THE BRA WHISPERER

OK, bra shopping is the one thing that can give me the hives. I have spent more years than you can imagine having people give me "the perfect fit".

The process is as follows: You go to the store, they take out their "special tape" and go out to the store and bring you 12 bras that do not fit in any way shape or form. This process of trying on bras to come up with the least offensive one takes a minimum of 45 minutes, and I end up with the same ill-fitting bra as I had prior.

I say to myself: Aarrgh! I would do anything to get a bra that fits. It doesn't have to be pretty, just functional.

The Intimacy store opened at the mall last year sometime. I never thought a thing about it. A few nights ago while watching TV there was a commercial on that I did not feel was great, but I picked up my computer, went online and made an appointment.

Today was the day. My appointment was at 10:00 AM. I was running late and arrived at 10:10, was offered water, which I accepted, and they asked me to fill out a questionnaire. What kind of problems do you have, bra straps slipping, yada yada. I wanted to write in big letters.....

I just want a bra that fits, for God's sake!!

At 10:15, I follow Amber into a fitting room. Amber looks like an amber. She is thin, adorable, and I am old enough to be her mother (let's face it at this stage I am old enough to be anyone's mother)...How in the world can she fit me in a bra?

Small talk while I got undressed. What did you do before this....I was a DJ at a radio station. You can actually see me mentally rolling my eyes here. They interviewed 400 people for the job and only hired 4 (ya right, I think).

Then she says: We do not measure here. We have a holistic method of bra fitting. My head is spinning around, because an eye roll is simply not enough at this point.

Now is the point that you strip down to nothing. I say I am losing weight (now you are rolling your eyes), and she says that's great because they will do complimentary weight loss alterations on your purchase.

She looks at my sad, naked body, and says I will be right back. Right, I think, she has gone for reinforcements, someone more skilled than her to do the fitting.

She arrives back with one bra in her hand. She says I think this is the right one. I am almost snorting with laughter...except that it fit. It fit perfectly. It fit better than any bra I had ever had. It fit and it was lacy, pretty. I felt like crying. She says, I think we can do better. BETTER!!! IS SHE KIDDING ME?????

She comes back with a black lacy bra, which was the most incredible thing that I had ever seen. OMG! I said, I'll take it. She said, that's your first bra, do you buy your first car? Yes, I said. You cannot possibly have more bras to try.

She arrives back with a handful of beautiful bras, lacy, in colors.
They ALL fit!!!
All of them!!!

I had choices....colors.

Tears came to my eyes!! I chose two, a black and a red. RED!! I have never had a red bra in my life...or a lace bra. OMG!! I wonder how they will look with my Jockey for Her??

The best is.....I was done at 10:30. Fifteen minutes to find the perfect bra!!

I love Amber. I wanted to ask her to Thanksgiving dinner. I wanted to hug her.

As I left the store, she yelled: You didn't even ask what size you wore.

I yelled back: Who cares? They fit!

INCINERATOR

I was at work today, and a lovely customer and I were discussing the whole "Did you drop the spoon (why is it always the spoon?) down the disposal?" to which your husband would respond...not me. When you are the only two in the house and you know you did not do it you question why you asked at all...oh, that's right to see if he will fess up. Nah!!

Meanwhile, back to the point of this...I told her the story that follows:

When I was about 8-ish (remember we were less sophisticated in the dark ages) we had gone to a gas station for a fill-up. For those youngsters out there: a person who worked for the gas station came out to your car in a uniform and asked if you would like the tank filled, your oil checked, and he would then wash your windows. If they did not automatically check your oil without asking my mother would be insulted and vow to never go back.



They also offered gifts with a fill-up. That is right they did not charge you an extra $.45 for using your debit card (oops there were no credit or debit cards back then), they gave you a gift. In this case some wonderful white mugs with some sort of a hideous bright colored coating on them with gold flecks. I LOVED THEM!! A momentary lapse of design judgment. We got them. I was soooooo excited.

I asked my mom if we could use them and she said yes.

Unbeknownst to her I took the fine China mugs from England that were (of course) all she had left from her Father, put them in the trash bag, walked them to the incinerator, and burned them.

I spend the next six weeks cleaning them (to no avail) everyday after school to try and save them and redeem myself.

The lady and I laughed, the other people standing around us were just staring. The customer said to me...they have no idea what an incinerator is. I thought OMG she is right. Another word gone the way of antimacassar.

I started to tell them about incinerators. Each house had one and we took the trash out, and lit it, and watched all the trash burn. Then you would have to clean out the ash (yuck-o). They stared....in shock. You burned things? In your back yard? Every day? I could see them thinking no wonder the planet is in bad shape. While writing this, I am thinking how many firebugs were created from this.

I googled incinerator pictures, and this was the winner.

