I hate buying magazines anytime in Spring because every 10 pages or so, they’ll run an ad for a new formula anti-cellulite cream that promises to reduce thighs by a hundred thousand fat cells and help you into Summer’s hotpants.
Really. Funny, if any of those wonder creams really worked, i’d use them all year long and i’d stay in hotpants 365 days a year, but never mind my anti-wonder-anything me. I know it’s too hot for jeans when i turn murderous glances towards my denim; when i smile at the scissors and raise my eyebrows to the sawing kit, as if to say:’ What do you think, shall we?’.
Indeed. Time to bring out the legs ladies!