Every workplace has its own rules, but have you thought about what the inner workings of a fancy lingerie store are? It seems that there are only so many people who have experienced it from the inside, surrounding the place with a mysterious aura. Somebodysmama has decided to tell what really goes down behind closed lingerie shop doors, and their stories sound like a collection of hilariously intimate journal entries.
“My first job out of high school was at an upscale lingerie store,” they said. “Working [there] was different than I expected.” All in all, they call the experience as a “fun” one. Till it lasted. “I was fired for lates. I was 18 and an idiot, trying to juggle school and work. I wish it had been for something funny.” Scroll down to check out what the bra slinger went through!
“My first job out of high school was at an upscale lingerie store. Here are some of my stories”
“It was a shock that people were permitted to try the undergarments in their bare flesh. Even thongs (which we all know go up where the poopoo comes out) were permitted.”
“Because of this strange and gross practice, we were allowed to “damage out” questionable items once a client left
It was usually a “code brown”, but there are other colors ladies can leave in things (because ladies can be grooooooss)”
“A coworker once screamed “code brown” on the sales floor and I ran to find her pointing at a bulging pair of hanging panties. Stains are one thing, but chunks? I grabbed the trash can, intending to drop it in (hanger and all) and then I saw the gold-flake wrapper and laughed. It was chocolate. A kid had obviously chewed and then spit a whole bar into the crotch of expensive, lacy underwear. Gross, but I don’t blame him. Our chocolate was nasty.”
“It’s widely understood that most women are wearing the wrong size bra, but it was frustrating to discover what boobs look like in a fitting bra. That voluptuous curve of a barely concealed breast peaking over a cup in a lingerie ad is achieved with under-padding in a too-small bra. Convincing women they will not look like that if their bras are comfortable (and still making a sale) took finesse. I’d usually convince them to just buy something skimpy that made them feel amazing for when they took off their all-day boob gear.”
“I was not prepared for how many grieving people would come in to purchase final nightgowns for their beloved mother/wife/sister or daughter for burial. It was often enough that we had an unmarked section of modest nightgowns we curated just for that purpose.”
“My best customer was a man. I would hold one extra-large item of every new style that arrived for him, and he would buy every item he tried on. I say he was my customer, because I was the only one that would let him use the changing room :( it was a less kind time for men like him”
“My second best customer was a “homeless” woman. She was a world-class panhandler, and would often come in wearing her raggedy street attire, but this lady made BANK. Under that grungy coat and tattered sweater she wore our most expensive bras. Things I couldn’t afford.”
“Don’t laugh, but I was shocked by all the boobs. So. Many. Boobs. We had a professional tone and environment that put women at ease like they were getting a spa day, so it was normal for them to flop them out as I was closing the changing room door behind us. The first bridal party I served all crammed together with little me and just disrobed left and right. I ended up in a sea of boobs that all wanted measuring. I was rattled. I eventually became boob blind, but the first few months it always gave me pause when a lady was staring at me with her googly chest eyeballs.”
“So… deodorant. If you want another human to put their face near your cleavage and measure your rib cage, consider some deodorant. And a shower, maybe. Or, if you live that stank life, at least buy something.
It was fun. I was sad when I got fired.
Edit to add: I was fired for lates. I was 18 and an idiot trying to juggle school and work. I wish it had been for something funny.”