The Best for the Breast

Alba 1Alba Salas is a miracle worker. She is the person that celebrities and television shows call when they need an expert. Alba has been working with women’s luxury lingerie/ready to wear apparel for over 25 years. You will probably recognize Alba – a pint size, powerhouse with a sparkling smiling – if you are a fan of The Meredith Vieira Show. She’s been their on camera bra expert since September 2014 and was most recently featured again just last month. Over the years Alba has assisted the likes of Bette Midler and Kathleen Turner to name just a few.

I was at the Town Shop last week where Alba hails as the Breast Support Expert. She is the Best of the Breast! I had been noticing my bras were no longer doing their job for my formerly perky breasts. After a split second with Alba, before I even removed my blouse, I learned that apparently both my bras and my breasts were losing elasticity – not a good combination! I was also wearing the wrong size bra. Alba knew all of this just from first glance – she doesn’t need a tape measure and in many cases she knows the problem before your top comes off and she see your “girls”. I felt like a total idiot until Alba told me that 80% of women are wearing the wrong size bra!

Bette-Midler
The shop dressing room was filled with women of all ages and sizes and a model or two all being fitted. The atmosphere was warm, friendly and jovial. If you’re having issues with your breasts or your bras she can help. Whether you need to lift, reduce or maximize, are dealing with back flab, side flab, unruly or asymmetrical breasts, Alba will help you find the perfect fit!
I watched Alba work her magic as a number of women left feeling thinner, taller, smaller, fuller and more confident. The right size bra can do all of those things!
As i tried on the navy blue Wacoal bra Alba chose for me in a 32C she showed me how to adjust my bosom to create the perfect cleavage. As I compliment my youthful  reflection in the full length mirror, Alba stepped back and said, “My job is done.”
Look for Alba on an upcoming segment of The Real Housewives of New York City in 2016!

Over the years, the Town Shop has become the most famous lingerie store in New York City.  They specialize in lingerie, and more specifically and especially the delicate art of fitting by Alba.  This exceptional level of customer service has been the key to our success for over four generations.

The Town Shop carries every type of bra you could be looking for, from sizes AA to K.  They feature an expansive variety of products, including everyday basics, super sexy lingerie, comfy nursing bras and modern maternity wear. The Town Shop also provides a wide selection of swimwear, sleeper, shape wear, hosiery and accessories. They have been named New York Magazine’s “The Best of New York” as the “Best Place to be Fitted for a Bra”. Stop by and you’ll understand why. Say hi to Alba for me!

o-2The Town Shop is located at:

2270 Broadway
New York, NY 10024
Located between 81st and 82nd Street  Phone: 212-724-8160
Monday – Friday        10:00 AM to 7:00 PM
Saturday                      9:30 AM to 6:00 PM
Sunday                      11:00 AM to 6:00 PM

If you’re not in NYC you can find the Town Shop Online at: TownShop.com

Remember – You’ll always have support at The Town Shop!

The World is Flat (and so am I)

shutterstock_138076832-300x282This great piece is from my friend’s new blog. If you’re a woman with breasts, I’m sure you can relate. I know I can! If you’re a man, maybe you’ll learn something.

I found out that I was flat-chested in 6th grade. I am both naive and a slow learner; however, when I looked at the other girls changing out of their gym clothes, I couldn’t miss the obvious: I was the only girl wearing a tee-shirt and Grandma pull-up cotton panties. All the other girls in my class were strutting around the locker room in their matching bras and panties.

Apparently, I missed the memo.

After school, I had a clear mission in which I would get a training bra, too. But first, I had to go through my mother. See, my mother was old-school, tough as nails, parochial-schooled Shanty-Irish-Catholic ruler with an iron fist and a biting tongue. No poetic blarney ever came from her; she fancied herself a straight-shooter and you either withstood her heat-seeking missiles or you hid.

I opted to approach her after dinner, after the eight of us sat down to a home-cooked meal, after the dishes had been cleared, the leftovers lovingly stored away to later metamorph into something vaguely recognizable in a day or two, and the pots and pans were scoured, dried, and put away.

The next phase of the evening was homework, but I had been honing my speech (my plea, actually) since school let out and during the 3:00-4:00 soap opera, “The Guiding Light.” My plan was simple and reckless: just get my mother alone and ask her to bring me to The Mart for…mumble…mumble…, which is where I lost my nerve based on her lack of accessibility, interest, or investment in my crisis du jour.

But, I prevailed and blurted that I, “…desperately needed a bra…no one in my gym class was wearing tee-shirts any more…and I needed her to buy me a bra that very night.”Teenform-Training-collectible-5811--711x1024

She stepped back to gain perspective. Looked at me with a critical and jaundiced eye, and proclaimed, “but you don’t need one: you haven’t developed yet.” I admit I’ve suppressed what came next. I know there was no blood. There may have been teeth-gnashing, rending clothes, pulling hanks of hair out and such histrionics, but what I do remember is that we did get in the car with the intention of getting me an unnecessary training bra (her words, not mine).

So. The Mart: old school department store. Some fossils had been there since the ribbon-cutting ceremony. Grease, carbon-dated hot dogs, and rancid popcorn butter added to its dubious allure. But to me, it was Nirvana, I was going to get a bra, wear it the next day, and casually and pointedly change in full view of the other girls so I could show them I belonged to the pack.

Couldn’t have written the script for what happened next, though.

The Mart was a small-town department store in which there was no clear division (walls) between departments. Ladies lingerie may as well been next to fishing tackle, which may as well been next to the snack bar. It was a bargain-basement store and what you see was what you got.

Well, the whole store got an eye full when my mother stopped rummaging through bras, mumbling, “28A, 28A, 28A.” She handed me this stripped-down, sexless, utilitarian scrap of fabric and told me to try it on. I asked her where the dressing rooms were. She shot me a funny look and said, “No, just try it on over your clothes.”59b327d3146ac972cbc1b942931e4544

That phrase still reverberates nearly 40 years later.

The only way I was going to score this bra was to stand in the middle of the store, in the center of the aisle, next to machinists and housewives, and sniggering teens and try on that Goddamned bra.

And I did it. And I’m not proud of it. Sweat was pouring down my back from the humiliation. I must have smelled like a locker room, but I did it: pride be damned. I took off my jacket, unhooked the bra, wrapped it around my chest, and adjusted it while I stood rooted to the spot while my mother adjusted my breasts in full view of the other shoppers. And…lest we forget, she was saying, “…well, you know you don’t really need one….”

She did buy it for me but by that time, it could have been a hair shirt. I wore my new bra to school the next day to gym class. Made sure I was noticed while changing, but no one noticed it. No acknowledgement. No comments. Things were no different than the day before: other than my mother was $6.00 poorer and I was 100% more bitter and cynical.

That’s how I learned I was flat-chested and would remain so. Luckily, I hadn’t been exposed to any snide remarks or jokes…but it was merely a matter of time.

Please find more from sweenbeaner at http://www.sweenbeaner@wordpress.com

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