The personal petticoat (Fin)It has been a long, tiring day. James and I woke rather early at 8:00am to have breakfast, play a few rounds on the Playstation 2, prep and step out for pre-shift lunch. It's Monday afternoons like this I wish would stretch into infinity. Just a few more minutes with him make things blissful.
I don't usually photograph myself in a state of undress, but it felt right.
The last layer of tulle on my hips make for the ever-elusive cupcake shape, a shape I never thought I'd enjoy. Oh but I do now. Quite proud of it.
I'm quite glad how well the petticoat retains its shape. Stand up, sit down, crushed in a jeep ride, laid out in a cab. All I need do is shake it out in the powder room.
Aj first saw this shot, and she loved it. It makes me feel like one of Fernando Botero's paintings. The nudes in particular.
I am fat. Fat is not necessarily a bad word; it's just like blonde or freckled or olive-skinned or curly-haired. I am rubensque, voluptuous, of flesh, hair and bone, and very, very much woman.
I'm glad to finally have a petticoat for myself. It will be a big help for me here on. I can finally base my skirts and dresses on it, to see if there's enough "fluff-room" to accommodate the petticoat, and so on. I've half a mind to tighten the waist, and maybe make a black one. We'll see.