A Brief Note On Underthings

So, I’ve decided I need a bra.

Actually, scratch that. I need several of them. The only bra I have is the one I’m wearing, and there’s a hole in it. Also, it’s a bit… well, not red any more.

Anyway. This morning, I had some time to kill in town, so I hovered into La Senza, thinking that they might have a good bra or two at a decent price. I hovered in with the same naive optimism that one hovers into a Topshop with, thinking that somehow (magically) everything will fit and be cheap and people will be nice and the atmosphere will be one of shopping joy.

Like bollocks it is.

Shopping for any kind of clothing still fills me with dread (albeit for different, more cash-related reasons these days) but to me there is nothing more dreadful about clothes than shopping for underwear. And when I saw all the different types of knickers available at this store, I wanted to give up, go home and walk about with no clothes on. Or commando, at least.

Bikini. Brazilian. G-string. Hipster. No-show. Thongs. Boy shorts. Oh my God, I just want pants! I just want a nice pair of pants that won’t ride up my arse! And for that matter, I’d like a nice bra as well. I don’t give a toss whether it’s a balconette, lightly lined or multi-way.

I didn’t end up with a bra. What I did end up with was the sense that I could have been worrying about more important things today.

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