a peep-hole and a password, because I can't find it.
While cruising for camisoles in the lingerie department, we inquired as to whether they had a bra-fitting specialist on duty, and since they did, we had ourselves measured. I didn't really intend to shop for bras, but while I was waiting for Tyla outside the lingerie fitting room, I figured what the heck. She sounded like she was having fun. I felt like the bra I had on was comfortable and looked smooth under shirts, so I thought I had done a pretty good job. Wrong. There are signs in the dressing rooms that say "8 out of 10 women are wearing the wrong bra." We were two of those eight.
Here's how bra-fitting works: If you are unsure of your bra size, they will measure you. The young lady doing the fitting checked out the bra I was wearing and it appeared to be the right size around (I'm not sure what this is called-- the band size?) She asked what size I was currently wearing, which I told her but I am not going to tell you. Then she brought in a "fitting bra" which is a soft-cup, semi-sheer bra (Wacoal was the brand) that is in the size she thinks you need. It was not so flattering. Lots of seams. Industrial strength, with sheer fabric and flowers so you don't forget you're a girl, I guess. If you fill the cup, then that's the size you are. I was shocked to find out that I was a cup size larger than I thought I was. Or thought I would ever be. We are not a naturally large-busted family, for the most part.
So, once your size is determined, she brings you an armload of bras: wide-set straps, demi-cup, full coverage, semi-sheer, patterns, colors, you name it, and at least one "t-shirt" bra, that is, a beige one that is lightly padded, not to add size, but to be more, um, discreet. All of these bras are in your "real" size, in my case, my new, larger size. And darnit if they didn't all fit, so I started to believe that she was indeed right. After I got over the shock.
The one I ended up taking home was made by Natori, and it did look far better under my crummy white t-shirt than the one I had on, both in the front and in the back. Tyla liked her new bra (same style as mine) so much better that she threw the one she had on in the garbage and wore the new one home. Hope she doesn't mind me telling you that. We were so thrilled that we thanked the sweet salesgirl over and over and sashayed out with our new purchases, pleased that we were now the two women out of ten who did have the right size bras.
A word about Nordstrom here: Their customer service is legendary among customer service trainers and book writers. While I've been at a few Nordie's stores that were staffed with some of the same raised-by-wolves, no-eye-contact teenagers as the rest of the stores in the mall, overall, they are definitely better. In some Macy's, for example, I can walk around for five minutes with something in my hand to try on, searching for someone to let me into a dressing room. In the shoe department at Macy's in Santa Rosa Plaza, by the time one of the leaners gets around to asking me if I'd like to try the shoe I've been carrying around, I feel like saying, "No thanks, I just wanted to see how heavy it was for a while." In Nordstrom, someone generally acknowledges me as soon as I enter their department. I really appreciate feeling welcome and cared for when I shop. I like Macy's; I grew up with a Macy's so I'm more familiar with it. I just wish they'd get their service training act together, as it varies so much from store to store.
On this day, we chose to have lunch at Nordstrom's cafe inside the store. I'll go on with my bra shopping story, but I do want to point out several things that they did right: 1) When the line was a few people long--just enough that you might decide it was too long and walk away, someone came out and said hello and handed out menus to all the people waiting in line. This not only sped up the decision making process at the counter, it made us feel included and got us thinking about all of the things we might be hungry for. 2) At the counter, one order-taker was floating between the window and the line, making eye-contact and helping where needed. 3) When we paid and turned around to find a place to sit, there was someone there to welcome and assist us. I think she even said "make yourselves comfortable". The service was fast, the food was fairly healthy, fresh and hot, and we were grateful that it was convenient and good. We tipped well, we felt good about the store, and we spent our lunch money in the store rather than going elsewhere. Same thing with the bras: because there was a fitting service, we were happy to spend more money at Nordstrom.
So, all in all, it was a good shopping day. We were careful not to tire ourselves, even though we tried each and every thing on. When in doubt, we did not take the item home. A couple of cheap impulse buys at H&M slipped through for me in the frenzy, but nothing major.
When I got home, I showed my new bra to Mike, who heartily agreed that it was the right size and looked better under the t-shirt. It felt a bit itchy, in a new-clothes sort of way, so I tossed in the cold water wash on delicate and hung it to dry.
The next day, I wore my new bra to work. It looked so much better under my t-shirt and fleece. A few hours into the day, I realized that my new bra was still itchy in the middle, and not only that, the underwires were poking me in the armpits when I sat down or slouched. Great posture therapy, I suppose, but it made for a maddening workday. By the end of the day I was distracted and cranky, and when I got home, I undressed and was out of the bra as soon as I walked through the door.
So now what? Bra is washed and worn once. Cup is the right size, underwires are too tall. Natori is not a cheap brand. I'm still pretty sure Nordstrom would take it back. They are, as in everything else, very customer oriented about returns. I feel slightly discouraged that I didn't spot the itchy places early-- bras are like shoes, I suppose, in that if they pinch or poke or itch somewhere, you won't wear them in. I no longer have the patience I did in my 20's to "break in" sexy, lacy bras with itchy spots. I don't know why they don't line all pretty lace bras with soft t-shirt material. Ok, I know why, but the point is, I don't have the patience anymore. So I guess it's back to the store again. Unfortunately, I probably won't be going back to Walnut Creek anytime soon. I just know that sweet bra fitter would sympathize and know just the low-profile underwire bra for me. So I'll have to brave the bra fitting wilds again on my own and hope for the best.
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