Wednesday, May 30, 2007

6 questions - never ask them again!!!

1. What is your most popular bra? What is your best bra?

Just stop asking. There are hundreds of bras on my lingerie floor. I will find the “best” for you. It is individual. Don’t run out to buy the best selling bra or anything for that matter. My favorite bra is DKNY’s convertible cotton bras. I have three of them. The price is in the mid $30s. The comfort level is quite high. But is this bra the best for you? I’m a big 32C/small 32D. My breast tissue for the moment is firm and perky (please St. Boob don’t let them drop ever).

Each person’s breast is unique to that person. You must remember that size matters but so does individual shape. You may be in your proper size bra but the shape of the bra and your breasts play a huge part in the “best bra”. If you and your best friend are both 34Ds, then you have good size breasts. But it does not mean one bit that you should be wearing the same bra. Even if she were a different size and she swore on her grandmother’s grave that “this is the most amazing bra”, don’t run out and buy it in your size. Ladies, remember, some of us are perky and round, some of us are set wide and droopy. There are various ways one’s breasts hang or don’t hang. So, don’t buy the same bra as your best friend, unless you have tried it on.

2. Do you have cheaper bras?

This question only pertains when you are at Target or Kmart. There’s nothing wrong with a cheap price good quality bra. Trust me I’ve swung by Ross and Marshalls for lingerie before. You can’t beat a good deal. When you enter a major department that sells perfume for $150 and shirts for $1000 then all bets are off. Please expect to pay at least $60 for a good bra at department stores that start with N, S, or B. Calvin Klein and DKNY are cheaper lines. Most of their products start at $35. Sometimes, these stores will have sales, sometimes. But don’t come see me and be perplexed at a La Perla bra for $170 (that’s a cheap La Perla). I know not everyone has even $35 to shell out (I know I don’t) for a foundation garment. Please write your lingerie manufacturers and complain to them for price gauging. There is nothing I can do. But seriously, save some cash and find one good bra that lifts your spirits. Don’t be cheap when it comes to your boobs! An expensive bra is cheaper than breast augmentation.

3. Does this fit me?

Okay, you may ask me this once and that’s it. Does it fit? What do you think? If your breasts are high and mighty, then yes. If your breasts are inside the cups and there is no sign of double bubble cleavage, then it fits. If you raise your arms and your breasts don’t cascade down to your stomach, then it fits. If you don’t have breasts under your armpits, then it fits. Ladies, it really isn’t hard, relax and breathe. Bra shopping may feel like a sport but it’s just shopping. Remember we like shopping!

4. I can’t be a DD. Can I?

Actually, you can, naturally too. I have a few friends who are natural 34DDDs. It happens to some of us. Please don’t question me on my bra fitting knowledge. If I tell you that you’re a 36G, then it’s the truth. I only benefit when I size you properly. Making you an enormous cup size is not my wish. Own what you got, ladies, own it! And for those who really own it because it was bought, stop asking, “Can I?” Yes, they’re huge! A petite woman with my size breasts could be a 30DD, don’t be astonished. Many augmented ladies come in and insist that their surgeons made them a “C”. Au contraire, surgeons are not bra fitters. They size you according to your body and your needs. I’ve had little suburban housewives with full on boob jobs leave the store with a look of dismay. I shot their bra size down, in most cases, shot them up.

“Ma’am, you’re a 32DD.”

“I can’t be, can I? No way. Strippers have DDs.”

Not all of strippers have DDs, some are pint size As. I've seen!

There’s nothing wrong with a boob job. There’s nothing wrong with DDs either. Strippers are people too so don’t use them as an example for big boobs gone wild. Real or fake, own what you got.

5. Do you have a good push-up bra?

Again, stop asking me this question. Half of my ladies dread the word push-up. My other half doesn’t understand the push-up bra and constantly ask for it. In my eyes the push-up bra has two different purposes. One: to naturally push up what you have without the exaggerated cleavage. Two: to unnaturally push OUT every ounce of breast tissue you have. Most of us want the first type but expect the second. It’s quite bizarre.

If you have big breasts then the bra has to work overtime just to hold them up. The “push” really isn’t going to work for you. The extra side padding will only bump you up slightly. It may make you look a tad fuller. Do not be disappointed that your breasts are not racked high and shelf-like.

Most push-up bras sold in department stores are subtle enhancements that are not meant to be seen outside your blouse. That’s type one push-up.

Type two push is for music videos, Vegas clubs, or hot unadulterated sex.

6. Do you have full briefs?

The only thing brief about briefs is the name. It is the panty with the fullest amount of fabric. I abhor them. Granny panties, oy, oy, oy. When this question is asked I want to run for the nearest exit. Why do you want to cover your entire stomach with a panty? Even high waist panties need to remain below the belly button. There is no benefit to full briefs. I will find the scientific proof! Full briefs are an atrocity to the modern lingerie industry. I was so excited when our store sent away our briefs. There should have been a parade that day. Granny panties are not sexy. Granny panties are not any more comfortable. You’re actually wearing more fabric. And you’re more likely to get a wedgie than someone wearing low-rise panties, less to pull! Granny panties do not hide your fat (so don’t use that reason). Granny panties do not make you more conservative. One customer described herself as religious and conservative, thus, only she could only wear briefs. If you were truly pious, then no one should be looking at your undies to begin with. God will not judge you if you have a thong or a hipster on. So, burn your briefs, don’t be sad that we don’t carry them, and stop asking me for them!

Lady K.

VPL Defender.

Years ago, in NYC, a co-worker freaked out that I had VPL.

"Oh my Gawd, you have VPL, gross."

