There’s a quaint little shop that’s opened up in my ‘hood that I’ve discovered I enjoy. Though it has no knowledge of two whole cakes it does carry whatever my fellow hoodlums sell or trade in. In bright green and annoying font I passed by grudgingly, surely they’d have nothing for me. I had just discovered a decent Goodwill, my thrifting was complete! But lo, after a friend gallantly shoved me through the doors I discovered…..Torrid pre-pink.
While an entire post could be dedicated to Torrid’s pre-pink days and my love for whomever brought in their pre-pink items, I digress. I was pretty pumped to walk into a neighborhood trendier-than-thou shop and find things in my size. Granted I found all of 3 things in my size but that’s a Big Deal in the fat thrifting world. Aside from a few amazing vintage hunters (Cupcake and Cuddlebunny, Re/Dress, a few I’m leaving out on accident) and your local fatswap, thrifting in the fat world can be downright depressing.
So here I am, finding some dresses, trying them on, loving one. One fit amazing from the under-boob down. I mean really amazing. I wanted to pull out the knee-high boots and flogger and hop on over to somewhere dirty, perverted and happy. The rub? Side boob. Lots of it. I mean talk about boobage. My G-cups weren’t running over necessarily, more like storming the gates…and taking the underarm fabric with ‘em.
I walked around that hipster haven and asked several women what they thought of the dress. M’eh was the overall opinion, side boob was the culprit. Yet the cleavage was excellent. Got me to thinking….why the front and not the side? Is this the bastardized cousin of the mullet? What gives?
Then I bought the dress. I had lofty ideals of reformatting it into something more lacy on top, maybe some fantabulous black lace additions, something chic and slutty. Instead, I’m embracing my side boob. I want a side boob revolution.
Comments are closed.