Spending years in fitting rooms has taught me one very bitter fact: women are sick, sickly, suffering, ill. Their vision is distorted seeing not full humans in their reflections, but disembodied thighs, bottoms, underarms, and stomachs.
But fret not my feminine friends, you can be healed. Partake of a simple cure for your body insecurities: a personalized fashion prescription. Dress education can quickly lead to body adoration. Before you know it, you'll be giving your saddlebags and love handles pet names.
My name is Reachel, and I want you to feel pretty.