She made it sound like a disease I caught overseas while swimming in dung. Well, it's not, most of the ladies know VPL as "visible panty lines". I am guilty and damn stinkin' proud of it. Underwear lines exist. Thongs were a solution back then. I didn't wear thongs back then. So, that was not my answer. I just didn't care. I said to myself, "I rather see panty lines on myself and everyone else." Because many "everyone else"s have large rippled, cottage cheese, asses. I rather see panty lines then uncovered cheese. Oy, Oy, Oy. Skinny chicks, fat chicks, cottage ass affects all types of women. Panty line saves. If you have a fat wobbly jiggly non-muscular ass, trust me, no one is looking at your ass anyway. Wear damn panties. Wear boxers.

I wear thongs now on occasion but still defend the VPL. I think it's sexy to see lines if you have the right panty on - cheeky boyshorts, brazilian cut, low-risers.

But if you wear a thong, low-rise it all the way, unless you wear "mom jeans", you are not allowed to buy high-rise thongs.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

You Should Read This. (I mean, I think you should read this...or should you?)

If one thing drives me crazy, it is the women who are unable to contain the inner monologue in the head. These are the women that are impossible for me to escape because, while they are really having a conversation with themselves, they are doing so in a way that makes it appear as though they are talking to me. Generally when this happens, I make a variety of noises (mmm… mmm hmm?) to sound vaguely disinterested, so that the customer might allow me to escape.

Incidentally, the aforementioned women also happen to be the most indecisive ladies on the planet.

The other day I encountered indecisive customer, Sarah (see disclaimer).

Sarah was in her late forties, sporting a uniform of black, with her dark hair twisted into a severe-looking bun. She explained to me that she was on the hunt for undies that were cotton, not high-rise but not exactly low-rise. I escorted her to the section of the department where I believed we would find this very thing, and presented a pair of my personal favorites.

“But, these are so thick. I mean, don’t you think they are awfully thick?

“No problem, we have others. How about this? I held up a cotton DKNY panty.

“Let me see… oh, this says five percent spandex… I don’t know… my skin is extremely sensitive… I mean, I had really hoped to find a pair that was one hundred percent cotton… I guess it might be ok, but I just really didn’t want to settle…”

The one-sided conversation continued as she shot down the Wacol (Too granny-like) and Calvin Klein (too young-looking) panties.

Sensing that this woman was going to be difficult to please I waved in the general direction to my right and said,

“Well, we have a great selection of panties that you can find in those two bunkers*. I’m sure you will find something there!”

“Will you just show me? I mean, I don’t know which ones to look for, exactly.”

“Sure!” I forced a bright smile.

I pulled a nice cotton Cosabella bikini from a nearby tree*. She appeared interested.

“Well, I guess these might work. Let’s see… how much are they? Twenty one dollars?? For a pair of underwear?? No, no way. I am only going to buy one, but wow, that is way too much”

If I were not already annoyed and discouraged, this would have done it. Not only was I sucked into helping the neediest customer in the entire department, but it was now confirmed that the entire production would result in a purchase of one pair of panties, totaling no more that $20. Bear in mind, I work on commission.

I ushered her to the Felina section und yanked a panty off the rounder*.

“How about this?”

“Well… that seems like it rides awfully low… but then, the other one was just about that low I suppose… although…”

It was at this point when, inevitably, the department began to flood with customers. It was a whirlwind of bras, panties, and credit cards as my fellow sales associates rushed after customers and swooped up sales. There I stood, trapped in the eye of the hurricane with Mrs. Indecisive, who had finally stopped talking and was staring at me expectantly.

Having tuned out well over five minutes prior, I had absolutely no idea why.

“Will they shrink? Or do you think they will be ok?”

“They will be fine. They are perfect.”

“Really? Or are you just saying that?”

At that point yes, I was just saying that so she would buy the freaking underwear.

“Alright, I’ll take them.”

Thank god.

I lead her to the cluttered cash wrap, the only remaining evidence of the recently busy, now vacant department.

“You know what, nevermind, forget it,” she told me, shaking her head. “I think I will just stick to the ones I have at home. Is that ok? I mean, thanks for your help... you've been so helpful"

I grit my teeth and forced one final smile.

"No problem. Happy to help!!"

- E

* Trees, bunkers, and rounders are all devices that hold bras/panties/shapewear/etc.


All names that we use on this blog are FAKE. i.e. Lavonne (see Spanx blog) is not actually named Lavonne. At least I don't think so... I never actually asked.

We will not disclose where we work, either.

Happy reading! :)

To the Point of No Return

Under very few circumstances is it actually ok to return underwear. Let’s say your boyfriend bought you a very expensive La Perla set: bra sized 32A and thong sized small. Let’s say you wear a 38DDD and thong sized XL. You have not worn the merchandise, the tags are still attached, and you have the receipt. Fine, return it.

Please, ladies, DO NOT return merchandise that you have clearly worn to death. Not only is it absolutely disgusting for Lady K and I to deal with your stretched out, nasty, sometimes soiled garments, but we are equally shocked by your lack of embarrassment and shame while returning them.

It is horrifying how many of you are guilty of this.

The following is a very typical situation:

A lady enters the department, barreling directly toward the cash wrap. Already, she is in full- blown defensive mode.

“I have a problem,” she whines. “I bought this bra here... and I wore it a couple of times but then the strangest thing happened…”

She then reaches into her crumpled bag to produce what I assume must be the bra but instead appears to be a dingy dishrag with adjustable straps.

“SEE??” she exclaims, pointing to a shard of silver poking through the raw remains of fabric. The wire is poking through! Is that supposed to happen??

