Far into the dark shadows of the long stretch of judgment rises She. Her Limbs, spindly yet powerful, supporting the weight of culture and creation that she has been given to show the world her master’s vision. Fixated on the black, shimmering layer of fabric in motion, as it draws nearer to the naked eye of criticism, we see an elongated figure with piercing eyes, expressionless and filled with pain. Versace is not her name, but it is what she is wearing. Her feet come to a harsh point of gold, supported buy a studded spike, five inches from the ground, defying gravity and comfort. She stands, tall and inspiring, as we look up towards the heavens, her head in the clouds, flashes of light capture every angle on her body. She has reached the end of her journey, a slight look of satisfaction can be read on her eyes, as she turns away from her audience towards the portal to her own world.
She smiles, but only momentarily, at the commotion around her. Removing her armor of pride, the little people become aggressive, and pull her down to earth. She cries, as the minutes pass like hours, she waits for her calling. Behind the illusive wall that conceals and protects her from her real identity, she rests. Suddenly, a sticky toxic fog surrounds her. Hands reach up towards her face. Blackout. She is profusely tampered with and adjusted until she opens her eyes. Perfection. She pouts her blood red lips and smolders at the crowd as she makes her next entrance. They say, “The world’s a stage”, but this stage has no actors, it is real. Seriously seductive, her image is magnified by a blinding light from above. Gloriously demonic, clad in chains and spikes she walks. The magnificently iridescent chains encase her limbs, the spikes impaling her as she moves, but she feels no physical pain. Only the thought of losing this moment of glory leaves her grieving inside.
Time is her greatest enemy. She knows that this road is not infinite, and soon she will have to look beyond the adoring crowd and her powers of beauty, but she will not admit defeat. She will continue to walk until she decides its time to move on, yet she swears never to leave the spotlight. Deep within her soul, the burning desire to create jealously and envy all who gaze in awe at her beauty keeps her content. She is a monster of her own susceptibility to vanity and material pleasures.
She represents the extremes in beauty, perceived by artists of cloth. External beauty is just an illusion of how we choose to represent our culture through art. Real beauty exists in individuals, who have the exterior confidence and looks of Miss Malevolence, but inside, they are not weakened by the reality of fading beauty, or wish to make others feel unfortunate about their appearance. Brutal but true is the world in which she exists. She is vulnerable to change for better or worse. She is Fashion.
(1) Versace Womenswear Campaign Fall 2013
Note: This was a draft piece of creative fashion writing for a magazine run by the student union at AUCB Bournemouth. Instead of writing a general news fashion article, I wanted to try something new, so I created a story about a model on a catwalk with a moral at the end. The title ‘Miss Malevolance’, together with the dark fashion realtes to the Versace Fall 2013 colection depicted in the photo above.