Where Are The Old Crows When You Need 'Em?

Good morning. 

For girls' eyes only!!

I have finally decided that I need a bra. Desperately.

I have been skipping blithely through life thinking that my recent conversion to teddies (cami's) is going to do it for me, and be a lot more comfortable--but a recent photo and a stray glance into the mirror have shown me otherwise.  I need a new, fitted garment, and when it fits I will get three.  But there's a catch.

When I was young I'd go up to a place like Saks in La Jolla, or Worth's on El Cajon Blvd. or even the Broadway, and in the lingerie department there would always be an Older Lady, well corseted herself, who came over and made your life miserable as you looking through the lingerie on your own. 

"You need a support garment," she would say, looking you up and down with steely eyes. It didnt matter if you said that you were plenty firm on your own and actually were not sagging at all, those eyes of steel had seen it all, and she'd seen you and found you lacking.

That's the lady I need now.  But the trouble is--I am the old crow now.  And, as far as I've found, the lingerie salons are staffed by a girl of twenty who's just horrified to be asked to contemplate your problems or to do anything to remediate what she considers a hopeless situation.
She went into the fitting room with you, and she pinched and pulled any garments you took with you, and she pointed out failings here or there, and she made suggestions based on thirty years' experience in underwear fitting rooms.  She was more knowledgeable than your gynecologist; she'd seen everything.

Well, here am I with one old worn out bra; I thoughtlessly tossed the others when I went over to cami's.  Without the old saleslady, I guess I'll have to rely for the fitting of new ones on the only old crow I have around: me!!   YAZZYBEL