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So, there’s nothing like a photo shoot to make a girl pick, pick, pick. Really. I’m THAT large? Hello Jonah, this is your whale calling.

Gah. I know, I know. This is NOT a lament about size. (I look forward to your comments) This is not a pitch for all those soothing noises you can make. It’s just an observation. Taking your own darn photo is hard… taking dozens of them with a timer and a wonky tripod is a chore. . . taking photos that need to include your product artfully displayed while you wear a dress made out of the WORLD WORST FABRIC makes a girl critical and just a bit grumpy.

I’m posting the photo under the jump, because I don’t want to stare at it.

Don’t worry… if the article gets published this is NOT the photo I sent to be included. I’m vain, not stupid.

The crazy thing is, and it is crazy, but I feel pretty darn sexy in this sack of a dress. The fabric really is sad. The neckline has already assumed wonky just from stretching it across my pitiful bust-line. Boobs my size shouldn’t assault anything. And I don’t want to talk about the hemline. It needs a belt. I look 5 months pregnant in the photos.

And while I could go around telling people I’m 5 months pregnant… that lie is gonna catch up to me sooner than later.

It’s all wrong, wrong, wrong, but it feels so right. Maybe it was the shoes and my pasty white legs that made me feel all “I’m a model, you know what I mean. And I do my little turn on the catwalk.”

Or, I’m just crazy.

I will be remaking this dress in something that can properly be labeled “fabric.” Until then, if you see me in this dress please come congratulate me. I think we’re having a boy.

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