When I was in high school, I used to hate that my body didn’t look like all the other girls’. My jeans always fit a little too snugly in the rear, which embarrassed me, because boys occasionally checked me out and no doubt they thought I dressed that way on purpose. “I didn’t ask for this butt!” I wanted to tell my girlfriends, who all had average-sized rear ends.
Over the years I’ve made peace with my body, mostly. But wandering around with Crayton in the Zona Rosa on Saturday night, I noticed a few mannequins that were crying out for some Sir Mix-A-Lot companionship. Actually, I think my exact words to Crayton were, “DUDE! Do you see this? I gotta get a picture!”
At that moment, I felt a twinge of pride. Mexico loves voluptuous women and that just so happens to be me. Thank you, bodacious mannequins.
Por fa! You’re too skinny to be voluptuous! (At least how I define it, which is a lot more curvy than these ladies, perhaps because I am a lot more curvy than these ladies…)
Ay México. The originator of the “calzones con pompís”
Joy: I guess voluptuous is relative, depending on what country you live in. But I’d definitely say I’m curvy by American standards, because it’s still hard for me to find American clothes that fit. Pants are always, ALWAYS too tight in the rear and thigh area. Skirts that fit my lower half are always too large in the waist. I don’t know who American designers are designing for (perhaps a woman who looks like a 12-year-old girl?) but it’s not me.