I’m a model, know what I mean. Shake my little tush on the catwalk machine; so the song goes.
My tush shakes until the fashion house clothes me in a tube top that barely covers my breasts and towering black stiletto boots to accessorise their latest design in ripped drainpipe denims.
My heel catches and I plunge from the catwalk. Nipples peep out from the tube and the jeans rip up the backside; I’m not wearing knickers…audience concern; derisive chuckles from models in the wings. Cameras flash. Designer seeks novel way to advertise their ripped creation, scream rag mag headlines.
My tush shakes until the fashion house clothes me in a tube top that barely covers my breasts and towering black stiletto boots to accessorise their latest design in ripped drainpipe denims.
My heel catches and I plunge from the catwalk. Nipples peep out from the tube and the jeans rip up the backside; I’m not wearing knickers…audience concern; derisive chuckles from models in the wings. Cameras flash. Designer seeks novel way to advertise their ripped creation, scream rag mag headlines.
