You are the one that lies. You scam countless women into believing they really can be sexy in a velvet track suit two sizes too small. You make the fat skinny, the flat-chested voluptuous, and shoulder pads en vogue. I stepped anxiously in front of you, ready to reject yet another item of clothing that made me look pregnant, but you reflected an image of Beyoncé Knowles in a D&G cocktail dress. Even though I could have made the same dress by cutting a hole in a sheet and gluing on polka dots, I believed you. And I believed my husband when he apparently got hard at the sight of me in a bag dress and marched to the counter to sign away my dignity. Now I have an overpriced bag hanging in my closet, and you have yet another overweight victim of fashion fraud on your conscience.
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