Visit to the Queen's Corsetiers
What a nice week I've had.
On Tuesday I flew down to London to meet up with Jane. We had planned to go to an exhibition on Fashion and Architecture but ended up sitting gossiping over lunch for hours instead. We did manage to fit in a visit to Rigby and Peller, Bra shop par excellence, and corsetiere to the Queen, no less. (She wasn't there buying bras on Tuesday dissapointingly. Now that would have been a good story)
Normally my bra shopping expeditions are not of any particular note, it has to be said, but a visit to Rigby and Peller is an experience every woman should treat themsemves to. The shop assistant measures you by eye. Esentially you stand in front of the mirror while the assistant looks at your boobs. Then she scurries off to a vast array of wooden drawers and pulls out a selection of bras in your size.
They say that 80% of women wear the wrong size and I was no exception. Apparently my back size was too big, (so it was riding up at the back) and my cup size was too small. The amazing thing was she took a quick look, and the bras she brought back for me fitted perfectly. Now that's a skill worth having!
Our conversation went something like this:
Lady: So, what are you looking for today?
Me: Erm. I need a new Bra... I suppose and normal everyday bra? nothing too fancy.
Lady: OK. Now what shape do you like?
Me: (Slightly embarrassed) Well... I like them to be like this (grab my boobs and push them together and upwards) I don't like it when they are wider than my body, you know, like Ann Widdicome.
Lady: (Smiling) Right, we call that Forward.
Me: Forward, yes, sounds good.
Lady brings back a selction of bras. Holds one out for me to put my arms through the straps. I grab the wires to hoik myself in.
Lady: No no, just lean forwards and let your breast fall into the cups gently.
Me: (Smirking)
Lady: I'm just going to adjust you now... (Sticks her hand inside the bra, hoists up my boobs and repositions the wires. My boobs are now defying gravity.)
I then try on a series of ever more fantastically supportive garments, each time being gently admonished by the assistant for not letting my breasts 'fall gently into the cups.'
In the end I bought a fiendishly expensive 'primadona' bra. I am wearing it today and feel totally at the mercy of it's sturdy straps and all encomapssing embrace. It's a nice feeling. And not one bit of boob is escaping Ann Widdicome style out to the side. Oh no - It's all forward and out there, like a pair of headlights on full beam.
Jane overheard the conversation in the next changing room, and it went like this:
Assistant: (in a gentle tone)You really should try wearing you breasts higher.
Customer: (after trying on the bra) My word! I've never seen my breats so high!
On Wednesday I went to the Chelsea Flower Show with my Mum (the actual purpose for my trip to London) But more about that another day, I have to get back to work.
On Tuesday I flew down to London to meet up with Jane. We had planned to go to an exhibition on Fashion and Architecture but ended up sitting gossiping over lunch for hours instead. We did manage to fit in a visit to Rigby and Peller, Bra shop par excellence, and corsetiere to the Queen, no less. (She wasn't there buying bras on Tuesday dissapointingly. Now that would have been a good story)
Normally my bra shopping expeditions are not of any particular note, it has to be said, but a visit to Rigby and Peller is an experience every woman should treat themsemves to. The shop assistant measures you by eye. Esentially you stand in front of the mirror while the assistant looks at your boobs. Then she scurries off to a vast array of wooden drawers and pulls out a selection of bras in your size.
They say that 80% of women wear the wrong size and I was no exception. Apparently my back size was too big, (so it was riding up at the back) and my cup size was too small. The amazing thing was she took a quick look, and the bras she brought back for me fitted perfectly. Now that's a skill worth having!
Our conversation went something like this:
Lady: So, what are you looking for today?
Me: Erm. I need a new Bra... I suppose and normal everyday bra? nothing too fancy.
Lady: OK. Now what shape do you like?
Me: (Slightly embarrassed) Well... I like them to be like this (grab my boobs and push them together and upwards) I don't like it when they are wider than my body, you know, like Ann Widdicome.
Lady: (Smiling) Right, we call that Forward.
Me: Forward, yes, sounds good.
Lady brings back a selction of bras. Holds one out for me to put my arms through the straps. I grab the wires to hoik myself in.
Lady: No no, just lean forwards and let your breast fall into the cups gently.
Me: (Smirking)
Lady: I'm just going to adjust you now... (Sticks her hand inside the bra, hoists up my boobs and repositions the wires. My boobs are now defying gravity.)
I then try on a series of ever more fantastically supportive garments, each time being gently admonished by the assistant for not letting my breasts 'fall gently into the cups.'
In the end I bought a fiendishly expensive 'primadona' bra. I am wearing it today and feel totally at the mercy of it's sturdy straps and all encomapssing embrace. It's a nice feeling. And not one bit of boob is escaping Ann Widdicome style out to the side. Oh no - It's all forward and out there, like a pair of headlights on full beam.
Jane overheard the conversation in the next changing room, and it went like this:
Assistant: (in a gentle tone)You really should try wearing you breasts higher.
Customer: (after trying on the bra) My word! I've never seen my breats so high!
On Wednesday I went to the Chelsea Flower Show with my Mum (the actual purpose for my trip to London) But more about that another day, I have to get back to work.
posted by Rach at 12:42
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