Of COURSE that is not supposed to happen, if you recently purchased the bra and really only wore it A FEW times. But if, in fact, you purchased the bra in 1990 and have worn it each consecutive day since, the poor bra has HAD ENOUGH. It is DEAD. It can no longer withstand the weight of your saggy boobs. It has given up.

Replace the freaking bra- and I don’t mean by returning it to my department for a new one. I mean by throwing the haggard bra away and BUYING A NEW ONE.

And when I tell you that, unfortunately, we cannot return your bra, DO NOT GET ANGRY WITH ME. Don’t yell at me, cause a scene, or threaten to write to our corporate office. Lady K and I will be happy to get you into a nice, clean new bra after we properly dispose of your disgusting one.


Beauty pagents.

Just watched Miss Universe.
Miss Mexico and Korea - very suspect fake boobs. huge gaps between breasts.
Very disappointing to see - these girls were all born in the 1980s. Some are 19. And they have breast implants? At 19, I was still growing.

What are we telling our youth? Tall, skinny, luscious locks = beauty?

God bless, Miss Tanzania for rocking the baldy.

What do breasts and bikinis have to do with "being a role model" and "doing charity"? Answer that question next year contestants.

And how did Dave Navarro get to be a judge?


We sell sex.

In every OB-GYN and pediatrician office, there's a wall dedicated to baby pictures, little wittle cute babies. These babies were conceived with the care of many physicians. The lingerie department should have such a wall.

I think the true reason for conception starts with your friendly lingerielady. Face it, we make babies in the lingerie department.

Women come to us to enhance their figures by lifting their breasts up. Men look at breasts. Bingo! There's physical attraction. Next thing you know - they have sex. They have baby.

Women come to us to buy "sexy" lingerie. We find them the daintiest and laciest piece of doily called the thong. We assure our custy that everything they're buying is hot as hell and sexier than sex itself. Men like little thongs because it's easily pealed off or rippable. Trust me, men don't care if it's pink or black or polka dot. Thong is off! Again, we have sex, I mean, they have sex. They have baby.

Men come to us for a gift consultation. Do you think I'm gonna give them an ankle length nightgown? Hell yes!!! If it's sheer!!! Men like see-thru stuff. It's not always about black bra and panty set -- lame-O; it's too easy and available. Be creative, men. See-thru nightie is hot. Nipples show right through. Men love nipples. Once more, sex happens. BAM! Baby!

The lingerie department is like a sex generating machine and baby factory. Some customers just have sex. Some customers have sex and babies. It's optional - the baby.

I'd be a rich lady if I got $5 for every baby made because of me. Richer if I got $5 for each and every time sex occurred because of the products I've sold.

Give us the credit we are due. Give us a baby picture wall.

We keep it hot and sexy. Remember that.

Sex. Sex. Sex.


Monday, May 28, 2007

Healthy Hands

Being a lingerielady isn't as glamourous as you may think. I touch people spiritually and physically on a daily basis. To keep our sanity intact, we must wash our hands frequently. The ladies try to wash after each and every bra fitting. If the custy isn't as sweaty as we thought, we will speed wash with antibacterial hand sanitizer. We always have buckets of that stuff and hand lotion around. But I prefer to go to our cosmetics department and La Mer my hands (the best lotion available to woman)

Our hands are always dry as Death Valley in the heat of summer. I think I've washed my fingertips down to a flat surface. If there is love for your lingerielady, then buy us hand lotion.

Touching people freaks me out. But at least I know what I'm touching. Working in retail made me realized that the dirtiest thing anyone can touch in daily life is : MONEY. MONEY. MO' MONEY.

Public restrooms aren't as bad as they seem. Most people do wash their hands, at least with water.

Money is goddamn gross. I love it when it's in the form of an ATM card.

Why money?

A long, long time ago, last fall, my best buddy rolled into town for a weekend of adventure which included a nudey club. I'm not into chicks but I went for the hell of it. And there, I realized where money could have come from. Yeah, some dollars were in her g-string or her top. Did I mention it was an all-nude club? Let's just say, some of the strippers snatched up their dollars.

Wash your hands. Keep them healthy.

-The Lady K


Don't call me "sweetie", "honey", or "horn-ney" (one particular evil customer who torches young employees- and yes, she will be going to hell), "baby-doll", "cutie". Unless we have been dating for at least two months, do NOT call me these nicknames. "Bra lady K" is better than "dear". We are grown women trying to do YOU a great service. I don't care if you are the nicest customer around - I got me a name!

Don't bring your damn dog. I don't care if it's the cutest effin' thing in the world and fits into a coffee cup. Leave it at home. The poor dogs look freaked out and shake for dear life. I feel bad for these little dogs - bred to be cute and small enough to step on.

As for the bigger dogs on a leash, I feel bad for the lingerieladies and fellow customers. We are trying to shop and work in peace without allergies, potential bites, and poop accidents in dressing room 7. We had a co-worker who had her skirt ripped into by a pokey puppy. And, I feel bad for our housekeepingladies who have to poop scoop.

If you can afford a Louis Vuitton dog carrier, then you can afford a dogsitter.

In the land of my ancestors, we eat dog, so leave them at home before I get hungry!!!


Sunday, May 27, 2007

Customer Rule Book R1-R3

R1: Please refrain from calling me MAM. I am 25, but when you call me Mam, I feel like I am pushing 60. There are plenty of ways to get my attention that do not involve the word Mam. My favorite method involves waving me to the register with your black Amex while carting an armload of bras.

