Dear Calvin Klein.

Dear Mr. Klein,

Can I call you Calvin? Oh good.

Calvin, why do you want to hurt me so? What did I ever do to you?

You had some cute, flirty, 1950s-esque dresses in your summer collection this year. I've been eying them on Overstock.com for a few weeks, seeing if the prices would drop (they haven't). But last night at Dillard's they were on clearance for 90% off. That's right, I got one of your gorgeous sea foam green numbers for a measly twelve bucks! And I don't even care that it's from the summer line. I'm going to throw a cardigan over that baby and wear the heck out of it all winter.

Imagine this in sea foam green.

But here's where you hurt me, Calvin. Here's where you messed with my fragile self image.

I had to buy a size 14. Double digits.

Have you not been reading this blog, Calvin? Are you not aware of how hard I've been working to squeeze my fleshy self into size 8 tops and size 6 bottoms?

How is it that a size 6/8 for the rest of the fashion industry is a size 14 for you? Do you get some sort of sick thrill from making women feel fatter than they really are?

Consider yourself fighting with flabulous girls everywhere.

~Brandi

P.S. You too, Ralph.

P.P.S. I've found something more sinister to wear to church than fishnets: Thigh high fishnets. That's right, and I bought some.