Wacoal For A Song

I don't know how, but somehow I collected a lot of bras of various sizes over the years.  I used to religiously hit the sales after Christmas and would stock up on my favorite brands, Wacoal and La Perla. 

And then I lost weight.  A lot of weight.  These bras became useless.  I did not give them to the Goodwill or other charity because I was not convinced I would not gain it all back, and there I would be, bra-less.

A couple of years passed and they were still sitting in my drawer.  And then my Marimekko moment kicked in.  eBay, I thought.  They probably won't sell, but hey, why not give it a try?  And so I sorted through them: bands, cups, manufacturers.  I picked a random number to set the price, my thinking being, if they sell, great, if not, off to Goodwill.

I tentatively put the first lot up: 38DD Wacoals.  Now Wacoal is a bit of a strange brand to me.  It is Japanese, and the bras (as one would expect) are high quality, engineered well, and expensive.  Kind of the Lexus of the lingerie world.

Immediately I got watchers.  And then a bid.  And another.  What was the cause of this bidding frenzy?

They sold--my three used (or in eBay parlance "lightly used"), bras for twenty something dollars.  I was amazed.

But my amazement went one step further: the buyer was a man.  What would a man be doing buying my used bras?  No woman I know would want used bras as a gift.

I put another lot up.  "archiejoy" kept the bidding going, but "ny12912" sniped "archiejoy" in the last 15 seconds.  And guess what? "ny12912" was again a man.

Three more lots, and all had male buyers. 

I leave it to your imagination, but if I were just beginning to transition from male to female, or if I were a drag queen or transgendered individual on a strict budget, I know where I would be getting my bras from!

The Lady From Chicago

There is a woman in Chicago, or near Chicago, who I've bought clothing from on several occasions.  I imagine her as grandmotherly, maybe cleaning out closets for a move to a smaller, "more sensible" place.  I think she has a standing appointment to get her hair done every Thursday or Friday at a place she's been going to for years.

My first purchase from her was a grey Akris jacket.  It was priced ridiculously cheap (the way I like things), and she included a little surprize for me--some costume jewelry, the style of which I remember from my childhood.  I was touched.  While I may never wear that jewelry, it was a thoughtful gesture, and I emailed her my thanks.

About six months later, I bought a pair of Akris pants from her.  Again, they were an excellent price, and I was happy to be buying them from her.

They came when I was in the hospital for some surgery.  When I returned home, the box was waiting for me, but I scarcely had the energy to open it. (Amazing what surgery can knock out of you!)  The second day I was home, I summoned my strength and opened the box.  The pants were perfect, and this time, there was again, a little something extra.  This time it was a black wool Armani skirt.  I looked at it in wonder, and thought that it would never fit (European sizing) but by hook or by crook, I was bound and determined to try it on as it was the most elegant skirt I had ever seen.  Awkwardly, and with a bit of pain, I got myself into it.  It fit as if it had been tailor-made for me.  I was astounded on two fronts:  this woman's generousity which could not have come at a better time, and that the skirt fit!

I emailed her and told her of my surgery, and how much that skirt meant to me.  She wrote back a quick note, and just acknowledged that she was glad the skirt fit.  I like to think that she was secretly delighted that that skirt had made me so happy, but I will never know.