R2: Stop killing the messenger. When I tell you that you are a size 40DDD, stop staring at me accusingly as though I were the one responsible for making you that size. Denying that you are, in fact, a 40DDD and squeezing yourself into a 36D will not miraculously shrink those boobies to a smaller size. Trust me. Oddly enough I have attended very intense training sessions that specifically teach me how to fit you into your size.

R3: If you have children, please, DO NOT BRING THEM BRA SHOPPING WITH YOU. Not only do they wreak havoc on our department, yanking bras off hangers and submerging themselves in sleepwear, but they seriously interfere with the fitting process. Surely your husband/nanny/friend/neighbor can take them off your hands for a hot minute while you get yourself a new bra.

- Lady E

Mommies, kiddies, daddies

There should be a limit to kids in the lingerie departments. One adult to every child is a must. We have countless women who don't believe in babysitters for various reasons - they can't bear to leave their kids home (leave them with dad (who never seems to be around)); they can't afford to hire a sitter (but can spend 400 bucks on bras); they are sadistic mothers.

Lingerieladies absolutely hate women who travel with their best friend and her family. Each woman toting three children under the age of five. One kid is a newborn baby, that's why the moms are in, to get a nursing bra or a new set of post nursing bras. The other two children are age 4 and 5. They beat each other. They hide in our panty bunkers. They chase each other and knock down many, many bras. Some even decide to rearrange our merchandise.

The worst offenders of all are mommies who let their children wear rollershoes. On many occasions I've wanted to trip these children. I hate these damn rollershoes. Lingerie departments do not equal freakin' roller rinks.

Maybe, I'm just a childless selfish bitch, but leave the damn kids at home or don't come at all!!!

And for the daddies who sit on their fat asses and won't help their wives out - you suck! I've seen some who come shopping with their families. They sit in the department and wait in silence. F!$#$#king A! Watch your child so your wife can shop for bras. Her tits are sagging as we speak. You inject her with sperm and then sit on your ass while she has the kid and cares for the kid. And she can't shop in peace? You suck!

Cute babies who cannot walk are always welcomed. We love them:)

ll k

Another Day at the Office

At work today I had the following thoughts, few of which are lingerie related:

1. Having Laryngitis while working in retail (as I did, today) is an interesting challenge. On one hand, it makes it far easier for the customer to ignore you. Today many of them would breeze past me as I whisper-screamed "can I help you??!?" at them and pretend that I was simply not there. I felt a brief camaraderie with panhandlers, hand creme kiosk guys, and the do-you-have-a-moment-for-the-environment guys with the clipboards. On the other hand, it made some customers act more nicely toward me because they pitied me more than normal. The poor girl is working in retail AND she’s a mute? I should be charitable and buy a bra from her.

2. They have replaced the regular shirtless guy that stands in front of Abercrombie with a slightly more muscley and metrosexual version. I can only imagine what the demotion speech to former shirtless guy sounded like:

"Hey Chad, man. Sorry bro, but you’re lookin’ a little soft. We’re gonna have Brock take over your door spot for a while. I wont write you up this time, dude, but before you go tonight I need you to clean out the fitting rooms and give me 100 crunches. Cool?"

3. The boys at the MAC counter wear an alarming amount of makeup. So much that a few of them bear a striking resemblance to actual women. I did a triple-take today as I saw one of them enter the men’s restroom. That said, I am totally going to get my makeup done by one of them next time I go out. Those boys sure know how to handle a tube of lipstick.

4. The forks at Chipotle simply do not pierce through anything. Short of a spork, they are the best possible utensil for scraping out burrito innards, but should you need to stab your way through a piece of lettuce you are absolutely screwed. It is probably my fault for ordering a salad at Chipotle. It’s just different ratios of the same crap, right?

5. If one more woman says to me, "You just wait until you are my age... things just don’t hold up like they used to!" I will absolutely scream. Though I may appear to be an ignorant young twenty something, these women must also remember that I SEE BOOBS FOR A LIVING. It is not as though I am sitting around wondering gee, what will my boobs look like when I am 85? Probably just about the same, right? I HAVE SEEN MANY A GRANDMA BOOB. So stop passing along this comment like it is a pearl of wisdom. I cannot take it any longer.

- Lady E

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Lingerie Glossary - custy and OTC

custy - short for customers, simple enough to understand

OTC - stands for exactly what you think: over the counter, used by Lady K to certain problem custys.

When a customer is unruly, bitchy, obnoxious, rude, thief-like and sneeky, ill-mannered, better than thou and God attitudy, etc. , the lingerieladies want to jump "over the counter" and strangle them to death with a bra. It will be worth being fired. It's just retail.

It happens a few times a week. Though most of our custys are civilized and polite.

Oprah's Back Fat

Dearest Oprah,

You are my idol. And I love you. But you must retract certain statements made on your “bra intervention” show. I am one of hundreds of "Department Store X" bra fitters. We are all initially grateful to your show, for, every time this particular show airs we double our sales and make more commission. So, thank you for that. But I suggest you retract or at least put a disclaimer on your show’s position on the evil, notorious, and eyesore “BACK FAT”.

YOUR show stated that there was a bra that ELIMINATED back fact. This statement is far, far, far from truth. The word “minimized” may have been a better choice. There are legions of loyal Oprah viewers, and damn, they sure do listen to every single word of your show. Those legions listened so well that my co-workers and I get yelled at all the time for not having the magical back fat eliminating contraption. I don’t care if the bra is seamless, laser cut, heat infused, or that an invisible bra fairy made it, there is no such bra that melts back fat.

Liposuction or intense exercise may be the only answer. I am not a surgeon or a personal trainer.

I am not a therapist for lack of self-image either. I can do my best to lift and sometimes separate.

