Little Black Nothing

Jun 30, 2015 by

          “You know those times when you’re like, I need a boyfriend?” I said to Jill, the Victoria’s Secret employee sorting through underwear with me a couple weeks ago.

          “Right?” she responded. “To justify the cost?”

          Oh, the cost was no factor. I was buying the little black, strapped piece of almost nothing. Whatever the price tag I still hadn’t looked at said didn’t matter. Why I needed a boyfriend was to rip it off.

          “I get that be-pretty-for-yourself mentality,” I said to Jill, “but . . .” I held up what was demanding to be removed before I had even tried it on.

          Her face made the same holy-fuck expression that mine had upon first sight.

          I made my way over to the change room with one small and one medium. The Victoria’s Secret staff, which I had already chatted with half of, insisted that I’d be an extra small, but I know my body. My hips are wide and my ass is prominent (and I like them that way). Even when extra small fits, it is not my most flattering underwear size. To be honest, I knew I probably wouldn’t even like the small. I was just trying it on for comparison purposes. Some underwear fits my hips but is too big for the rest of me, so I need to see what a small looks like in order to assess the relative functionality of a medium. Essentially, I need to make sure fabric isn’t sagging where it shouldn’t (i.e. nowhere) when going up in size to account for hip width.

          On the fence about which looked better, I asked Jill to come into the change room. “Jill, I’m going to warn you,” I prefaced from behind the change room door, “I’m between waxes.”

          She didn’t care.

          “Come in,” I welcomed as I opened the door in a bra and underwear. “I need to know which size looks better. This is the medium. I don’t care if the tag says medium or small, so don’t worry about that,” I assured her, not wanting to be given a dishonest answer out of politeness. “I just want to know which looks better on.”

          I was leaning toward medium, but I wanted a second opinion. While I changed into the small for her to see next, I asked her to grab me a large.

          “I don’t think you should go bigger than a medium,” she hesitated.

          “I just need to compare, girl,” I smiled.

          She humoured me.

          “Which looks hotter?” I asked Jill after she saw me in all three sizes. “Remember, I do not care if you pick the bigger size. If the medium is more flattering than the small, tell me. The goal is to feel sexy, not to have the smallest size on the tag.”

          Jill suggested medium and I agreed. The small hugged my hips a little more than I liked and the large was very clearly loose. I am in love with how I look in that medium, and I’m writing about it because I’m well aware that not everyone disregards size so nonchalantly. It’s easy to tie self-esteem to size, and it hurts my heart to know that some people let a tag tell them whether or not they’re sexy. Sexiness is not a size; it’s a feeling.

          “Okay, Jade, do you think this bra lifts?” I asked another one of the Victoria’s Secret staff members. “I think it does,” I said, half-sure as I looked down at my boobs in a different bra size than I’m used to.

          “Yeah! Look in the mirror!” Jade gestured. “Right when I walked in, I thought, dayum, I think that’s the kind of lift she was looking for.”

          Sold.

Happiness Tip: The goal is to feel sexy, not to have the smallest size on the tag.

 
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