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When I was in high school I was hired to work in the lingerie store at the mall near my house. The thing that strikes me most on looking back is that all the other employees had very big hair. Or rather, they had very tall hair. There was a lot of back combing and spraying of the hair so that their bangs rose straight out of their foreheads. My hair is very flat and lies close to my head. This was one of the first things that I noticed that set me apart from my fellow panty-hawkers. The second thing that set me apart was that my chest was nearly as flat as my hair.

One of the first questions I was asked in the interview was what my bra size was. At the time I had no idea. The only bra that I owned was one that I never wore and I am pretty sure counted as a "training bra." I paused a little too long before answering and the woman interviewing me (an Asian lady with the most impressive afro-perm hairdo) sighed exasperatedly and said "come here" as she grabbed me around the rib cage and proceeded to pat my chest and breasts in the most perfunctory manner. "34A" she stated in much the same way a bus driver tells a passenger what the required fare is. I laughed uncomfortably: "Yup" I agreed "34A, that's what I always wear!"

My interviewer explained the dress code of the store to me. The word "classy" came up a lot, and "conservative." We were required to wear blouses and skirts in conservative colours and styles and were strictly forbidden from wearing knits. On Sundays we were permitted to wear exposed lingerie for our entire shift. That's right. You heard it here first. If you wanted to work in a flannel nightie on Sunday, you could. If you wanted to wear the trashy polyester teddy with matching booties, that was cool too. I was stunned by the juxtaposition. Torn between my concern over not owning anything that could remotely be called lingerie and the idea of working a shift in my underwear in a mall where my friends shopped. At least they had bathrobes, I consoled myself.

The essence of the job seemed to be that we should approach every customer and offer them assistance or make small talk about the weather. Then the formula dictated that we should ridicule them once they left, especially if they bought something. The sexier the item the more repulsed we should act. This applied in particular to the regulars. And with especial vehemence to the regulars who weren't suitably ashamed of purchasing lingerie. There was a remarkably Victorian feeling to working in a lingerie store. Clearly what we are selling is designed to be sexy and yet there was an almost conscious effort to talk around that. For example, there was specific language that we were required to use when talking about the merchandise. We were never to say "underpants" but rather to always call them "panties." A thong was not a thong, nor was it a "g-string", rather it was a "tanga".

Needless to say that I didn't last long at the lingerie store. On my last day a man and woman walked into the store. I could tell that she was a regular by the mountains of synthetic hair she was sporting and her short vinyl skirt. I was tailing the pair waiting to offer assistance or make some small talk about the weather when the man, unaware that I was standing right behind him, whispered to the woman "It smells like pubic hair in here." I couldn't resist "Oh!" I exclaimed "That's what that smell is!" The couple whirled around. The woman was furious with her partner. It was clearly too late for me to ask them if it was raining. She dragged him out of the store. I was reprimanded for scaring away regulars. The woman who interviewed me took me to the food court. While she simultaneously ate an ice cream and smoked a cigarette, she fired me. She was one hell of a multi-tasker. Sometimes I still shop at the store I used to work at. The girls still wear conservative skirts and blouses, the store still smells the same, the only differences are that now I fill a bra and don't let any strangers pat my chest.

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Permalink: Never say 'Underpants'. Always Call Them 'Panties'. by Rusty Valentine

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