I have always worn M&S bras and have been complaining that they don’t make them like they used to, muttering darkly about   carrier bag and elastic band designs that offer no support. I formally apologise to M&S. It is my mutant breasts that are the problem, not their bras.

My Rigby and Peller session started with stripping off to the waist. I worried needlessly about whether they warm up their measuring tapes, because they don’t use them.  Fitters measure just by looking at you.

It took three and a half minutes for mine, called Dulcie,  to size me up. During that time I gibbered. This is my speciality when I am nervous and naked to the waist in front of a stranger. I told Dulcie my star sign, my shoe size, my blood group. I apologised that my right breast was long and droopy and that it used to be hairy. I told her that I loved creme  caramel and that my favourite book was Small Island and that my husband enjoys ping pong. 

She smiled a lot and excused herself. I was fighting for breath after my express confessional and I fully expected her to come back with a straight-jacket.  But no, Dulcie had a selection of bras for me to try. To get into them I was instructed to lean very far forward – imagine trying to lower your breasts into two milk saucepans side by side on a coffee table – that was the pose. Dulcie sort of climbed  on my back and grappled from behind to slap and wobble my breasts into the bra cups. It was a long way from ballet and there was a lot of grunting, too.

When I stood up I noticed that my hair looked like Einstein’s and my face was the colour of  ketchup and even the serene Dulcie was flushed, but with success.  My breasts were so close to my face I could have kissed my nipples. The bras I bought should be paid for by 2014 (they’re not cheap) but what cost a major miracle ?

 ps: they are to be hand washed  but having seen the results I would have bought them even if they were dry clean only