So I finally got around to going back to The Town Shop, the legendary lingerie store on the Upper West Side that I had visited earlier but quickly made my escape out of fear of being felt up by a biddie (not to mention because of the ridiculous wait and the madding crowd). I got over my modesty, I guess, and realized (as several people posted here) that — well, quite simply — you have to suffer for fashion.
The other day, I left work early and decided to stop in. It was, after all, 4:30 in the afternoon on a rainy weekday. How bad could this be? Well, when I went up to the counter I was told I had to put my name on the list. What is this, TGI Friday’s?
I was then told there were just two women ahead of me, but there was nowhere to sit. So instead of hanging just outside the curtained fitting rooms, I walked around the cramped store and waited for my name to be called. Some 20 minutes later I wandered back to the fitting area, and there were suddenly two ladies I hadn’t seen before perched there. Hmmm. The woman who took my name happened to walk by and seemed startled to see me still waiting. She grabbed another saleswoman and ordered her to help me.
Well then. As I nervously walked toward the fitting room, I wondered about the protocol. Was I supposed to just whip off my top so the saleswoman (no biddie, I should add) could measure me (up)? Were we going to have a heart-to-heart about my bra-buying habits? As it turns out, neither happened. The saleswoman followed me in, and behind the velveteen curtain, she just stood there for an uncomfortable moment. “Uh….” I started. I explained I wanted a white, very lightly padded bra. She responded that they didn’t have many white bras — and then proceeded to ask me why I didn’t just wear a nude-colored bra instead. Hello? What else was I going to say? “Wellll… because I want a white bra?”
Not a good start. Nor did she measure me. She asked what size I wore, and I told her. She gave me a glance-over but still didn’t measure me. And I was wearing a loose tunic that day!
She came back with a white bra made by the Oprah-approved company Le Mystere — oh thank ye gods! — but it had far more padding than what I’d told her wanted. I dutifully tried it on, but it wasn’t what I wanted. So she brought in a new, thinly padded but nude bra. I tried it on even though, like I’d said, I wanted a white bra — and when she came back in I asked her if she thought I needed a different size. She barely glanced at me before delivering her verdict: “Nah.”
The fit and style were all right… but I still wanted to buy a white bra. She told me she could order the same style for me. “In white?” I asked, hopeful. Her response: “No, doesn’t come in white.”
Frankly it didn’t seem like she really wanted the sale, so I thanked her for her time (however valuable that is) and headed for the door empty-handed, into the rain.
Dare I say it? Another bust!
Technorati Tags: lingerie shopping, bras, Town Shop
