One of my best friends, Trish, is getting married in a couple months. Today I went to try on the bridesmaid dress she picked out for the bridesmaids. Seeing I turn 30 tomorrow, I have been a little cranky.
I walked into the store and told the lady I was there to try on a dress for a wedding. She asked for the last name, looked up the dress and then asked my size. I gave her my regular size, and she then did one of those quick body scans with her eyes.
With her finger pressed against her chin, she then looked me in the eye and said “Well, our dresses fit a bit smaller, so I’d go a size up if I were you.” I gave her a proverbial ‘eff you’ which, of course, was a giant smile. Seriously- WHO SAYS THAT?
I stomped into the dressing room and tried the dress on and it zipped. Aside from my armpit fat that was exploding out (a feature I was born with…) it looked fine. The manager then tells me she wants to have the alterations lady take a look at it because it looks, and I quote: “a bit big up top.” She comes out, starts poking me in the boobs and says: ‘Awhhh you’re so cute… They’re empty!!’ As she pokes the cups of the dress that hold the boobs up. I said ‘Yes. Yes, I realize that.” At this point I didn’t even care. I was just happy I fit in the ‘our dresses fit a bit smaller’ dress.
Dear Everyone: If a woman tells you her size– especially the day before her 30th birthday– never, ever, under any circumstance tell her that she should try on a bigger size. Let her squeeze her ass and all it’s glory into the size she wants to be! And! I don’t need an alterations lady to tell me I have no boobs. I KNOW THAT. K.THANKS.BYE.
Ashley OUT.
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