O, please tell your ladies, it’s actually okay to have a squeezy here and there. Eliminating all back fat makes us, well, weight lifters. We are females. It’s okay to have back fat. What happened to loving ourselves, our bodies, as is? I have women who squeeze their excess skin, their armpit fat (second to the back fat), their saggy breasts, and other jiggly bits. They squeeze then they agonize over their body parts. I keep things in perspective and fit them the best that I can. I tell them everyone has a little squeezy part. So stop telling them there’s a quick fix to a potentially unhealthy lifestyle. You cannot eat burgers and fries, weigh 250lbs, and then hope for a magical bra. Even skinny girls get back fat! Yes, they do.

Oprah, you see, instead of leaving the lingerie department happy some of my customers leave deflated because of their back fat. They also believe that I gave them a crappy fitting. I had one cranky, stubborn, yet loyal fan of yours yell the living daylights out of me for giving her an unprofessional, bad fit. She demanded zero back fat. She said that you said there was a bra that would do it for her. She called me an incompetent of my trade. She shook her head, waved her hands at me, and sulked. She measured at a 34DD but refused to take any bra close to that size. I, against my training, had to sell her your favorite LeMystere bra in a 38D. She was barely satisfied. But she was done shopping to my relief. Oprah, I never wanted to slap an elderly lady in my life, until that day. The woman was pushing 70 years old and still she had body image issues. This to me is the bigger concern.

And Oprah, please tell your legion that it is okay to have some jiggles and remind them that most people do wear clothes over their bras. No one should be that close to their bodies to inspect the infamous fat. Stop fighting the back fat, either love it or work it off. My back fat letter to you also applies to Spanx. Your beloved modern day girdle may work miracles for some but for others it’s just a device to move their fat to a new place. Again, let’s not hide for the fatness, it’s here, Oprah, it’s here.

Lady K

P.S. How can I get tickets to your Christmas giveaway show? Thanks!

Thursday, May 24, 2007

pay me more, please.

Tonight, a very nice woman came in to find a girdle. I decided a waist cincher was more than enough. She only wanted tummy control (no Spanx needed). The large cincher fit perfect. I helped her fasten everything together -- there's about 20 little hooks.

"The large is too big, I want a medium."

"A medium? Ah, okay."

I think I hurt my thumb putting the medium cincher on my custy. The damn thing was so effin tight, that I had to kneel down, brace her big ass onto my babysized bosom, in plain view of the security cameras. Sometimes, I wonder what security thinks of our antics in the lingerie department. I had some stranger's ass sitting on my chest. Luckily, she didn't smell and her skin was quite soft, hooray.

"The medium is perfect, I'll take the medium."

At least it wasn't a small, I may have broken a finger in that case.

Ubi Sub Ubi - passing the DNA

"ubi sub ubi" a silly phrase composed of real Latin words, "wear under wear". My Latin teacher would always say it as a joke. Now I say it as a code of conduct, "ubi your sub ubi", in my case, "wear your damn undies!"

Going commando is great. I do it often, shhhh! But never at work or while I try on underwear or swimwear. But there are plenty, too many actually that slap on a pair of our store's underwear over their crotches. Why do I know this for a fact? Because I've walked into a room and see Brazilian. If I see your Brazilian while you're wearing the unpurchased undies, then you MUST buy that pair. If underwear has touch your vagina up and close and personal -- that's effin' gross!!!
Buy it you sick bitch! Don't leave it in the dressing room for me to pick it up. Now the protocol is for me to actually plastic bag it and send it away, far away ASAP.

I had these two wannabe models come in and blatantly DNA our undies up, even after I said, hey, "you must keep your undergarments on", they kept prancing around outside their dressing rooms with our undies on. But I doubt they even wore underwear to the store. They had hot bods with jacked up faces (very Los Angeles). Lady E was helping one of them. So, she was my witness to pootyfest.

"Oh, we'll buy all the underwear." My custy said.

Lies. Lies. She bought two out of four she had. E's custy bought two out of the seven she'd tried on.

Trust me, I went in to plastic bag them ASAP.

Lesson here: I only buy underwear if I know it's virginally. Lady E can too. But you as a customer cannot be guaranteed that same luxury.

If you go commando to try on our panties, then think about us - it's gross for us to touch your pooty remains (and yes, I've seen DNA left behind). It's ABSOLUTELY gross for the next person who tries on the same pair-- because the lingerieladies can only catch so many people. So, DNA undies go back to the selling floor all the time -- it doesn't matter if you shop at Saks, Neimans, Nordstrom. Lingeriesladies cannot police each and every dressing room. Though at Target and Forever 21 you may not try on panties, believe it or not -- good for them!

And wait, it's fucking absolutely gross for those who go commando at stores. THINK about it, if you go commando, someone else may have commando the same panties before you tried them on. It's a vicious cycle, so let's end it.

Second lesson: Heat wash your undies before you wear them, regardless of it's origins. Even virgin panties have dyes and chemicals that your skin may respond to. But dyes are better than DNA!

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Spanx...and not the Naughty Kind

A few years ago I stumbled upon an infomercial for a product called “Slim ‘n’ Lift. Alright, that’s a lie. I consciously selected the infomercial channel. It was not late, I was not completely bored, and there were plenty of other things on. The Slim ‘n’ Lift was, essentially, thick hosiery that covered the area above a woman’s knee to below her bust. That, and it had enough sucking power to restrain the wobbly parts of a moderate sized to massively large woman.

At the time, I doubled over laughing as I watched the spokes model (the least likely candidate EVER for such a contraption by the way) lift her flirty party dress to reveal that… surprise! She fit into that dress with a little help from her friend the Slim ‘n’ Lift!

