The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain (jenni_the_odd) wrote,
The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain
jenni_the_odd

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Only in our house is the phrase "and now, the nipples!" commonly used...

Reasons Why I Love My Friends List, #28691:
At The Time Of This Writing, no less than six people have mentioned the death of Fay Wray. And they have all done it with Rocky Horror lyrics.

StockingsHQ rocks my pants SO MUCH. Especially the stripey fishnet stockings (they're under New Products, 7th on the list). They are HAWT, and I want a pair very much, but they are so much the pricey. Am tempted to reverse camwhore: "I will put one article of clothing back on for every $5 you send!"

Dear Clothing Designers: Please make hoodies that are not velour or (ugh) terrycloth. Some of us do not want to feel like we are wearing towels or the skins of Beanie Babies we have defeated in battle. And a length longer than 25" would be wonderful. Some of us are tall and long-torsoed in addition to being fat, and prefer to use jackets and hoodies to hide our size rather than broadcast "HEY WORLD, CHECK OUT MY GUT".
Also, please stop referring to "plus sizes" as "goddess size", "woman size", "real woman size", etc. sizes. Just say "FATTY CLOTHES". Please? You're making me feel like I should be one of those Earth Mother types who is proportioned in a vaguely normal fashion and looks hot in most clothes. I'm not. I'm shaped like a ball of blubber on legs. I believe my body is designed to be hidden, not celebrated, and certainly not showcased in anything fuzzy or (god forbid) shiny. Also, several of those names lend themselves to the eerie implication that no one under a size 12 is actually a 'real woman'. If this is the case, what are they? Robots? Aliens? Rather shapely men who are very good with makeup?
When Tish and I take over the fashion world, our larger sizes will be called "The Butter Collection". It will feature "Wide Load" jeans, "Fat 'n Sassy" dresses, "Bootylicious" knickers* and "Yay, Boobs!" bras.
Our ads will read something like this:
So you have a hard time finding clothes because you're a little voluptuous. Rubenesque. Bountiful. Big and Beautiful. Womanly. Curvy. You're a Goddess. You're Real.
Or maybe, just maybe - you're a Fatass.
That's right, I said it. You know you were thinking the same thing. Admit it - all of the above are just polite euphemisms for "Fat", and they just mean "clothing in the approximate shape of a tent to cover up your god-awful lumpy, flabby body until you stop eating and get thee to a gym so you can shop in the misses department".
**** that.
Fatties can be hotties. Your clothes can be sexy. You don't have to pay twice as much for an extra square foot of fabric. You don't have to wear a small circus tent. You don't have to dress like your grandmother.
So stop looking at the ground, take off that shapeless sack, and embrace the fat - it's nice and squishy.


Hey, I never said I would write ads for a living. But you get the idea.

Also of interest (to, well, probably not many of you):
I don't know why, but I keep getting caught in traffic behind kissing couples - I have mentioned this before. Apparently this happens to me more than to most people. Perhaps I secrete some sort of pheremone... Well, on Saturday I thought the couple in front of me was going to start tearing off each other's clothes - I was so tempted to honk. But the light changed, I moved on, and I thought surely that would be the worst of it. But no.  Sunday, I'm behind what I think is ONE person in the car. When suddenly a woman's head pops up from his lap, she wipes her mouth, and then disappears again. He changed lanes, I wound up next to them, confirmed my suspicions, and continued to pretend not to notice the guy getting road head next to me. This was made only slightly more awkward by Houston traffic, which conspired to keep me next to them for five to ten minutes.
It started off as me being behind chastely kissing couples at stoplights, but I am rather worried about what's next in this seemingly inevitable progression of sex acts in the vehicles in front of me. 

*Stolen from the delightful Brits because the word "panties" bothers me more and more every day.
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