The Brilliant Inhumanity Of Catwalk Models
Poor catwalk models. They’re just trying to do their job and everyone comes down on them like a ton of bricks for being too thin. If they get bigger in size though (say, to a one), they’re screwed, and for good reason. The fascinating artistry of the clothes – more like furniture or sculpture than clothes – can only be draped on coathangers. Their swoosh and heft and perfection depends on not having bolshy breasts and curves putting their two cents in.
These women are just that- coathangers. And the girls who reportedly starve themselves to achieve the look of catwalk models are wasting their time – not any girl/woman can achieve their look. It’s not just about starvation and extreme thinness, it is also about possessing otherworldly grace and the remarkable resemblance to a collection of sticks, artfully melded together, like a puppet. It’s also about their ability to look like puppets when they walk, as though those long wooden limbs are being controlled by strings off stage.
If you’ve ever been to a catwalk show, you’ll know how riveting is their talent for wearing zero expression – they look and walk like puppets, and they seem not to be alive, too. No woman could have a more intense immrsion in the type of judgment that most people fear most in the world. They’ve got a whole industry of bitchy people who make all their judgements based on beauty, intangible notions of stylishness, and all of whom very high standards when it comes to human attractiveness – staring intensely at them as they walk in impossible shoes and clothes and spiders and blood and whatever, down an exposed catwalk.
And they don’t blush, they don’t tremble, they don’t show a glimmer of humanity. That ability to dehumanise is a subtle one, and a model’s greatest attribute and challenge after her graceful skinniness.