Summary
I'm in the mood to stage a protest, with banners and marchers and "We Shall Overcome" sung in harmony by women carrying placards. Problem is, I can't afford to go to New York City or Paris, which is where the protest would be held ... in front of fashion design salons.
I think large women's clothing must be designed by a bunch of men who hate women. Maybe their mothers didn't breast feed them long enough, or too long, or whatever. To give the illusion of feminine input, they open their Good Ol' Boys Club to a chosen few models ... all of them 6 feet tall, so skinny they don't cast a shadow, and haughtily beautiful. They brainstorm for hours: "Leather pants? You think? I don't know ... you get all that leather squeaking when they walk and it'll sound like saddling up at the OK Corral." The man across the table says, "What the heck! If they bought that thong underwear line last spring, they'll buy anything!" Another designer suggests, "Hey, RED leather! With brass studs for trim!" Then they send out for lunch: massive sandwiches for the designers, breath mint and mineral water for the token females.See the full content of this document
Extract
Dear Designers: Please Be Nicer to Big Mama
The trigger for all this ire was my search for a nice pants outfit. I'd see one that was perfect ... slimming jacket, flattering color ... and then I'd discover the...
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