21 January, 2011

Plastic fantastic.

So, all of the girls in my tutor group, bar a select few, still hanker shamelessly after that 'perfect, ideal' model body. Why? Because they're not happy with the way they look. Hell, I don't judge them for that, if every single teenage girl loved their own skin and coveted nothing, it would be pointless being a teenager. I must admit, even I'm not entirely happy; I won't go into the why's and why not's, but all you lot need to know is that I'm in very much the same boat as they are. However, flicking nonchalently (?) through the latest copy of Grazia, as you do on a Friday night, I'm horrified to discover that even though recent information has come out about anorexia, bulimia and probably a hundred thousand other eating disorders, I'm still seeing these bizarre photographs of models with heads too big for their bodies, wobbling precariously on their necks like bobble-heads on the dashboards of van drivers up and down the country. I'm telling you, I could cut out pictures of models from every issue of Heat, Grazia, Now, OK, Hello and suchforth, and submit them as a GCSE Surrealist Art portfolio (CLANG!). Magritte? Dail? They'd have nothing on me. Not even Ole' Melting-Clocks could compete with this. It isn't natural, no matter what rubbish these women (if I can call them that) spout uselessly, from their deprived mouths. It's human instinct to eat, to have body fat to keep warm, to SURVIVE. They're starving themselves to show every bone, every diminished curve under those relentless spotlights.

Of course, I maybe being a tad harsh. For example, some of these people are normal-sized. All of them, I'm sure, have good heads on their shoulders, it's just that some of them choose not to use them and instead starve themselves to the point of harm. I just wish people, minly girls, could love themselves for them. Even if no-one else tells you that you're beautiful, they can suck it up, beacuse you know that they're just jealous.

Keep this sentiment in mind, and you'll all be fine. Prepare yourselves for the cliche train! Someone, somewhere will love you. If they care to get close enough to see past all the makeup, then they're keepers! The people that can see past the makeup are the only ones worth wearing it for.

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