More Fashion

If you've ever wondered about the fashion industry, i'm about to give you a profound insight.


^"I've always wanted to play Luke Skywalker! Now thanks to Australia's Fashion Week, I CAN! Where's my lightsaber?"



^If she were any happier about her catwalking abilities, her face would fall off.


^Fashion embraces all kinds of body types. Even those with three or more breasts!



^"Of course i would actually wear these glasses in public. See i'm already doing it on the catwalk!"


^Homage to all conservative Muslim women who want to take the next step in the fashion industry.



^ You can tell she really loves wearing 20 pounds of decorations on her head.


^The girl on the left is running the risk of having her bones poke holes through her skin. The girl on the right was kidnapped and forced into fashion modeling. (check out the hair...no brushed in weeks!)

Model this

The models have hit the streets with their tiny arses and stileto shoes. The cries of a million malnurished women have been silenced with smaller dress sizes. Australia's fashion week is here again.

With a polite nod to political correctedness, i am curvey. So it is perhaps my curves that cause sense of decency to run and hide when a model of 2 pounds is seen as "normal" for the catwalk. The thighs that do not touch saunter down the aisle, daring the skin to make contact with skin as the model scizors her legs along. Hair is pulled drastically away from the face so the limpness does not cause stares and the protruding cheekbones mark the face as gaunt. Her eyes are hollow but overshaddowed with enough makeup to secure a make-over to the residents of a small country. The hands are boney, with fingers like spider legs. The miss-hung clothing hangs off the model revealing parts of a woman that even her closest companion probably didn't know about.

And this is what is toted as the epidomy of fashion. This is what i should strive to achieve. A boney frame that might break upon a hug. Eyes that are vaccant and clothing that hangs from a starved body.

I will take my curves that do not fit into every article of clothing. I will keep my flushed cheeks. My hair will continue to shine and allowed bounce with my steps. Because i am a woman who is loved. I have a body that is loved. I do not need the high fashion skelotons to tell me i'm not good enough. My lover is not bruised against my protroding bones. My nails are strong and beautiful. I can walk more than the length of a catwalk and i can definately see through you.