In 2007, in my lingerie department, the Slim ‘n’ Lift is reincarnated as Spanx, a line of body-shapers designed to smooth and control various areas of the body. My general opinion of Spanx is that they are not particularly fair, advertising a body sans fat rolls when, in fact, they are merely suppressed by sturdy hosiery. Not to mention what men must think of the things. Surely this is not something the average male can easily wrap his head around. I feel sympathy for the unsuspecting guy who, after recovering from the initial shock of merely DISCOVERING the hideously unsexy undergarment on his date, is assaulted by the piles of flesh that pour out as he attempts to peel it off of her.

The most personally revolting aspect of Spanx is that, often times, women ask for my assistance putting them on.

This is best illustrated by my encounter with Lavonne.

Lavonne was a customer who was, in every sense, simply big. Big boobs, big body, and a bizarre, elaborate updo that nothing short of an entire can of Aquanet could hold up. Lavonne needed help with Spanx.

“What size would I wear?” she bellowed in my general direction (Incidentally, her voice was big as well, the booming type inclined to “bellow.”)

“Well, what size pants do you wear?”


“Then I would suggest an extra large”

“I ain’t wearin no extra large! I’m getting’ the small! Extra large? What’s the damn point?”

After patiently explaining to Lavonne what the damn point was (that I, at 115lbs would be the likely candidate for a size small, and that the XL would, in fact still suck her in) I negotiated her up to a size large. Just when I assumed I had contained her in the fitting room, I heard her yell,

“Where you goin’? I might need sum help getting’ this thing on!”


Unfortunately for me, it is part of my job description to obligingly fit women like Lavonne into a pair of Spanx. So, I turned around, sucked it up, and prepared to help get her sucked in.

I won’t disturb you with the details of what happened next with Lavonne, because I fear the mental image will haunt you, as it does me, forever. I will tell you that it involved a ratty pair of undies, an unthinkable amount of sweat, and some serious yanking and pulling.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, she ended up purchasing the extra large.

-Lady E

Embrace the Lace

My average customer is in her forties, has popped out a couple of kids, and has virtually given up when it comes to bras. When I approach her, in full-blown cheerful salesperson mode, the conversation goes something like this:

“Hi, can I help you find something in particular today?”
“No, I’m just looking”
“I see that you are looking at the Chantelle bras! They are my absolute favorite. Great for under t-shirts with beautiful fashion styles as well, all hand-sewn lace!!”
“Thanks, I’m good.”
“I see that you are pulling size 36C… when was the last time you were measured?"
“I don’t need to be measured, I know my size”
“Great. Let’s get you into the fitting room!”

It is usually after I manage to wrangle the customer into the fitting room that I realize she is the “average customer.” Usually she begins to defensively explain to me exactly what she DOES NOT want. She does not want to look any bigger. She does not want anything with padding, lace, or seams. God forbid I attempt to put her into anything resembling flattering. She simply will not have it.

She needs two bras, one nude, and one black. She will wear these two bras, these two bras alone, for the duration of one to three years. I AM NOT KIDDING YOU. Though she has not admitted this to me, it is evidenced by the bra she wears in, which is alarming ratty, a dingy shade of brown, with the size on the tag completely rubbed off.

Once we have selected a nude and black bra that fit reasonably well, I always try to force the customer to try on a lacy bra of some sort. Literally, I usually say “I am going to MAKE YOU try on a pretty bra. And I do. I stand there while the customer begrudgingly lifts herself into the attractive bra. Usually it looks great, and for a moment I see a glimpse of something other than self-loathing in her eyes.

Until, inevitably, she wrinkles up her face and whines, “but what can you WEAR THIS UNDER?”

I hate this question. I do not understand this question. The bra looks great, you feel hot in it, and the worst that can happen is that someone might see a hint of lace under your shirt and think, hey, that lady must be wearing a hot bra.

Not to mention, do you people just not have sex anymore??? If not, I suspect that horrid bra that you came in with might have something to do with it.

The moral of the story is this: Embrace the lace. Not buying the lacy bra is like going to a fancy restaurant, looking at all of the delicious entrees and deciding nah, I’ll just have a few pieces of toast. Buy the pretty bras. Even if the only time you wear them is alone, while vacuuming and watching Oprah, you will not regret it.

-Lady E

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Lingerie glossary - B.D.

B. D. - this term was coined by me, Lady K, sometime in early 2006

B. D. - it stands for "body dandruff", the ashy remains of flaky skin, usually SEEN on black bras, black shapewear, black tanks, black chemises, black panties, black anything that touches skin. most women have none. some women have some. some women are entiredly composed of B. D.

Please look at the garments you try on. If you leave B.D. which technically belongs to you, then shake the freaking garment, lingerie ladies do not want to see your DNA. Plus, we hate shaking it off ourselves, tis gross.

Please look at the garments you try on. Just in case B. D. was left by someone else.

If you have B.D. invest in some body lotion and stop taking hot ass showers.

Come Clean. Seriously.

There comes a time when everyone needs to shower.

My mother always taught me to shower before going to the doctor's office. She also suggested that I brush and floss before my dental visits. Good hygiene is important.

A basic shower takes a few minutes, water, water, soap, soap, rinse, rinse. Done. It's that simple.

But for some ladies, a few minutes, is a lifetime. They choose to take a yoga class, a spin class, and/or a jog which lasts many, many minutes, say 60. Their minutes are exhausted. There is no time to shower. The world could end in those extra minutes. So, these ladies leave their respective gyms and drive directly to the lingerie department for a bra fitting.

