You're relatively small, but not flat and toned. The magazines and television tell me you're imperfect.
First you were imperfect because it took you 20+ years to really make your debut, and now you're imperfect because the magazines and television tell me you should be firmer and perkier.
You're pretty much the one part of my body who most closely conforms to the magazines and television but they tell me you're imperfect because your upper half adds a little jiggle to my step.
You're small, which magazines and television seem to think is perfect on every other part of my body but you (and hair). They tell me you're imperfect because you're too small and a little further south than you used to be.
I didn't realize you could be imperfect, but magazines and television have pointed out that you and waist are sharing custody of Baby Love Handles now and that makes you imperfect.
You're getting flabby. Pretty soon you're going to have bat wings and magazines and television tell me that makes you imperfect.
I'm working on you, and I know it's not always your fault when things fall flat, but magazines and television tell me you should have more body, more shine, and less split ends. They tell me you're imperfect.
You should always look as if I just walked away from the most perfect manicure. But you never do. You're always short, different lengths, never painted and you often have dirt underneath you from *gasp* work. The magazines and television tell me that you're imperfect.
Why the sudden regression to puberty? One week you're super oily and breaking out and the next week you're as dry as the Sahara (which doesn't make your pores look any smaller!) Magazines and television tell me you should look flawless, with evenly and perfectly matched skin tone and you should never have dark circles under your eyes. You, too, are imperfect.
You are imperfectly mine. I love you just the way I am, no matter what magazines and televisions tell me.