Before my kids were born I had two instances that have stuck with me, partly making me the self-conscience person I can be today. The first, I went into a European dress store for a skirt suit for a job interview. I had heard that store was great with lots of professional clothes to choose from but I was warned that all of the staff was from France and very snobby. I figured I’d browse on my own and ignore them. Little did I know that the store was super small and the minute I walked in, I was the center of everyone's attention. A salesperson walked over to me with her thin self and in a thick French accent she said “Oh, you.” -- pause to look me up and down while pointing to my bottom half (big) and to my top half (small) – “You will need separate sizing.” What? Ew. Who the hell says that? Shortly after this gem of a moment, or maybe because of it, I went to a plastic surgeon to see about getting boob implants. For this second experience, I was called into the doctor’s office for the consultation and immediately upon sitting down, he looked at me and said “Yes. With your body size, you should definitely have larger breasts.” Look I am not saying I disagree – if I put on a few pounds my gut can protrude more than my tits. But again, what the hell? How can people be so blunt and fresh and simply evil? On principle, I didn’t get the suit at that store and I never got the implants. Well, that’s what I will tell myself – I actually couldn't fit in the European sizing (my ass was too big) and the implants were too expensive. Guess I will just have to shop at regular department stores for my pear shape body and be happy with my little pits.
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