Dear bathing suit and bra designers,
After my experience trying on your products recently, I would like to thank you for making it clear to me why marijuana should be legal in California. I know you’ll agree, as you must be on drugs to have put these garments together and there is simply no way a sober person could appreciate the talent that has gone into these items. I did research in advance, in an attempt to learn which styles and colors would most flatter my body type. It turns out that thanks to your hard work, this was unnecessary. Every bathing suit — and I tried on at least a dozen before collapsing from emotion — perfectly accented a body part. The stripes, how they take away any hint of a waist! The back, how it spooges fat! Oh, the ampleness of my breasts — all four of them thanks to the cut of your tankini top! It was truly an other-worldly experience.
Bra makers, I have not forgotten you. All I needed was a bra to accommodate a plunging cocktail dress. But great bra designers, you know what I need before even I do. As I dug through racks of sexy, lacy bras that would work under the dress, and failed to find my size, it slowly dawned on me: I am not worthy of an attractive bra. You have determined this for me so that I may be spared any decision making. To my immediate right, separated from the lovely lingerie, was a rack of over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders. They whispered in my ear, “Summer, a lady of your circumference cannot wear sexy bras. Pick one of us, and then find a muumuu from the Mature Woman department.” Thank you, designers, for bringing reality to me in a dressing room. I’m truly unable to imagine what life would be like without you determining so much for me.