The Story of the Double Chin

You swore to yourself at sixteen that you’d first shoot yourself before becoming as fat as great aunt Mavis. You swore too that you’d never wear a tank top that revealed flabby underarm wing fat like your high school french teacher (she wasn’t really french otherwise she’d have some understanding of modesty). There has been a change in your body over the years, but you haven’t changed that much, not really. Until the time you turn up to work with two chocolate croissants in your hand and the cleaning lady back from holiday proudly says you got nice and fat whilst she was away, especially around the chin area. Running to the bathroom mirror a series of sideways glances at yourself reveal the truth, you do indeed have a formless chin, one that curves downwards into your neck, not anymore the sharp 90° angle your former younger self possessed. Obviously you become depressed. It’s shallow but you can’t help it. Your youth is fading, first went your stomach, second the butt and third the chin. Next you’ll have swollen ankles just like Mavis and won’t be able to get your shoes on without a shoe horn. On consulting your friends you find that the double chin phenomenon affects more than just you. Some recommend surgery, others a series of tongue exercises, some a plastic mouth guard that helps you train and firm up your whole lower face area. Surgery is ruled out as there is exactly 85 euro in your bank account. The mouth guard is made of plastic so your ‘green’ consciousness nags at you once you get to the checkout with the damn thing. The tongue exercises don’t seem such a bad idea, yet it consists of resting your tongue on the upper part of your palette all of the time. Like for the rest of your life. You manage it for a good twenty five minutes before agreeing to go out with your friends for a pint and a burger. Perhaps Great Aunt Mavis didn’t look as bad as you remember anyway.

Bio

The fatal flower is the perverted shy girl, the one you wouldn’t suspect. Under a soft exterior lies a complex being with an unyielding wildness, anchored to the earth by her humble nature and inexplicable dry humour. She is the femme of now, the modern woman who’s thoughts transcend through cultures and time.

Over the coming months let ‘La Fleur Fatale’ be your guide to the hidden insights and stories of a watchful woman’s eye navigating through the ‘European’ way of life. Struggles and mishaps ensue as life is embraced and the thorny introvert femme clammers for life’s answers. All possible subjects are covered from death to Kim Kardashian and from sisterhood to the perfect strawberry frappe.

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