The Adventures of Fat Girl Volume II
Trendy? I think not…

Perhaps I am a little out of my element with this one. I mean, if there is anything I am NOT, it's a trendsetter. My typical rule of thumb is if it's comfortable, you're good to go. If I'm feeling particularly fierce, I might wear a snazzy belt or a pair of heels. The majority of the time, I'm a little behind. Since I usually buy on sale, the styles are on their way out by the time they make it to my closet.

That being said, I have started to notice many fashion DON'Ts in the plus size world. Perhaps the natural beauties of this world don't realize that other people have, well, eyes…and can see these fatal mistakes. I, being the fat girl that I am, have taken it upon myself to point them out.

Lets start with the muffin tops. What is this you might ask? Well, I'll be happy to explain. Imagine the hottest pair of jeans you can squeeze your ass into. Yes, that's right. Those stonewashed, slightly distressed low riders on that manequin over there. Paired with just the right sexy tank, they would make any diva rock with style…unless that diva is a size 20…and the jeans are a size 12. You've all seen it, the "flow" of the hips and belly as they make their way over the waistband of these jeans. Yes ladies, this is the muffin top. All at once, it looks like something is baking out of your pants. To make matters worse, that frilly tank you picked out is much to small…nowhere near big enough to contain the "girls" let alone your culinary masterpiece. For the love of god, wear a pair of pants that fit.

Speaking of the girls, have you ever had trouble looking another woman in the eye because her cleavage is actually SPEAKING to you?? Now, I'm probably the last person who should be commenting on this. I am a huge fan of low cut tops and sexy wraps…however, there is a fine line between sexy, and stripper. Yes, you know who you are. If your breasts have managed to merge with the underside of your arms, you need a new bra…and possibly a bigger shirt.

Lets take a trip down south, shall we?? To the island of "Thunder Thighs". Yes ma'am, I have 'em. They are large and in charge and have very many functions. One of them is NOT coming out to say hello on a breezy afternoon. JUST SAY NO to shorts where your thighs enter the room before you do. I think we can apply this rule to any situation involving shorts…if, by the time you get from your car door to your gas tank, you are chaffing, you probably need more material. Just a word to the wise, chaffing is not fun. And the fancy powder-gel they advertise on the size 2 model…it doesn't work. Just buy longer shorts.

It's clubbin' time ladies. And that means pulling every hot piece of clothing you have out of the closet for your own personal fashion show. Lets take a look, shall we?? Why what do we have here…is that…why it couldn't be…it's a CATSUIT. Lord have mercy, the curves are a flowin' tonight. I have never witnessed anything more hideous in my life. Let me tell you a little story. I was planning to go party with some of my friends recently and needed something cute to wear. A young lady I work with is roughly my size (by roughly I mean BIGGER), so I thought I'd ask to raid her closet. As soon as a mention I am heading downtown to club hop, she pulls out this brown and gold 1 piece pantsuit. I should probably mention here that it is actually a TUBE pantsuit. So the batwings aren't even covered. The twins barley make it into the top before she is tying some sparkling accent belt around my waist. Now, she had mentioned that the pants part of all this were a gaucho style, so I was hoping we at least had something good going. No such luck. The only flare I saw was at my knee. I waddled into the bathroom to take a look and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. I looked like sausage stuffed into a brown and gold casing. I tried very hard not to cry. Not for me of course, I'd never be caught dead in the thing. No, my tears came when I thought of miss thang over there shakin it to Ciara whilst trying to keep her gazoongas from killing some poor innocent bystander. Not to mention the fact that my ass was suddenly assigned it's own area code. Needless to say, the outfit went back into her closet and I walked away empty handed…but not without a new appreciation for muffin tops.