What in the world are these chicks thinking??!?!?

They come to the department. I look up. I see a gym bag, tossled hair, and a few remaining sweat beads. Damn. Why? Why?

"Hey, can I be fitted?"

"Of course, you can, follow me."

I DO NOT like touching sweaty (unless you're a hotboy), sometimes, stinky bodies. The worst is when they say to me while they wipe away sweat,

"Sorry, I'm a little sweaty, I just took an amazing yoga class."

"It's cool. Don't worry about it. Yoga's great."

I throw in a smile and a nod of approval. An inch below my surface, I dread.

The fitting usually goes well. My yoga ladies leave happy and energized in a different way. We just lifted spirits and breasts together. Namaste.

By the time my lady customer takes her first step away from the cash wrap, I am, sprinting my way to the restroom for a major handwashing.

Doctors have to wear gloves during exams. Lingerie Ladies don't. We're trying to help you out the best we can. Please respect our hands and health by showering after your workout and before you visit us.

Oh, and shave your armpits. Hair traps odor, yucky odor, some of which I can smell too well. I've had people apologize to me for not shaving. FUCKING SHAVE THEN!

Friday, May 18, 2007

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow - Brazilian Waxing

I have a high threshold for hot wax, I say bring it! What's life without a wax? Ladies, we wax everything Mother Nature gave us, brows, upperlips, pits, arms, legs. Men even do it. Some need to if they haven't started yet.

Nothing ruins a gorgeous, sex-screaming, and lacey panty than bush, beaver, muff, simply put hair!!! It drives me insane. Lace, lace, lace, bush. Which one of these doesn't belong?

I, being minimally hairy throughout my life, never understood the term 'beaver' until I saw a woman at my Hollywood gym. Holy mother of hair, it looked like a beaver or Mr. T's mohawk. Thick, black, and absolutely opaque. No light will pass through there ever. Oy. Oy. Oy.

When a panty is sheer, see-thru in any way, it's so unattractive to have unruly pubic stick out. It's looks like a poor porcupine got trapped in your Hanky Pankies or Cosabellas. If you own these products, wax it off, shave it off, at least trim it. There have been too many moments in my lingerie life where I've seen stray hairs. I cannot concentrate to talk to the customer, I just want to run and find my waxer's phone number (Wax Poetic in Burbank). I would buy the customer a razor if I could without being too rude.

I'm not against hair in between waxing or shaving time. I'm not against hair that is flat and tamed. But if I can see it from across the locker room, goddamn, please clean it up!

We were hairy humans, many a million years ago, because it was cold, we didn't have houses, space heaters, down jackets, or heated car seats. Now we do, yes, we do. Lose the hair. I promise you will not freeze your vagina off.

I believe in manscaping too. Gentlemen, if your penis is covered by curly, long pubes, then, shit, trim it! It's not attractive. There's no need to wax (though that may impressed us), but keep it clean.

Certain men love a hairfree or tamed groin area. Trust me.

Plus, there's never a worry when you're at the beach or pool. There's no need to constantly look and tuck stray roaming hair. I frolick freely with no hesitation. Yippee!

BRAZILIAN WAX time. Those damn Brazilians know how to live - sun, surf, and wax. If you have ever thought of doing it, do it, do it. I was egged on by someone. I have to thank him now because it's addictive.

Here's what happens:

You'll be asked to de-pant and lay on a table.
They waxer powders your va-gee-gee like a big baby.
You sweat like crazy because you're scared.
You talk about everything possible and pretend there isn't a stranger prepping your crotch.
She prop you in some yoga position.
She'll lay some hot wax on your crotch, usually a section or half at a time.
While you gab and gab, Waxer Woman will place cloth over the wax.
RIPMOTHERFUCKSKY (it ain't a Polish last name).
The rip is quite quick.
This is repeated on the next section.
A couple tweezes later to finetune down there.

My waxes take maybe 5-7 minutes. Some apparently can take 40 minutes ie the true beavers.

Last step, wear that sexy, see-thru, lacey, sheer thong or panty.

-The minimal hair lady k.

PS. Lady E is not a hairball either.

Introducing Lady E

Growing up, had anyone asked me where I saw myself career-wise when I turned 25, my response may have been “A famous actress!” or in my slightly more jaded, more realistic years “I don’t know… journalist? Working my way up the corporate ladder?” Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine answering “Lingerie sales associate!” And yet, here I am. At work each day staring disdainfully at the growing mound of assorted tangled bras and panties before me disbelieving the reality that I, in fact, am responsible for putting them away.

Not to say that “lingerie sales associate” isn’t a perfectly respectable job. In fact, there are even people out there who ASPIRE to be lingerie sales associates. This became evident to me while watching (with a mixture of amusement and disbelief) my coworkers speak with what can only be described as unbridled passion about the various bra cuts (demi, soft cup, balconette), styles (racerback, strapless) and designers (La Perla, Wacoal). The greatest amount of enthusiasm I can muster is merely sufficient to drag me out of bed in the morning and into the dreaded lingerie department.

Fortunately, I see the humor in the situation. In fact, I find the daily tasks, goals, and challenges of my position absolutely laughable.

I think you will too.

More to come… Lady E

How to Size - guerilla style

Okay, if you cannot reach a bra fitter anytime soon, you can fit yourself (kinda).

1. grab a tape measure.

2. take off your shirt. take off your bra (some fitters don't do this, but i do).

3. wrap the tape measure underneath your breasts/bra line.

4. make sure your arms are dropped and not raised, it makes somewhat a difference.

5. read the number. my number says 30.

