Sunday, May 27, 2007
behind the scene
the sale was supposedly by-invite only, but the local free paper advertised a day earlier and possibly hundred women turned up for their biggest fashion splurge – on cult denims, frocks, lace and ruffles. rows of designer wears occupied the entire hall space and the makeshift changing rooms were behind the curtained stage. having to weave through the narrow corridors of
the changing room was the major spectacle. c’est magnifique! an orgy of semi-naked women at the mass changing room – a sight most men would die for if only it was the backstage of victoria secret’s runway. i was expecting a cubicle for myself, but the brutal confrontation with cellulite, granny panties, stretch marks and muffin tops galore, i would be just thankful for wearing a half decent cks. contrary to the war-torn zone outside, the changing room was much congenial, albeit with strewn clothes all over the floor, sweaty women, messy hair with half buttoned shirts; completely different from those white collared couture worshipers outside.
in situations like this, with two centered narrow standing mirrors, or rather the lack thereof, 1. must rely on your ability to visualise, 2. ask for a stranger’s comment and alternatively, 3. bring a friend, if she is a true friend, appreciate the reflection of her stark honest opinion – “chuck those jeans, your thighs look fat” otherwise 4. strut along half naked, gather the number of positive and negative vibes from strangers’ stares. a woman did. flashed her breasts at me to get my reaction and she got it, five seconds to say the least.
fuck at 11:27 AM