The Bra Whisperer
I’ve never fallen for a gay man before. But if Carson Kressley (of Queer Eye) asked me to take my clothes off, I think I might oblige. He has a new series starting yesterday, called How to Look Good Naked.
Carson is getting quite a lot of action from the ladies, and all it takes is a few sweet words and an underwear makeover. I think if I had a totally fab gay man at my side for 5 days buying me brilliantly sexy lingerie and constantly telling me how beautiful my nakedidity is, I might be a little cheerier in the world. His exhuberance with the imperfect female form is quite refreshing.
Of course, his overall mission - via the aid of black lace panties - is to encourage self-acceptance, and I can dig that. Because when it comes to weight loss, I accept the fact that I am not self-accepting. I’m with him. What else would give me the combination of desperation and adventure to inject myself with freeze-dried urine in the hope of losing 100 lbs?
Truthfully, I don’t know that I could garner the courage to appear on national telly in my skivvies, but if he loved me and hugged me and bought me slutty undies, I could deal with that. Because after all, the show is on Lifetime, a channel that will put you in the worst of moods if you watch it long enough, for all the rape, murder and eating disorders it features every hour. So large women jiggling their wobbly bits and learning to love themselves on camera seems somehow a sane idea in comparison to their regular fare.
My wish for the show is that he choose a wide variety of amply-sized (and amply-aged and -abled) people to face their fears of feeling sexy. And that he take me to la cleavage therapist, the Bra Whisperer. I could seriously self-accept some of her lacy designs into my delicates drawer.
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