Do you, like me, enjoy looking at these chickas and feel, that they, like, aliens from another species, or fine art, or Alexander McQueen shoes, or fairies from contemporary fairy tales, have no relevance, to our real lives at all?
Or do they upset you, because you are not and can never be, as lovely to look at, as they are?
I think the time has come to make a decision, one way or the other.
So we can free ourselves, and move on.
Here’s a suggestion:
If you find them offensive and if they make you feel inadequate and dissatisfied: think about the ugly side of their pretty pictures.
I hope it will encourage you to come on over to the other side (It could be a club! SSS – Sisters who have survived Supermodels.)
Remember that to be confident, happy and successful, you do not have to hold in your stomach, be scrutinised everywhere you go, exist on a diet of cigarettes and coffee, work with the world’s most critical and superficial people, insure your legs/breasts, explain to the world that you have not had cosmetic surgery or been retouched if you look good in a picture, take your clothes off (no female celeb is immune!) when you’re old enough to know better, worry when surrounded by other women, that you are larger than they are, be judged purely on how thin and “attractive” (to some possibly misogynist, idiotic, cruel and abusive person) you are. Etc etc and blah, blah.
There are better lives to live, than one where it matters, more than anything else, what you look like.
Have you thought about it?
Then grab a similarly “unfortunate” girlfriend and go out and have a lovely, large glass of something fiercely alcoholic.
It doesn’t matter if you have two.
No, really, it doesn’t matter!
I hope so.
I’ve thought too much about weight and beauty, for the week.