Donot snigger when I pass. Even if you look like you’ve been poured into your outfit and I look like I am spilling all over. I will survive an ice age. You wont.
If you are above 5ft 5 inches, could you kindly not stand next to me in the lift, especially if you are wearing additional heels and I am on my ballerinas, given brat accompaniment requirement. You might as well just hammer me into the floor.
If you have no cellulite, do me the courtesy of not flashing perfect thighs from a miniskirt when all I can see is magnified orange peels every where on mine, the kind that lymphatic drainage massages conducted in hushed tone day spas charge a hand and a foot to get rid off, dont budge a centimeter.
If your twins are still perky, and you can afford to go without the double support and underwire and triple strap harness I have to straightjacket myself into to avoid sweeping the floor in front of me as I pass through, do me the favour of keeping out of my sight, unless you want real bad evil eye to hit you.
If you can get into your trousers without having to suck in your belly, or you still rush into changing rooms with armfuls of clothes off the rack, without needing to hunt for sympathetic salesperson, female, to find something that might just fit, go ahead, do your changing and trying on without sniggering about how I seem hung up on that one unflattering pair of trousers that really does nothing to diminish the butt, but which I must take because IT IS THE ONLY ONE THEY HAVE IN THAT SIZE.
If you picked out your clothes in the kids section because nothing in regular sizes fitted you, I dont even want to know you or speak to you. You, blight on the food chain, you.
And you, the one who disappears when seen in silhouette, please, please do you mind turning frontal to give me some opacity between you and the background. I was almost going dizzy there wondering if I was hallucinating.
And you, you tittering there in the corner, all of 18 years and as many kilos, giggling as you see me wolf down all on my tray in a couple of bites, know that I am not at risk of anaemia and osteoporosis.
And words of wisdom from a woman to a girl: The men, they like the curves. So there.