And it belongs to you.
No, not you.
The other you.
You know who you are. Yeah, you.
Is it because I’m big boobed?
Are you intentionally ignoring the IBT market?
Are you harboring some maternal anger for being or not being breast fed as baby?
The region that encompasses my chest might be larger than most, but does that give you the right to use it?
I think not.
I have been shopping in vain for some new blouses, shirts, tents, or whatever you want to call them.
99.99999% of the choices available in my size are actually maps of cities or countries disguised as clothing.
If I took the shirt off and lay it out flat I could use it as my GPS instead of paying Tom and his brother Tom to navigate.
I have enough weight to carry around. I don’t need the additional weight of buildings, cathedrals, roads, and vehicles on my chest.
Is there not some designer somewhere who creates shirts for the well endowed that has not traveled the world and wants to do a slide show on my chest? Speak up now, because I can’t find you.
For those designers hiding in the bushes, I say, stop taking pictures. Huge hibiscus flowers, patios, butterflies, and other flora and fauna do not belong on my chest.
They are butt a$$ ugly.
That goes double for those stuck in the sixties. Paisley and plaid are out. They do nothing to flatter large busted women. Worse than that, they annoy us. If I ever get my hands on you I am going to commit homicide upon your warped pharmaceutically occupied mind.
Solid colors people!
Has the world run out of dye and fabric?
Can you not design with solid colors?
Did someone steal your box of crayons?
Just because I am a well endowed woman eligible for discounts everywhere I shop does not mean I have lost my good sense or my desire for something stylish.
My spillage to the bosom area is more attractive than the shirts you design, and I’m not even trying to design wearable art.
It angers me when I see Paris, Italy, the beach and other world travel destinations on my shirt.
I hate to shop. Your fashion sense does not add to an already tense occasion.
I beg of you. Do something now before I become one of those slasher people wielding a big knife upon your creations.
I’m sure any such attack would be considered justifiable.
Put a couple big boobed women on the jury and conviction would fly out the window faster than my bra being unsnapped.
Get with the program and drop the travel crap on your neighbors and friends. Force them to sit and watch your self-purported designing ideas.
If you want advertisement – pay for it.
If you want your artwork shown, put it in a gallery.
If you desire accolades, design something decent for a change.
I wouldn’t want to sit through a slide show of your vacation so what makes you think printing it on a shirt will make it more appealing to the masses.
Stop using my chest as your display rack!
I have enough bad ideas of my own to pay for. I don’t need any help in that area.
Remember me and all the big busted women of the world the next time you pick up your colors to design apparel for the “women’s” market. We are watching you.
Remember us now, or fear us later.
At least you have a choice.
From the life and mind of:
Wanda M. Argersinger
© 2011 All Rights Reserved