TRILLION DOLLA COMA- THE FASHION INDUSTRY AND THE GIRLS FROM AUSCHWITZ

Anorexia. More anorexia. See what the dead little girls are wearing this season. Happiness is a photo shoot and a failed liver. Dresses to die for, skirts and blouses for the therapist. Child abuse comes in many forms, and this is arguably one of the most utterly unforgivable.

OK, so an industry full of conceptually comatose people with spam for brains doesn’t quite understand what the fuss is all about. Can’t expect much from people that rich and that banal. So it’s lousy marketing, too. The demographic for 14 year old corpses is other 14 year old corpses. The miracle is that they can still lift their credit cards, which weigh more than they do.

Not that there’s ever been any expectation that the fashion industry would ever accidentally become sane. It never has been, and in that sense it’s acting entirely in character. Impractical, ridiculous, superficial… what’s new? The Anorexic Look is just another natural result of the mentality. “People to fit the clothes”, instead of the alternative.

Size Dead, fits every time.

It can be considered a little bit of an indication of the seriousness of the anorexia issue when even the suits, talk shows and tabloid papers understand it. Some strange, uncharacteristic burst of consciousness has even penetrated this far, into the very heart of suburban insularity. With that as the current stage of awareness, we may assume that some paleontologist will tell the fashion featherbrains what the problem is, any time in the next few million years from now.

Not that a collection of lazy, self-addicted, cocaine addled, middle-aged brats should necessarily be considered potential social saviors. That may be just slightly unrealistic. After all, what else have they ever done that was even slightly useful, apart from the odd charity event?

Anyway, they’re busy, being terminally bitchy, reupholstered, and working on their expense accounts. Nothing like the pressure of being utterly irrelevant, and getting paid for it, to make you socially sensitive.

Thinking about it, that might be it. You need armored skin to work in the industry, so criticism, however meaningful, would need an appointment at least. It’s a matter of opinion if people habituated to the brutality of a 20 second stagger down a catwalk could lower themselves to consideration of anything involving mere humanity.

So another generation of dead little girls arrives, maybe believing that they have rights, or lives. Odd how these rumors start, and the industry certainly can’t be accused of ever giving the impression that they have either lives or rights. Anyway, under that lighting, for long enough, you could make handbags out of them… if you stuck a few together.

That other little known branch of intellectual excellence, the health authorities, no doubt “closely monitoring” the shriveled wrecks we see every day, doesn’t seem to have an opinion. If people with leprosy, the upmarket version of anorexia, were walking down catwalks, they probably would condescend to release a press statement, if only to stay in practice in case something interesting happened. Similarly legislators, women’s groups, conservatives, “progressives” (what’re you supposed to be defending, again) or anyone else with any clout, don’t seem interested, although there are much more important things happening, like… insert anything suitably selfish and publicity-worth here.

Whole generations of very sick kids used as clothes horses probably aren’t worthy of that effort. Imagine if people started caring about anything they saw. What a horrible precedent. What if people really did, unintentionally, start caring about their kids? We’d never hear the end of it.

Suggestion- hold these exhibitions of greed somewhere appropriate, at least. Death Valley, an abattoir, a nice graveyard, or tannery, perhaps. Bring a garbage bag, and a spare face or several. Take a few hypocrisy courses, so you don’t get disoriented. Maybe one of those nice Coping With Constipation books.