Dear Members of the Lifestyles Committee,
I realize that you are, gasp, models. I realize that one of you chooses to forego food and paying her dues so she can be judged "Best Dressed, Best Dressed, Best Dressed!!" by people who care.
Guess what.
I? Am Southern. You need not tell what's tacky. You need not monitor or micromanage my every move. And little model one, let me offer a suggestion: People who carry suede purses in June need not throw stones. Call me when your boobs come in.
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