Buying a bra

We were invited to a wedding with a dress code: pastel chic. But – the groom had told us – we didn't have to stick to it at all, because even his own mother had bought a dress that didn't fit the theme. He delivered the news cheerfully, but it still sounded like someone had been annoyed by it. I already knew that I would stick to the dress code no matter what, because instructions are instructions.

Together with Arjen, I went to a clothing store to look for pastel chic. Arjen disappeared to find a suit for himself. I thought about what I hoped to find: it was preferably something with trousers, so I could decently wear sneakers. And not too warm, because it was already 30 degrees and it was still morning. In the store, I asked for advice.
“I’m looking for an airy chic suit,” I said, “in a pastel color.”
“I’ll just do a round through the store,” the girl said. 

She came back with a lilac suit: a jacket and wide-legged trousers. I changed in the fitting room and realized that I had once again forgotten that I am a small, solid woman, not a long-legged model. The suit, with me in it, looked like a thick curtain dragging across the floor. It was also boiling hot, by the way. I quickly took it off again.
“I also have these two for you,” the girl said, and she handed me sleeveless jumpsuits: one bright blue and one bright green.
“Very nice,” I said, “but they are not pastel.”
“You're right,” she said in the way ChatGPT often misunderstands instructions. A.I. sometimes approaches real life better than we think.

I bought beige wide-legged trousers with a matching jacket, and a chic white lace camisole. Due to the thinner fabric of the trousers and the bare camisole, I immediately faced a new problem: I needed new underwear.
“That’s next door,” the girl said, so I headed next door: a lingerie store with brightly colored bikinis in the display window.

In the second store, I immediately asked for advice. Looking for myself was out of the question.
“I’m going to a wedding party tonight,” I said, “I have new clothes and now I’m looking for matching underwear.” I was put in a fitting room.
“Let’s see what you’re wearing now,” the woman said.
I took off my shirt. Sweat was running down my back.
“Oh,” she said, looking at my wilting and dull bra, “this will be easy for me.” With a tape measure, she measured the circumference of my ribcage.
“Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t know this morning that I would end up here, otherwise I would have worn something else.” In this world I had just invented, I apparently had a drawer full of lace bras in all colors of the rainbow.
“No problem,” the woman said cheerfully, “I’ll just do a round through the store.”
Never before had others made rounds in stores especially for me, but now it was happening for the second time on the same day. She came back with a white lace bra; I had never seen anything so beautiful in real life. It seemed a bit small to me, but I put it on. She was right, my old bra watched sadly from a hook, but with this one, I looked like a princess – in her underwear. 

“I think it’s so beautiful,” I said.
“I just want you to feel good,” the woman said, “that’s the most important thing.”
“Sorry I’m sweating so much,” I said.
“Me too,” the woman said, “it’s fine, we’re just nice people.”
“Underwear sellers?”
“Yes, there are stories going around that we’re mean, on the internet.”
“I don’t think you’re mean at all,” I said, “I think you’re sweet.”

Meanwhile, Arjen entered the store, looking for me.
“I’m looking for my wife,” he said apologetically.
“Here I am,” I called out.
Relieved, he appeared a moment later with his head through my curtain.
“Wow!” he said.
“Yes, wow,” I said.
He leaned closer to me. “I almost walked into another fitting room with a lady in a bikini.”

I tried on a few other models and then even some panties worth a full bag of groceries. It became a sizeable pile. Everything was wrapped in chic pastel tissue paper; the groom would be proud of me.
“Enjoy your purchases tonight,” the saleswoman said.
The bikini-fitting lady and her husband looked at us cheerfully.
“We’re having a party,” I said.
“Mm-hmm,” the lady said.

The groom’s mother, by the way, looked beautiful in a black and gold dress.