Unmentionables

One of the last items on my list to do b4 the wedding was to buy bridal underwear. I found a shop which specialises in bridal corsettry all the way in Wentworthville. I ask Rod to drive me there as the trains were not running that weekend. We made the mistake of taking the Paramatta Highway which is chock a block every weekend and it takes us over an hour to get to our destination. As with all long car trips, I start to feel drowsy(which is unfair to Rod who does all the driving) so for his sake, I pretend to stay awake by sleeping with my eyes open. This, I achieve by rolling my pupils back into my eye sockets. Does it really work? No, not really and after a feeble attempt to appear awake, I'm fast asleep and wake up sheepishly when Rod pulls into park at the Wentworthville town centre.

The shop looks pretty unassuming, but when I walk in, I realise its a very different underwear shopping experience. I'm told to wait for a vacant changeroom. All four changerooms are occupied and every customer has a personal shop assistant who does all the running around in the shop and gives the customer thier personal attention and advice on fitting. Usually when I buy underwear, its a fairly uncomplicated operation, I know my size and its a quick in and out for me, but these ladies take thier time and the assistants are very obliging and helpful. They aren't too fussed with trying to get a high turnover in the rooms hence I was in for a rather long wait. I didn't intend to spy but with nothing else to do, I notice the four women in the changerooms are all very large women. The bra sizes the shop assisantant are carting around look gigantuan and would fit my whole head and then some (I don't say that to be crude but that was really what I was thinking at that moment because I found the sizes so gobsmackingly huge! And even though I was in the land of indian takeaway and hot chips, I was bemused to find not just one obese woman in the store but 4??? ....and they weren't related either). No wonder they took so long because the fit and support had to be perfect. I think it would be terrible to feel so weighed down all the time and small breasted women the worldover should be thankful. and another thing, the assistant and customer aren't modest either. There is alot of boob baring, pulling, shifting and lifting them puppies into place in order to find the perfect fit. I'm reminded of those two British stylemakers 'Trinny and Susannah' . I watch thier show with open mouth horror at the audiacity of these two women who go around grabbing British women's ample bosoms and butt cheeks in shopping malls and telling them to love thier curves and jiggle bits.

When it comes my turn, the girl asked me for my size. Now I don't know if by juxtaposition with her last customer, I appear positively anorexic but when I tell her, she looks at me in disbelief and says "Nooooo, you're at least a size ten!"

"Darl, that's sweet but I haven't been a size ten since high school and even then just barely!" I thought.

We agree to try a size 12 and she runs off and bring me the corsett and belive it or not, the darn thing is too big. Damn these girls are good. The size ten fits perfectly and I fully understand the allure of the pinched waistline. Dita von Teese eat your heart out. Unfortunelaly the ribbing of the corset shows through my gown which is a very light silk. In the end I settle for those dubious adhesive chicken fillets and alot of Hollywood tape. Perhaps I should complete the look with some grandma knickers.