City begs.

Recently I was in London, and it was evident to see  the civilisation of persistent cultures, whether tourists or people who reside in the city. The on-going fascination of populated cities attract people of high interests and to some extent, patience. London has many other attractions, whether, historically or in terms of design, these aspects of such place creates iconic features alluring those interested in rich, overwhelming and tiring experiences.

The price tag and high expense to some is that of a ‘one off experience’, however to inhabitants it is a lifestyle which has been adapted, this being, disposing of their income in a luxurious or frugal manner.

Whilst in London it was evident to see the divide in social class: from rich to poor, from literate to illiterate, to those with further education to those with poor education. This segregation is so close, that those in a high hierarchy placement can be touched and approached by bruised beggars. It is almost a tease to be wearing top hats with pleasure, as they gallivant into their Rolls-Royce's driven by a chauffeur, whilst weeping hands extend in hope for sympathy from the rich pestilence as they see it.

I witnessed the prominence of the street liars, as they reach for a hand to hold, snatching money to their favour. I find it hard to understand why these beggars intoxicate their bodies with alcohol: is it to forget their constant pain of discomfort? Or, is it to make themselves feel good? It continues to puzzle me.

No one quite knows the emotion and reason behind a penniless person, but there must be a ruthless reason or perhaps a fault of their own. Their subdued manner is one that makes givers feel sorry for them, unless the beggar  is one of desperation, wailing and sobbing, whilst their crocodile tears blend with the perpetual rain showering their groans into the sewage.

In my own opinion, I believe that there shouldn’t be any level of guilt whilst walking down the street seeing homeless individuals and in some cases, homeless families - it's their life. In the same way, individuals walking down the street with a proud manner also have their own lives. The segregation may be unjust due to closeness, but it is modern society. No one is going to be of the same social class, so why acknowledge  the people diametric to ourselves?

The fashion world...

I’ve heard the cliché that beauty equates to success. Beauty as it seems, in this modern day is to be size zero, to be a skeletal figure with the lack flesh, a visage without character. The complexion to us of malnutrition, starvation and hunger, but in the Medias’ opinion, this face is one of beauty, one of ‘fashion’. Skinniness to the media, is not the average size 12, it is size zero: zero food, zero nutrition, but somehow to them it’s 100 percent beautiful.

This over shown airbrushed image of bones is surreal, unjust, and ugly. Females and even males form a constant burden of their figure, they feel they are unacceptable, overweight and not normal, but the way they view themselves in the mirror is constantly referred back to the ‘fashionable look’ - the size zero. People feel they need to fit the ideal image otherwise they aren’t accepted, no wonder so many are insecure. Naive young girls witness the media endorsing ‘skinniness’ to be healthy, to be right and most of all to be ‘beautiful’, nothing other than skinny can be accepted in their fashionable laws. To me, fashion by the media is shown to be that of perpetually dieting until ridiculously underweight, until skin and bone, until size zero.

There have been various complaints about the idealised figure in the fashion world (causing upset and insecurity to those with or without a sensitive disposition); this figure is overly shown: on the front of magazines, on television, on the internet and even as far as mannequins in shop windows. Due to this, ‘plus size’ models have been introduced, the name even sounds trite... Models are now labelled according to size, when will the fashion world wake up and see reality?

Models are selected individuals to flaunt clothing on the catwalk, this means setting an example to those who love fashion, giving the message “this clothing looks fashionable on my body”, but in reality, no one is absurdly skinny. They are almost modelling curtains: they are shapeless, loose-fitting and overwhelming for their petite bony frames. Personally, and I am sure plenty of others loathe to see surreal human bodies model clothes which we in reality, have no chance of wearing, as the possibility is, those clothes only fit the modelling population.

I couldn’t imagine the emotions of a model – a size zero model. Would this model feel as though they still aren’t ‘ideal’ and that they are overweight, or will some wake up and realise what they are doing to their bodies? Looking at their bodies must be reminiscent of a skeleton, a lifeless, frail frame with no inclination to move. But what differentiates a skeleton from a model, is a model has a life, it has to move, it has to live with the starvation, the hunger, the pain of not touching any nourishing foods – they feel the effects, and this, they have to carry on, just to be in the fashion world: to fit in, to be beautiful and to be accepted.

The mirror in the fashion world must be that of a shattered one, just as they shatter lives of aspiring and existent models: forcing them to be in their eyes, beautiful and perfect, forcing them to fit in. The path of success to these shallow employers of fashion is that of size zero, another skeleton with a walk of fragility whilst on the catwalk as if they’re about to snap.