Mall Shopper

my journey from fat to fuckin' rad

about

Before you read my blog you should know a few things:

- i swear A LOT.
- i’m fairly sarcastic, which is fantastic for writing on the internet (see?! sarcasm.)
- i am notorious for forgetting words when i type. another reason why i am a perfect candidate to write on the internet.

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I have always loved the mall. I love clothes, bags, shoes, jewelry, lingerie, etc. I love them soooo much. Fashion has always been my secret love. When I was younger I would sketch pictures in my journals of clothes I wish I could wear and I have always browsed magazines dreaming of the outfits I was missing out on. Like most teenage girls, my weekends were spent at the mall. My friends and I would spend hours going store to store, trying on random things and laughing at ridiculous outfits. But around grade 10/11 I could no longer fit into the clothes at the mall. I was banished to plus size stores. And plus size clothes are two things: ugly and expensive. It kills me that I can’t wear skinny jeans with a great pair of boots over them. That may sound completely ridiculous, but seriously. I just want to wear leggings and a tunic!! Or a strapless dress! I want to shop in a motherfucking mall.

Of course, my fashion dreams are secondary to my ultimate goal - I want to be healthy. I don’t want to die going up a flight of stairs. I want to join my friends on hikes. I want to go skating again. I want to go for walks with my mom after dinner. I want to travel the world and not worry about the walking. I want all of these things. And life will only get worse if I don’t get my shit together.