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I took my own advice before I knew it was my advice: I asked for something in return for something else.
This time, I asked for a clothing sponsorship for BlogHer ’10 from plus-size social occasion dress company, Eliza Parker, in exchange for my honest opinion on how I liked the dress.
If you’re new around here, (and really, if you are, where have you been? I’ve missed you!) you know that I’m honest to a fault. Almost to a tee. It’s pretty much a detriment to my social being, but whatevs. I’m honest, is my point.
To be honest (see: above), I was hoping, but not sure, I’d like the dress I had picked out with the help of one of the more-than-super-friendly associates over the phone. (Yes, an internet store who will help you over the phone. Like, help you style yourself and everything. It’s almost a lost art in this digital age, but I digress.)
When picking out a $189 dress, even if it’s given to you in exchange for your opinion, especially for someone like me with larger lady lumps, it’s nerve-wracking. There are SO many things to think about: belly chub, arm flaps, boob strapping, thunder thighs. And again, considering this was a $189 dress, I was hoping for the best.
Holy crap on a Baby Jeebus cracker.
I actually looked H.O.T. in my dress. No shit. For realsies. I’d even do me.
(Note: the photo used in this post to represent me in the Venice dress is clearly distorted and does not accurately portray the hotness I was protruding out of my every stretched pore. Just take me at my work. Again, see: above.)
This dress is so fancy, without being over-the-top (cause this mama don’t do over-the-top), it comes with a sash. This girl doesn’t do sashes. Until this dress. I put on that sash and sashayed my happy fine ass all around New York City with my snazzy sash.
This dress is so nice, I didn’t even wear Spanx, and I still felt unlumpy.
This dress is so nice, I could wear it to a funeral, then to a wedding, then to a funeral.
This dress is so nice, I ordered it in the size I think I am, and I could actually wear straight out of the box it came in.
This dress is so nice, I actually felt good about myself.
And that, my friends, is priceless.
(Actually, it costs about $189, and if you have the bone$ to spend on yourself, consider an Eliza Parker dress if you’re a size 10+. You can send me your thank you note after you get over your sexiness.)