PRINT Summer 1993

Glamour Wounds

Dorothy's Daughter

EVERY DAY I HAVE THE CHOICE to be my most beautiful. So whenever I want to reinject some libido into my daily life I pick up a fashion magazine. As I turn the odorous pages, my body imaginarily libidinalizes, becomes smoother, sleeker, more airbrushed; my legs lengthen. I lower my gaze slightly, glance at the camera with a dewy coy look, or throw back my head wildly. I laugh wildly at some bit of fabulosity known only to myself.

I appreciate the inbuilt temporality of my glamour future. Glamour reminds us to enjoy life to the fullest and seize the moment through the perfect pose. Yet glamour is always already around the corner: there is always the lure of the new regime that will make you still worthier of being seen from the place where you appear likable to yourself, tomorrow. (Visual: me in crisp navy and white for spring, cavorting with Linda Evangelista. She’s telling me she’s always

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