Separation and Lift......

My best friend, Patsy, is going through a rough patch. She was laid off a few months ago for the second time in four years. She has two job interviews this week. One is this afternoon and one is tomorrow morning.

Her daughter, Bec, and I took her shopping on Saturday so she could get a few new things to wear. She has lost a lot of weight, and is looking pretty good for the poster child of the unemployed. (In fact, maybe too damned good.)

Her daughter's greatest desire was to get her into a new bra. Her theory is that it's crazy to work so hard to lose all that weight, and get new clothes that fit, and then drape them over those sad, sad boobs that, shall we say, have been looking less than perky lately, since she has lost weight, and the elastic in her old bras has herniated. Not to mention, they no longer fit her new body.

Bec wanted those "girls" to salute the sun, and she was holding onto a dream about separation and lift. Yep! For weeks now, Bec has been going up to Patsy, and grabbing the straps of her bra, and hoisting those 'beauties' up, and exclaiming, "See, see how much better they would look if you got a new bra that fits properly." Hence, our trip to Victoria's Secret on Saturday, and Bec's and my ensuing amusement at the expense of Patsy's humiliation.

A young girl (my judgment would peg her for about 16 years old) measured Patsy for a new bra. (Patsy and I are on the far side of 50, and our boobs are on the far side of....well, you get the picture) The sales girl spoke with a Valley Girl accent, with every sentence ending as if it were a question. She had an earphone in her ear, I'm pretty sure she was channeling, Moon Zappa. Like, she was like a total space cadet .......for sure. For sure, she was, like totally. Her eyes were encircled with thick, black eye liner around the inside of the lids. You could see the whites of her eyes all the way around, or so it seemed. Her mouth was pouty and and her teeth were white, white. She was rail thin (in that 'still in the bud' kind of way) with two perky, aah say perky, boobs.

I wish you could have been there. This is how it went.

Bec: My mother needs a new bra. We're interested in the Ipex Full Coverage.

Valley Girl: *slightly blank look on her face* Ohhh, Okay???

Bec: *trying to get the show on the road* She needs to be measured.

Valley Girl: Ohhh, Okaaay???? *Pulling the tape measurer from around her neck* What size do you wear now?????

Patsy: *with as much dignity as she could muster* I wear a 38 D.

Valley Girl: OKaaaay??

At this point she wraps the tape measurer around Patsy's body, just under her boobs and cinches it in. This forces Patsy's boobs over the tape measure, and makes them bulge until they look like two water balloons. (All of this is done in the middle of the store, not in a private room)
She then accidentally drops one end of the tape measurer, thus begins the process over again. Poor Patsy. She then gets Patsy's arm tangled up in the tape measurer. Now Patsy is making every attempt to get it out. It was too comical. Bec, and I just look at one another, trying not to dissolve into laughter. After all, we had gotten her this far, we didn't want to screw it up.

Valley Girl: *with pride* You know, I look at breast all day, and I can just tell what size you should be by looking at you??????

(At this declaration, Bec and I just turn and give each other yet another look, no words, no laughter, the look says it all, but it's so unfair....we should be allowed to laugh.....we really should.)

Patsy: *slightly baffled* Uh huh.

*The Valley Girl once again starts the measuring process over*

Valley Girl: Well, you know, it's hard to get a true measurement because you're not wearing a bra.

Patsy, Bec and Me: *in unison and with slight annoyance* She's wearing a bra!

I mean, it's one thing for us to ridicule her pitiful, old bra, but not some 16 year old airhead Valley Girl. That's just not right.

Finally the whole, ugly mess ended and she escorted us to a dressing room, and gave Patsy a container of Ipex bras to try on. She then vaporized, and we never saw her again. Bec found more bras and we gave them to Patsy. We went into the dressing room, and turned our heads to the corner while she tried them on, and then we checked them out, giving our opinions freely. We finally selected one we were more than satisfied with . As you can imagine, this took a while, but the result was totally worth it. It made, 'like', a world of difference. She was lifted and separated, and the 'girls' hadn't looked so good since the 60s. It was a sight to behold. I wish you all could have seen it.

Bec explained to the girl at the register that we were looking for new clothes for Patsy, and asked if she could wear the bra out of the store. She said it was fine, and cut the tags off of it for her. Patsy went back to the fitting room and put it on. As she walked out of the store, with her new boobies saluting the sun, as perky as you please, all the sales girls paid homage to her bodacious beauties by applauding.

.............and so, as Bec had maintained all along, separation and lift made all the difference........

The End