This was something I learned back in junior high when I, for
some reason, found myself in a woodshop class. Since then, this sentiment has
been reiterated by all those I love and trust. My father, Julia Childs, Mike
Holmes, and the Make-Up ladies heading the workshop at Mount Sinai Hotel and
Spa. Good tools, they all said, can turn something average into a masterpiece.
The project I’m currently working on is my body, especially
my breasts. For the last eight months, everything has revolved around them.
They’ve been squished, prodded, and investigated by legions of experts and
state-of-the-art machinery. Currently they’re red and rashy, and one of them is
lopsided. My quest is to keep them healthy, and my job is to make them
look good. Since they need a little help from the outside world, my tool of
choice is the perfect bra, and my experts are the ladies at Sophia’s.
Mecca |
Lookin' Good Ladies! |
Sophia was sitting in the corner, quietly reading a book.
Her associate came to greet me and asked what I wanted. I told her that I was tender
and lopsided, and gave her the reason. She glanced over at Sophia, had a brief
discussion, then ran around the store returning with twelve options in her hand.
I told her that I didn’t want anything that resembled a bandage. She put down
four bras. ‘And it’s got to be pretty,’ I said. Sophia mumbled something and
the salesgirl put down all but two bras, which she handed to me.
I headed to the change room to try on my new tools. There
was a soft knock on the door and it was Sophia, gently asking if she could take
a look. Opening the door two inches, I told her I was embarrassed about my
chest-al area and would prefer privacy. Undeterred, she swatted her hand in the
air in a way only a European Mistress-of-Her-Empire can get away with; a
universal signal to cut through all the bulls*it. ‘I’ve seen everything,’ she
told me.
So I let her in and she spun me around gently. She murmured,nodded, adjusted the straps, and repositioned some flesh. The bra felt
pretty good, and I was ready to make a purchase but Sophia cocked her head, and
murmured, ‘No’.
Then she was off, reappearing moments later with a single
bra in her hand. In stillness she watched as I put it on. It had soft straps, a
front closure, cotton inset, and a delicate trim of slutty lace.
It was the perfect tool, and fit like soft glove. Another
job well done. In fact, thanks to a wise Greek woman – a masterpiece.