It’s so bad that my fiancée has some bras that say she’s a B cup and others that says she’s a D cup. In order to go bra shopping, you have to actually try them on to find out if they fit.
If I had to try on underwear to see if they fit, I might not bother with underwear at all!
4, listening to my mom bitch about bra shopping on a bench in JC Penny’s to my nieces.
Big women with big busts had a pretty hard time finding shit in the 90s.