Greenpoint Photo du Jour: Norman Avenue

October 4, 2008 by missheather
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic

Who says mom’s trip to the beauty parlor can’t be fun? This young gentleman (who I have dubbed “Roller Finger”) has the right attitude!

Miss Heather

P.S.: Years ago I made the mistake of having my best friend from high school be my college roommate. Before our friendship went to hell in a hand basket (as a consequence) we’d do things together. Lighting “jumping jacks”, tossing them in the toilet and photographing the results was my favorite avocation; shopping at Victoria’s Secret was hers. “Mickey” took her femininity very seriously. I seriously couldn’t give a shit. Hellraising is much more fun. But I digress.

One day I found myself at a Victoria’s Secret store in some nameless, faceless mall in north Texas.

ASIDE: I find Frederick’s of Hollywood charming in a kitschy kind of way. At least they acknowledge the life blood of their business: sex. Victoria’s Secret by comparison is, well, VICTORIAN. Patrolled by Frau Bluckeresque saleswomen who’d probably beat you with a ruler if given half the chance.

But back to my story.

Nary a pasty, flavored lube or a pair of men’s “novelty underwear” (usually involving elephants or giraffes) was to be found that day. I had to find another avenue for entertainment. Interesting things happen when I get bored. In this case I decided to find the biggest bra they had in stock. Hilarity ensued.

Saleswoman: Excuse me, can I help you?
Miss Heather: No, I’m alright.
Salewoman: The bras “in your size” are over there (pointing to the “pirate’s delight”* section).
Miss Heather: I know. I just want to see the biggest boulder holder you have in stock.

She left me alone after that. I later told “Mickey” what I did. She didn’t think it was very funny.

*Sunken chest.

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Comments

One Comment on Greenpoint Photo du Jour: Norman Avenue

amandabee on Mon, 6th Oct 2008 10:49 am

The last time I was inside a Vicky’s Secret I would have killed for Frau Blucker. I had money on a gift card as a result of … (no, I’d never return a gift from Victoria’s Secret! I swear!) and was hoping I could get something useful. Not a pushup bra (the last thing I need is more boob). I wanted a half slip. Because I had lost mine (found it) and I needed one, and it seemed like the kind of basic undergarment a store that specializes in Women’s Underthings might actually carry. No.

No less than three sales clerks stared blankly at me when I said “half-slip.” Or even “slip” — they pointed me towards some jersey knit nightshirts that are shaped like slips but made out of old t-shirts (???) but not one of them seemed to even know what I meant by “half slip.” Does no one wear slips anymore???

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