When I first moved to my rural county, one of the first questions out of my mouth was, "Where is the mall?"
It's not so much that I was a slave to fashion, it's just that I had grown up in suburbia, where there are malls, and there are movie theaters with stadium seating, and there are chain restaurants. That's just the way I've always known things to be. The sun will rise, the winds will blow, babies will be born, people will pass away, and there will be large shopping malls.
So, you can imagine my surprise when people said, "The closest mall is in Annapolis, which is about an hour and a half drive away."
I felt like I had moved to a lunar outpost.
Seven years later, I can say that I've managed to do just fine. I can find most of what I need online or in regular stores. If I do go to the mall, it's maybe once a year. And, since living in the country has made me less patient with crowds, trafffic, and general tomfoolery, once a year is plenty.
Nevertheless, I went to the mall yesterday with a good friend, because we both needed some time away. I bought a few items, and we had lunch. It was all quite fantastic.
However, I must share my thoughts about bras. I went to Victoria's Secret specifically because they have the magic bra with the straps that move around. I wanted to wear tank tops and halter tops and other such things. Sadly, though, my days of letting the girls fly free are behind me. So, I was off to purchase the magic seven-way bra. Onward!
I went in and got measured. I must say that Oprah failed me. She had a show a few years back talking about how most women wear ill-fitting bras that add pounds or discomfort or other terrible things. My hero Tim Gunn has also opined about the necessity of foundational undergarments. I was sold, and prepared to let a stranger measure my chest.
Alas, on Oprah and Tim Gunn's shows, the women profiled were told that their cup sizes were too small. They were told that they had been constricting their bosoms. Let the girls loose! Give 'em breathing room!
No such luck for me.
They measured me and gave me tiny bras that could probably support a Cabbage Patch Doll. I asked, tentatively, hopefully, "Do you think I need a larger bra?"
The salesgirl shook her head quickly, "Oh, no. Definitely not. Not even close."
I didn't ask anymore questions because I was afraid the ladies would re-direct me to Gymboree for My First Foundational Undergarment.
I didn't take any pictures for Sundays in My City in the mall, because I think you've all seen a mall. Also, I would guess that brandishing my camera phone in Victoria's Secret could very well be misconstrued.
Therefore, here are some completely unrelated shots of the kids at the beach:
Thanks to Unknown Mami for hosting Sundays in My City! Come visit her to see how you can share your city each Sunday.