No one has ever called me petite . . . not even when I was born. In fact, the nurses took ta calling my mom the “Oooh-Ahh Bird,” even though I didn’t get the joke until I was older. The fact of the matter is, folks, that I’m larger than large . . . somewhere between huge and “Oh, my God,” leaning just a teensy bit toward the latter. Now I figure when you’re my size there’s no way to hide it, so you might as well flaunt it… and, believe me, I’ve become an expert on flauntin’ it.
Take for example my chosen attire for the day. Now a lot of girls moan that unless you got a perfect figure, you can’t wear a bare midriff outfit. Well, I’ve proven over and over again that that just isn’t so, and today was no exception. The top was a bright lime green with purple piping, which was a nice contrast to the orange-and-redstriped bottoms. While I feel there’s nothing wrong with going barefoot, I found these darling turquoise harem slippers and couldn’t resist addin’ them to the ensemble. Of course, with that much color on the bod, a girl can’t neglect her makeup. I was usin’ violet lipstick accented by mauve eye shadow and screaming yellow nail polish, with just a touch of rouge to hide the fact that I’m not gettin’ any younger. I’d thought of dyein’ my hair electric blue instead of its normal orange, but decided I’d stick with the natural look.
Now, some folks ask where I find outfits like that. Well, if ya can keep a secret, I have a lot of ‘em made especially for me. Face it, ya don’t find clothes like these on the rack … or if ya do, they never fit right. Be sure ta keep that a secret, though. The designers I patronize insist that no one ever find out… probably afraid they’ll get swamped with orders. They never put their labels in my clothes for the same reason. Even though I’ve promised not to breathe a word to anybody, they’re afraid someone might find out by accident … or was that in an accident? Whatever.