Let us get visceral, because the lingerie trade is a visceral one. The old nightmare involved a stain. The new nightmare involves a biome.
Not a different color. Not a different size. A different universe . One where bras are comfortable, straps don’t fall down, and the laws of physics allow for both lift and breathability.
Not her .
Then comes the silence. The dreaded mid-fitting silence where the customer stares into the three-way mirror and starts questioning her entire anatomical history.

