Memoirs of a Fat Girl

After my second to last gown fitting this past August, I was so happy with my slimmer waistline and all the progress I’d made, that I rewarded myself.

Nothing makes a girl feel sexier than lingerie. Not just any lingerie either, but Princesse Tam Tam. It’s not terribly healthy for the budget, but a small price to pay to look and feel so… provocatively alluring, to say the least.

It wasn’t a planned purchase, but moms needed some special underthings for her own wedding outfit, and we made a stop at a boutique lingerie store that day. The second I saw the matching bra and undies set on the mannequin over the cash, I knew it was coming home. No matter what the tag said.

I liked it so much because it wasn’t like the standard, assembly line sexuality showcased in shopping mall lingerie store windows. This set was different: Daisy Duke meets Memoirs of a Geisha over Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I imagine they’d be having Brie and honeyed fig sandwiches with martinis for that breakfast.

Fiery yet sweet. I knew it was for me, and so I bought it on the spot. I also bought it a few sizes smaller, because that’s what girls like me do. Big(ger) girls wanting to become small(er) girls buy littler things, because we want something to look forward to. After all, we have that grand vision of, “one day.”

Here’s my grand vision in a nutshell, edited for your own good: Me, Sandy, Princesse Tam Tam. Throw in some pearls, and I watch his socks fly off. Romantic escapades ensue.

In my ideal world, the past four months have been time and enough to finish what I started, and I am now my dream size. In this ideal world I am the sexy bombshell who’s worn Princesse Tam Tam lingerie for her boyfriend, and made his socks fly off.

In the real world, I am at a standstill.