Number phobia

Posted on: March 25, 2010

As most of you know, I work in retail. I interact with hundreds of women weekly attempting to help them find the perfect fitting jeans and/or bras (depending on what part of the sales floor I land on that day). And the one thing I hate most, above screaming children, getting bitched at for not letting an expired coupon be used or not letting a shirt that’s CLEARLY been worn and washed about 187 times be returned… is this.

People buying the wrong size.  

I don’t care if you’re a size 2 or a size 22, you look terrible in the wrong size jeans. But some folks REALLY just don’t get that. Buying a size two when you’re really a four will not make you any thinner. In fact, it’ll make you more of a baker because you’ll have muffin top all over the place. I’ve seen girls refuse to buy a certain pair of jeans just because the size that fit them was larger than what they thought they should be wearing. Ladies, please. Suck it up, get some self-esteem, put on your big girl panties (even if they’re a bigger size) and buy whatever fits you. Ya look a hot mess otherwise.

Now… bras. I know, they’re a bitch to buy, but totally necessary if you don’t want black eyes while you run on the treadmill or if you want to look acceptable in any decent clothing. And I think it’s more important to get bra size right than jeans. You should only have two boobs, ladies (no loaves or bakers’ dozens!)  so don’t whine and complain that the bra that fits you is a 36D and you’ve been cramming those girls into a 36B for the last two years.  As with jeans, I see girls leave the bra store empty-handed because “nothing fits.”  I call BS.  Unless you are even more “gifted” than I, there is a bra that fits you in just about any store that sells the things, you just won’t wear it because of the number/letter on the tag.  WHO CARES!!  Not me.  Not your boyfriend.  Not your girlfriends.  Not your best friend’s neighbor’s cousin.  And if they do,

Two is enough, pleaseandthanks

that’s creepy.

Ok, and now that I’ve ranted enough for the day, here’s how you figure out which bra size you should be buying.  I even watched a really awkward looking very informative video about it today at work!

1.  Get a tape measure.

2.  Measure yourself just under the bust, where the bra band goes.  Add 4 if it’s an even number, add 5 if it’s odd.

3.  Ta-da!  That’s your band size.

4.  Measure yourself around the fullest part of you.  Take that number and subtract the number you added 4 or 5 two in step two.

5.  The difference is your cup size.  1 inch = A  2 inches = B … 26 inches = Z (do they make those?)

6.  For the love of all things holy, accept whatever size you just measured and buy the right one!!!!

If you don’t feel like measuring yourself, you can try to figure out your size by using the wrong current one you’re wearing.

– If the band rides up the back, go down a band size, your current one is two big

– If the straps dig in, loosen them (duh), or go up a band size.

– If the under wire digs in, it won’t give you cancer (people actually think this is true!!)  but go up a cup size

– If your cups runneth over, go up a size

– If your cups runneth under, go down a size

So does anyone else suffer from number phobia, or know someone who does?


2 Responses to "Number phobia"

Ummm, ok. I need a 46B. DO you have one of those? LMAO! I am totally kidding. I HATE retail. I have worked it for many years and am doing everything in my power to not get back into it. It is amazing the crap people try to pull. And the more money they have, the cheaper they are.

Yes, I can tell you tucked the tags in and wore it to a party, but yes I HAVE to take it back. What’s the one thing worse than that? A District Manager that makes you go against the return policy to make the customer happy. Thanks boss for making me look like an A-hole, when I was just doing what the handbook said. Why have a return policy if you are not going to stick to it?

Ok, enough ranting from me….

Hee hee sounds like my job. It holds a special place in my heart because that’s where I met my boyfriend, but retail really does suck!

And please tell me you measured yourself just now!

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