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on 22-02-2003 17:58
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By Sarah Zaidi
Every fashion designer is present and all the cameras are ready. But for what? You sit in your chair waiting. Waiting to be swept off your feet. You came to witness perfection, to see perfection at its best. And then it begins...one after another, beautiful women walk before you in designer outfits. You see them in front of you. Don’t you? It’s like a dream come true for you. Is this what you’ve always wanted to do?
They walk like cats flashing their beauty. Almost driving you senseless. You forget your reason for being there. You forget to record and criticize mistakes that the designers made.
You gaze at the girl in the tight, lacy, red dress wondering whether the designer meant to use any fabric at all or was that little rag of red used by mistake? How can one breath wearing that? You try your best to look away, but you fail. Utter failure. You manage to look down at your paper and scribble in sloppy handwriting the words, “perfect models in perfect dresses; a truly outstanding show.” You glance back up and....
She is gone, but you feel nothing. Another replaces her wearing nothing but a so-called black dress. One notices her long legs that the shortness of the dress reveals. Her skin so clear and perfect, as if it was not hers at all. “Dress” is a word that holds no meaning any more. You have made it to mean nothing but a piece of cloth of the shortest length possible. Now “dress” can only mean the display of a woman’s beauty for anyone with eyes, whether she likes it or not.
Is a woman not compared to a summer’s day any more you wonder? One doubts if women were created only for decoration purposes. Is a woman’s character inferior to her looks in importance?
Questions and doubts plague your mind.
What is this “perfection “ that you worship so humbly? You cannot even define perfection. Do you call this forged beauty obtained by make-up perfection? Do you believe that a girl starving herself should do so in order to look beautiful? Will that satisfy your greed? Don’t you know that beauty may fade, but a woman’s mind will last for as long as she is alive and well?
In all this chaos of ideas, you overlook the consequences of your baseless beliefs!
You are at the hospital, waiting...knowing nothing. You look around and see worried faces - some praying, others crying. The doctor, in his clean white coat, looks you in the eye and shakes his head. You wonder if she’ll live past tomorrow, after all she had skin cancer. Her skin shriveled up all over her face. You hear her sobbing silently.
What can you do? Nothing.
Your memory reminds you of her beauty, but now more than ever you remember her words and thoughts. You never did listen to her imaginative dreams. She only wanted your love and attention.
You look at her once-smooth cheeks that she used to nurture. You see wrinkles beyond belief, crawling about her face like poisonous snakes. Now for the first time you are afraid to touch her. What if it’s contagious, you ask your self. She was your friend and companion in need, was she not? She was the best. She was perfect. You ask yourself “why?” You never told her to starve herself to look perfect. But you only wanted perfection. You got what you wanted while she pays for your sins. Her beautiful dark brown eyes gaze into yours, as if pleading for a little bit of dignity. You look away, ashamed.
Ashamed of your own wife?
Who is responsible for her terrible state? You find the horrible answer in your heart. You come face to face with the truth of your desires. You drove her to destruction, to the point of no return.
Last update : 22-02-2003 17:58
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