6. add about 2-3 inches to it. in my case, I'm a 32-33. A 33? WTF? I'm between a big 32 and a small 34, it happens.

a. Try the smaller size first, most people don't might the fit.

b. Now, if the bra you want has a death grip around you, try the larger size. ***There isn't neccessarily one perfect size for anyone.

c. I've noticed that larger women can usually handle a band size smaller than what they should be. I've had custys (lingerie slang for customers) that measure at a 40. I'd like to give her a 40. But she rather have a tighter band for more lift. YES, THE BAND IS WHERE THE SUPPORT IS.

d. If your bra rides up your back, then it may be too big of a band for you. Or your bra is too damn old and stretchy. Bras live 6-9 months if you wear it regularly. Throw them junks away, ladies!

7. As for the cup size, we eyeball and wing it. Place tit into selected cup size. The wire or seam should cup your entired breasts. It shouldn't be sitting on your breast tissue - get a bigger cup if the wire is on your boob. Remember WEAR THE RIGHT SIZE. If the cup still doesn't fit, get a bigger cup, leave the band alone. If the cup kinda fits but it ain't all in there, get another bra, same size.

a. See, even if Lady E and I were there assisting every boob move, if the bra doesn't fit, it doesn't fit. Knowing your size is only half the battle. SHAPE of the bra and SHAPE of your breasts are key factors in the correct bra. Try a molded cup, try a soft cup, try lace, try padded, try it all, don't a bitch who refuses to wear something, don't.

b. If you hate your size, then cut off the damn tag. It's between us, you, and the bra. There are women who rather look silly in a smaller size (see Double Bubble) or be loose in a larger size (see Saggy Breasts, um, look around).



There is SCIENTIFIC PROOF that 56 inches will not/can not/is not = 44 inches.

If you are a lady of largeness, own it, work it, be proud of it, don't deny yourself of oxygen by suffocating your breasts and lungs into something that doesn't fit.

love, lady k

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Double Bubble is everywhere!!!

I just got back from the gym. Even at the gym, where women are supposed to be wearing cleavage controlling/flattening devices aka sports bras, the double bubble is in full effect. You, yes, you, know exactly what i'm talking about. Ladies, when your cleavage is spilling over your bra's edges, it's the DOUBLE BUBBLE. This is not sexy. Cascading breasts are very victorian. It's 2007, keep 'em joints contained!!! This can be done by wearing the right sized bra, so go get your tay-tays (prefered over tas-tas) measured at your friendly certified lingerie store. It's an embarrassment to the female gender. Go bra-less before you go double bubble.

YOU are probably in a size way too damn small for your thunderous DD mounds. There is no shame in being an A or G, just wear your real size. You squeeze a D into B and pretend you're a B cup. It's fucking ridunkulous, not ridiculous, ridunkulous! The size is between you, your bra, and perhaps me (or your local bra fitter). Society put a stigma on big tits, there I said it, "big tits". There isn't anything wrong with big boobs, I'd be out of business if they didn't exist. BE PROUD. WEAR YOUR SIZE. For God sake's, people pay for your size, own it!

Once I had a customer swear she couldn't be a 34D cup. She said to me, "Strippers have D cups. I can't."

I said, "Strippers are people too."

I've been to an all nude strip club (another blogspot another day) and most of the girls were barely Cs. Two out of the ten had fake tits making them DDs.
TODAY'S LESSON: wear the right size, big or small, or face judgement from The Lingerie Ladies. You look like an ass when you spill over. There are ladies who come in wearing nice suits. The classy office look is virtually destroyed when the suit jacket comes off. Double mothaeffin' bubble! T-shirts? Don't even go try, sista. WEAR YOUR SIZE. DO NOT FEAR.
---love, lady k

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

May Bridal Showers

Bridal showers occur year-round but with June around the corner, it's double time. Maids, matrons, and girlfriends, I bet you are on the last minute prowl for this weekend's bridal shower gifts. No one plans in advance for bridal shower gifts. We've encountered plenty of same day shower attendees. You most likely will freak out and grab either the whitest of white chemises or the tackiest of tacky animal prints for a gift. STOP. There's more to bridal life than white or leopard.

Don't be afraid to choose something your girlfriend may actually wear, sexy, flirty, colorful, floral, and/or lacey. There's a multitude of items that are hot and sexy that the bride can wear over and over again. White looks awful on me because I'm pale as ass. Think about it, is your friend tan or white as my ass? White washes us pale girls out. Give your friend a colored product or maybe a ivory/champagne color lingerie item. If she is conservative, then go for a long nightgown, opaque in fabric with a touch of lace (Oscar or Vera Wang is the way to go). If she is a sex kitten, then go with fun colors, ruffles, see-thru, even crotchless (Betsey, Honeydew, Fredericks), so what? We're all adults, we know that adults have sex. If your bride is younger ie your niece, granddaughter, etc, then give her CASH. Don't bother with a gift, she ain't gonna like it! Trust me, I've help plenty of elderly customers, trying to relive their 1960s bridal glory, by buying things they would wear. GIVE CASH.

Next lesson, you must learn immediately, NEVER GIVE A BRA!!! Seriously, don't do it. Being the bra fitters that we are, we know every boob is different in shape and structure. Even if you swear you know her size, don't buy a bra for your friend. 99% chance it won't fit. Buy a cami or chemise instead. If your friend has huge knockers, then buy a non-biased chemise for her, which means 'no seams' where the chest area is. Your friend does not need to be reminded of her sagging large breastesses by having a empire seam cut on her breasts.

Last lesson, most gifts will be greatly appreciated and returned, so don't go crazy on your purchases (thought and/or price). Yours truly, Lady K