Dear Woman In the Lohman's Dressing Room,

I understand what month it is. I know what October means to women (and some very special men), and believe me, I am an advocate of the cause to raise awareness for breast cancer. What I am not, in any way, shape, or form, an advocate of is how you decided not to wear a bra while in the dressing room. (Perhaps my next Dear Life letter should be to Lohman's, whose store has one communal dressing room, without any form of curtains or walls to offer privacy for those stripping to purchase their wares.) And since the room is floor to ceiling mirrors, though I tried as hard as I could to keep my eyes trained on my adorable grey skirt for only $19.99, due to a sad entity of physics known as reflections, I caught several very unfortunate glimpses of your lovely lady lumps.

Seriously, you were like 40, and I'd think at that age you'd out grown the bra burning phase. And your humps were not so small that they honestly didn't need a bra, nor were they so big that a woman would go bra-less and strip in a communal dressing room to show them off. I'm quite proud of my own, but instead of letting the girls catch some fresh air, they were conservatively contained in something known as a braissiere-- you should check into that.

Ta-Ta,
Ace