My least favourite thing to do:
It's an exercise in frustration. I had to go to four stores today. FOUR.
The problem is that I am fairly generously endowed in that area, but I've lost enough weight that my old bras don't fit. I used to buy my bras at the fat lady store, but now my band size is smaller than they sell, so I have to go to regular sized stores, only they don't usually carry large enough cup sizes.
And, so I went from store to store, and chiselled away at my body image with each attempt.
Somehow, I ended up in a change room across from a woman with exactly the same problem. Sad to say, we bonded over excessive boobage. Luckily, we both hit pay dirt with a sales woman who not only knew her stuff, she knew the inventory. Even then, we were there for over an hour, as we tried on bra after bra and tossed them over the change room doors to swap back and forth. Finally, as we were both about to give up, we came upon the miracle bra. Not the one that pushes your boobs up to your chin - this one holds everything where it belongs and fits properly while miraculously not looking like something my granny would wear.
We each bought three.
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