The Bra Incicdent
Alright, so I love the thrift store, we all know this. I was there looking for a purse and maybe a skirt when I passed the ever hilarious underwear rack. Now, I'm not one to browse the under-garments at the thrift store, but a bra caught my eye. As we all know, when you have giant cans, bras are expensive. This beige 36DD Victoria Secret Full Coverage bra was like screaming at me. Those things are like $45. I glanced it over and it looked pretty new. The tag was still crisp and clean and the price tag said $2.00. I sheepishly tossed it in my cart, under a $3 skirt and a $2 purse and went on my merry way.
I got home and tossed it with some other clothes to be washed on the floor of my room.
Cut to this morning. I'm putting together and outfit and my stupid blue bra is looking crazy through my shirt. I remember the bra on the floor and grab it and pull it on. It seems to fit well and I throw my shirt on and head out the door.
A few hours into work, I'm getting uncomfortable. I feel like the straps are a little too tight. I fidget with it, but can't seem to adjust them. I give up.
By 2:30 it's really starting to dig in on the back of my right arm and I'm in pain and assuming a rash of some sort is forming from the rubbing. I give up and head for the restroom. Once in the stall, I do what I gotta do and start tearing my clothes off. Once I get the damn thing off, I can't believe what I'm looking at. The previous owner must not have worn the bra much because it didn't fit her. She then tried to make it fit her- by sewing the strap adjusters in the tightest position possible. They were totally locked in place with stitches all around them.
What the hell was I going to do? I was locked in the bathroom holding my bra which I couldn't bare the idea of putting back on as is... I had no keys or my box knife or anything on me because I was wearing a damn skirt.
I considered my options. And then I did what I had to do.
There I was, in a bathroom stall, topless, ripping stitches out of a used bra... with my teeth. Not my proudest moment.
But guess what? NO REGRETS.
That shit actually fits right now and I still got a sweet bra for $2.
But seriously, never again.
I got home and tossed it with some other clothes to be washed on the floor of my room.
Cut to this morning. I'm putting together and outfit and my stupid blue bra is looking crazy through my shirt. I remember the bra on the floor and grab it and pull it on. It seems to fit well and I throw my shirt on and head out the door.
A few hours into work, I'm getting uncomfortable. I feel like the straps are a little too tight. I fidget with it, but can't seem to adjust them. I give up.
By 2:30 it's really starting to dig in on the back of my right arm and I'm in pain and assuming a rash of some sort is forming from the rubbing. I give up and head for the restroom. Once in the stall, I do what I gotta do and start tearing my clothes off. Once I get the damn thing off, I can't believe what I'm looking at. The previous owner must not have worn the bra much because it didn't fit her. She then tried to make it fit her- by sewing the strap adjusters in the tightest position possible. They were totally locked in place with stitches all around them.
What the hell was I going to do? I was locked in the bathroom holding my bra which I couldn't bare the idea of putting back on as is... I had no keys or my box knife or anything on me because I was wearing a damn skirt.
I considered my options. And then I did what I had to do.
There I was, in a bathroom stall, topless, ripping stitches out of a used bra... with my teeth. Not my proudest moment.
But guess what? NO REGRETS.
That shit actually fits right now and I still got a sweet bra for $2.
But seriously, never again.