After shopping for what felt like days, I settled on this adorable two piece set; a pair of fitted, white capri’s with rhinestones on the pockets and a white t-back scoop tank that made my boobs look ferosh.

When we packed on the bus to head into the city, more than 50 people piled on in all different white outfits. The guys were lookin’ dapper in their white linen pants and crisp white button downs. The girls were looking…erm…well, let’s just say that I was the only one dressed, classy, yet sexy.

Most girls were wearing see through, skin tight, mini-dresses. One chick was wearing a sparkled bra from Victoria’s Secret as a shirt. No jacket. No cover up. No lie.

One girl’s dress was so low (like, I could see her belly button low) that we all got a nice glimpse of her nipple.

Again, no lie.

When we got to the dock, I noticed even more ridiculous outfits: the lowest cut shirts and shortest white shorts I’ve ever seen. I saw more cellulite and muffin tops than I’d care to see in a nightmare and the best part was, these people thought they looked H.O.T. (Ladies, a pair of size 4 white booty shorts do not look good on your size 12 behind.) But I’m not just making comments on those suffering from One Size Too Small Syndrome; girls that were a size 2 could’ve used a little covering up as well.

And then there was me and my capri pant/tank top combo. I looked hot, but I didn’t have to flash my boobs or my crack for it. There’s no need to flaunt everything, whether you have it or you don’t. Sure, I could’ve rocked the sequenced white bra as a top and would’ve looked good doing so, but trashy does not overpower the class that I exuded that evening… and that many guys find irresistable.

Anyone else feel me?

[Photo courtesy of skinzwear.com]

It’s not so much the muffin top in and of itself that irks me. It is OSTS, or One-Size-Too-Small Syndrome, afflicting so many girls that just baffles me.

Why do I refer to this…issue… as OSTS instead of the popular, Muffin Top? Well, in my humble opinion, the phrase “muffin top” implies that the offender is what she eats, and likely has a fondness for Oreos and Taco Bell. This simply is not always true. Skin hanging over your waistband does not mean fatness. I’ve seen girls who can’t possibly be any bigger than a size 4 with a muffin top, and it’s not that they’re at all chubby. Instead, it’s that they insist they’re a size two, and the end result in the obvious: OSTS. It’s not pretty.

I’m definitely not a tiny girl by any means, and I completely understand the battle with body image. I get a little unhappy anytime I have to purchase something in a large instead of a medium, but if the medium makes me look like a sausage trying to escape its skin, is it really worth wearing? Is it really going to look like you’re a size medium to anyone but yourself? Of course not! I may groan when I have to reach for a size larger in that cute little dress or jeans, but if it lays just right and fits as intended, so be it.

Stacy London of What Not to Wear has said it time and again—the only person who sees the size of your clothing is you. What matters is the look and if you can pull it off. If you have to go up a size to look like you can breathe (or to actually be able to breathe) bite the bullet and do it. Don’t be a sufferer of OSTS just because you can’t stand to wear a 30″ waistband instead of a 28″ or 29″—I promise you, clothing was not meant to appear as though it’s painted on. And it certainly wasn’t meant to feel that way unless you’re a runway model rocking haute couture for a living.

Am I wrong? Is it just me who thinks it’s ridiculous to squeeze into a smaller size than you actually are?

[Photo courtesy of www.coloribus.com]