This morning, for algorithmic reasons beyond my comprehension, a video of a woman squeezing herself into some sort of elastic tube appeared on my social-media feed. Her message, after the tube had turned into a tourniquet around her waist, was that this garment hurt. Well, duh. Call me old-fashioned, but there are a few things I’d rather not see. Or know, such as what this sign means:

I know it costs $4. I know that the number one and “Pcs” don’t match. I don’t want to know what an “ashtray glass bra” is, much less buy or wear one. In case you’re wondering, this sign was in front of a (strapless) jar.

Nor do I care to discuss this sign:

Is $12 the sale price? Or are the bras even cheaper, now that they’re on sale? Are they made of glass ashtrays? Forget I asked. I don’t want to know.

Moral of this post: The Victorians called underwear “unmentionables” for a reason. A good reason.