How Agent Provocateur saved my life…

I was not an attractive teenager. Not for me the lean lines of adolescence, the long glossy hair or the peaches and cream complexion.  No, I…was a lovely person.

Automatically, that should be read short, fat, greasy and spotty. Although I was reading far above my peers’ level, it doesn’t count for much when you’re the only 16 year old Catholic school girl that men would prefer not to fantasise about.

I was bad at sports, and I had little inclination towards them. My only inclinations were towards reading, and good food. You do the math…because I sure as hell couldn’t. I wrote even then, and published some poetry. I’m sure you can just see the Desirability Points adding up.

Also, you can be as nice a person as you wish, but I woke up one day, looked in the mirror and realised that it still doesn’t make you beautiful.

Cue accepting the DDs I had to drag THROUGH high school because I got them in Grade 7, some prescription drugs and using Agent Provocateur as my fashion inspiration…and suddenly, I don’t feel so ugly any more. It appears that even a woman who loves her food is desirable, if she starts cooking in nothing but some lingerie, a rubber apron and 12cm stilettoes…

Who said high heels and corsets were oppressive?

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