Why Retail Is Dying

Yesterday, I was attempting to purchase a breastfeeding bra when the sales assistant approached me and said "You look lost".

"No, I'm not", I replied. "I'm simply trying to buy an attractive, yet supportive and comfortable feeding bra, something I would imagine there would be some demand for, and as stunning as it may be to you, the perplexed, dismayed look on my face is not one of astonishment at the breadth and complexity of your product range, therefore requiring the expertise and mastery of one such as yourself to gently guide me through it. It is sheer fucking frustration at your mediocre little range of maternity bras in this, purportedly Australia's largest lingerie retailer; annoyance that all you can offer are a few dull, unsupportive bras in a choice of beige or black only, and in a completely inadequate range of sizes - I'd make an educated guess that at least 40% women require a bra larger that what you have on offer. I guess stocking a decent range of maternity bras would reduce the amount of floor space available to sell your french maid and naughty nurse costumes. Sure, maternity bras aren't as sexy as the outfits you flog to fake-tanned twenty year olds to titillate their gormless boyfriends with the perpetuation of female stereotypes, but given that I would hope many women would spend at least as much time breastfeeding as following the advice of Cosmo articles on how to excite your man, then providing a decent maternity lingerie range would make sense form a business point of view, even if it did detract somewhat from your desired "naughty", hip young image. And given all this, I find it frankly condescending and a little rude that you act like the problem is on my end, not yours."

Well, that's what I should have said. Instead I said "Sorry, you don't have what I'm after", and walked out. Damn.

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