“…starved to the existentially puzzling size 0.”
Nita Padavil
What is it about that svelte figure, sheathed in ivory silk that flicks the switch of lights in our minds, rather than the rotund, expansive figure in peach cotton? Angular and somewhat gaunt, Ms. Ivory isn’t very comforting but still we’re drawn to her. The beauty in the elegant, extending collar bone, in the graceful pattern of vertebrae of a delicately curved spine. Given that, who would want the sloppy smattering of amorphous flesh with its unsightly bulges?
What is it about zero? Why would you want to become almost nothing, on the brink of disappearing. “It would be like you never existed…” you said in a wine induced haze and I couldn’t help but laugh manically. What could be better? To be here and gone tomorrow. Just like that.
Ethereal. E-thear-e-al. What a beautiful word.