OK....that was a little large. It really looked like this...(I have no idea who the boy is)

and you put the trash in the top
and took the ash out the bottom

Do you think that this is why my nephew set fire to my niece's toy dog Fifi (a very large stuffed Poodle)? My mother punished the two of us for days for doing that to the dog. Michael for doing it and me for not ratting him out!

Ah the good old days!!

BICE

After a long wait (about two years), we went to the soft opening of Bice San Diego tonight. Trevor and Jen's restaurant. Betsy, Hen, Devin and I all were excited to attend. The boys were there with Jen's sister and her parents--all looking fabo!!

First, we were greeted by the always beautiful Jen...looking Rachel Zoe thin in a backless black dress. Trevor looking Italian, dapper, and very handsome by her side. The restaurant itself is visually stunning. The lighting in the bar area alone could come home with me tomorrow! You travel up steps into the main dining room which houses the cheese bar---yes, that is right a cheese bar (yum-o). Behind glass is a much to be admired wine room.

There is a dining room available for special events as well, shielded from the bar area with paneled glass doors.

The decor is exquisite.
The staff was wonderful.
The menu a delight (I could fall face first into the Polenta/cheese dish).
Prices moderate.

A few kinks...but I have a few kinks and I am 58, not one day old.

Congratulations!! May this restaurant be a huge success.

The restaurant is at 4th and Island.
The phone for reservations is 619.239.BICE.
The food is Italian.
I put this in, because if you google you may find yourself at a Bo Bice concert instead!

SECOND CHANCE TWO

This is the month for the annual Second Chance event at Bloomingdale's. I wish I could say that I am the main driver for this event....but I seem to just drive the donations to the facility....and take the pictures of course.

It is a great cause, and we have a great time doing it. Laughter, tears, and, of course everything with humor.

The SECOND CHANCE PROGRAM was begun by Scott Silverman, shown here with Kathleen Fogarty.
Scott was named a CNN Hero and just released his book "Tell Me No I Dare You!"
available at Amazon....of course.

Here is a great article from the LA Times


We had people there for hair...

image consultants...

consultant consultants
and, we definitely showed teamwork
There were makeovers
Then there was the group shot....I had a hard time getting everyone in the picture until Scott said...."Everyone turn sideways, pretend there is a number in front of you"

But still my favorite story of all was when one of our people asked what type of job there were going to try to get.
The Second Chance Alum said "Sales".
She was asked "Do you have experience in Sales?"
She said "You bet! I sold crack!"
I bet she would do fine selling whatever she wants to...can't wait until next year!

I'M IN STITCHES

OK! I admit it...sometimes when I am bored I google myself. Obviously, it was a slow day and I found myself googling, well, me. The usual things came up, stitch guides, white pages, etc.

Then I decided to google my old store, I'm in Stitches, in Newburyport, MA.

There was a blog (Moth Heaven) that listed I'm in Stitches (now defunct). Now defunct. That hurt. I do not know why it hurt. I closed it and moved on...on to San Diego. But....defunct.....eek!

Two lines below Moth Heaven was a clip from the Newburyport Daily News. Local resident opens needlework store, Uncommon Threads.

It had a picture of the lovely owner.
As I looked at the picture, I though, WOW that looks like the window in my first store. The more I looked, I realized, it is the window in my first store. I read more.

This store opened May 1 at 48 Inn Street. I re-read it. 48 Inn Street. That was my first address: 48 Inn Street, then I moved in to 46 and 48 Inn Street, then I moved up around the corner into 22 Pleasant Street. OMG! What are the chances that ten years after I closed my store, another store would open in my space, that sold needlepoint!

I wish her much luck, it is a lovely place to have a store.

The circle closes, much like a French Knot.

ANTIMACASSAR MEANS...

I guess I have become the vessel of the arcane words. I am always the person that gets called as a joke to define strange words. That is fine with me...but, where are these words going.


An antimacassar, was a part of my life growing up. It was a little fabric edged with tatting or crochet that was found on the back of chairs. They were also on the arms of the chairs to protect from the oils in your hands (I still have them).

Macassar was an oil put in the hair to control it during the Victorian times. Ergo an anti-macassar was put to keep the hair oil off of the back of the chair...then we moved to Brylcream (a little dab will do you),

or VO5...

still the chairs needed protection. Also, furniture lasted a life time...or many lifetimes...it was not dispensable as it is now.

The fact that this word was in my third grade grandchild's spelling list it very strange.

The big concern is where are these words going. They are disappearing from our language and becoming trivia. We are turning into a society that does not read anything longer than a "Twitter" or is the proper vernacular a "Tweet."

Some day I will tell you the story of my niece's (Lauri) birth, my ponytail, and VO5. This may not be the proper venue!?