There it was, over-flooding the waistband of what I once referred to as my fat jeans...the entirety of thirty five french fries, fifteen baguettes, eight macaroons, and heavens knows what other million grams of sugar I consumed at the beginning of October. Lord of the calories, heavens of fat, please tell me my Paris diet can be fixed, because I can't seem to hide any of the evidence (achem, rolls). Thank heavens it's cooling down here in Houston, so I can masque in layers on top of my layers of fat. Take note of bellow: one cashmere sweater, topped with a snap front cardigan, adorned by a layer of leather...mission UN-accomplished. The over all result in layering to mask layers of fat is an idea only I would try. It's just like the super long, body covering shape-wear. That one giant body suit is only adding a layer or thickness to your silhouette.
My advice is, pick a waist cinching little black dress, and go bare. Now my advise to self, pick one piece of knit and leave the other at home. Knit over knit doesn't masque extra lbs, it masques your body from tackle football. So until I juice cleanse my way back to less fat kid version of self, a football linebacker I shall appear.