I don't think anyone in this country wants to hear anything about President Trump from below the waist, below the belt.
I was 230 kg, with a size 81 waist. I couldn't buy anything off the shelf and needed more than one tailor to measure and stitch my clothes.
A small foot in China, no different from a tiny waist in Victorian England, represented the height of female refinement. For families with marriageable daughters, foot size translated into its own form of currency and a means of achieving upward mobility. The most desirable bride possessed a three-inch foot, known as a 'golden lotus.'
If you want to own the power of God at your waist belt, you should have a background check. If you are a domestic violence abuser, convicted, you should not have a gun where you could snuff out the lives of your loved ones.
In the United States women develop MS at approximately twice the rate men do, and no one can explain why women are affected most often from the waist down.
I'm a bit of a traditionalist; the ballroom is all about tails and I never mess about with that. But for the Latin you can have a bit fun: tight trousers, gold shirt open to my waist, be a bit ridiculous.
All the suits I buy have to be tailored, no matter what. But it's not just because of my height; it's because I've been skating for so long. My waist is very small, but my legs are just huge. Most really nice suit makers are Italian, and usually they make suit pants for Italian men. I'm like, 'Those Italians must have pretty skinny legs.'
People equate health to a picture in a magazine of a 6-foot-tall thin woman with her skin rolls Photoshopped and her waist edited to be tiny, so when they see bodies that jiggle and move around like they do, they assume it's wrong.
There were days I could barely struggle into a size 46 or 48, months of larges and XXLs, and endless rounds of leggings with the elastic at the waist stretched to its limit and beyond - topped with the fashion equivalent of a tea cozy. And always black, because I was in mourning for my slimmer self.
As long as you smile, have sparkly eyes and stick your shoulders back, nobody's going to notice your bum or your waist or your feet, for that matter.
