Once upon a time, I thought my curves were best tucked away—camouflaged under frumpy jumpers or corseted into submission. Now? I let them out for a proper romp, shaking and shimmering in all their glory. Some days, I admire them; other days, I threaten to trade them in for a more streamlined model (as if!). But truth be told, these curves have survived decades of diets and drama, and they’re still here—bolder and wobblier than ever. Why hide what brings so much mischief and marvellousness? Life’s short, and my curves are most definitely out to play...
CURVY & PROUD
My curves I tried to hide in my twenties — too worried to wear a dress.
My curves burst buttons but never my confidence.
My curves sneak out of knickers like naughty kittens.
My curves have been mistaken for soft furnishings (and used as such).
My curves are navigational hazards on busy dancefloors.
My curves bring all the bees to the garden (and a few stares too).
My curves jiggle to their own rebellious rhythm.
My curves, finally, are the bits I’d never swap — wobbles and all.
Lady Bee
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