Forget the suit, I’m just trying to fit into a skirt

It is quarter to eleven and I haven’t had dinner. Instead I had trifle and champagne, which isn’t a bad substitute, but not great for trying to get your stomach to participate in a flattening campaign. It’s not that I really mind a stomach, it’s just that when it gets to certain proportions it is hard to keep my wrap around skirts wrapped the way they should be.

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