If I win the lotto, the first thing I will do is run off to the Rigby and Peller underwear shop and get all fitted out. The women there are supposedly magical in their ability to find the perfect fitting undies just by looking at you. This does remind me of Christopher, the odious boy who in my 6th form was able to tell what bra size each girl was.
I've just spent an uncomfortable morning in Thamesmead shopping centre trying to buy shoes and cake decorations while my bra held me in a vice like grip. No matter how I squirmed, it was making me very irritable and I couldn't stand the slow-stand-at-corner-of-aisles shoppers around Morrisons. I only went in there to pick up cake stuff (best place for cakey things methinks).
As soon as I got home, off came the offending piece of clothing and whoooosh, gravity did it's thing and down I flopped with relief.
Obviously, the real reason for my discomfort was not the bra but the stupid BBC mobile weather page which even now states that at 10.00am heavy rain showers- leading to our cancelling a trip into town. Not even seen a drop of rain and spent some time sweltering in our heavy rain gear. It would be so bloody marvellous if they got it right for a change. Though sun is always a bonus. Going to sit in the garden now.