Last time I visited the store, five years ago, I was getting fitted for the "foundation garments" for my wedding. I went kicking and screaming, only after my dear friend Susan, an internationally-renowned costume designer, insisted that the success of the custom-designed ensemble -- flowery silk pants and a velvet top inspired by Grace Kelly -- would largely depend upon the proper "foundation garments."

That full-up trussing was okay for a day. Five years later, I couldn't even bear the minimum requirements. I was fed up with the daily pinching, constricting, and slipping.

At Petticoat Fair, Emily was sympathetic. She quickly got me into the right model, and we had a couple of good girl-laughs along the way.

But even in my new, properly fitting model, I started to tug. "See!" I shrieked, "I can't stop."

Emily commiserated. We discussed, and decided that the tug is just a bad habit we pick up along the way, when the size isn't right. If the bra fits, there is no need to tug.

The tug is a sign. Whether we are tugging at a bra, or at a job, or at a relationship, it's a sign that something doesn't fit.

All too often we try to tough it out in a situation that's not a good match for us, because we're so darned resilient, persistent, and maybe a tad bit fearful to actually address the situation.

But why keep tugging at something that simply isn't a good fit? No amount of tugging is going to change the essential discomfort. I don't think that Emily's expertise extends beyond the lingerie drawer, so you're on your own here. It's time to pay attention and ask good questions.

Questions to ask yourself: What is it exactly that you're tugging at? What's causing the discomfort? How can you alter the fit? If you cannot alter the fit, then what are your options?