Public Apology

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this is an open letter to any client of Victoria's Secret that happened to shop at the Southcenter Mall in Seattle, Washington during the years of 1998-2002.

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I am sorry.


I am sorry NOT for giving you confidence in your purchase. I am NOT sorry for giving you a perfectly fitting undergarment. Despite my position only being a part-time one while I worked as an engineer at Boeing.... I know I did a DAMN good job with bra fittings.


I AM sorry for not listening.


Not listening when you told me how depressed you are/were of the condition of your breasts. I'm sorry for convincing you that you did NOT need surgical augmentation. yes. I am sorry.

WHY? cause I GET IT NOW.

I now personally understand the effects of pregnancy, nursing, weight gain and loss, and the last bitch... TIME.


yes. I certainly get it now. I GET looking at yourself in a mirror, wondering when and where did the VAST PLAIN below your collarbone appeared, and just what are those droopy flesh-bags flanking it?

I now understand what it's like to look at yourself and SERIOUSLY have a mental debate whether lifting/enlarging the breasts would really be any better than chopping the remaining sacks off altogether.

Granted, I'm MORE SORRY for the lack of designers that cater to women like us, who deep down.. under all these 'mommy' layers... would just LOVE to wear a flouncy and cute sundress that doesn't cover our entire upper-body because of the bras we have to wear to keep previously mentioned sandbags from sliding off into the oblivion called our armpits.

but yeah... you ladies of Southcenter's Victoria's Secret???

my bad. I totally hear you now, and no longer will tell you you're crazy for wanting something else to go on 'up there'.