THE SKINNY

It’s fashion week in NYC, and amongst the glamour and glitz, the fashionistas are up in arms about the negative press surrounding super skinny models. Of course, no one will come right out and endorse anorexia, but prada dressed and obsessed editors know full well that fashion would not be fashion without bone thin teenaged girls tottering down the runway.

Fashion has always been an artful illusion made possible with lights and circus mirrors, so what’s wrong with a little skin and bones? I mean, I like to think of the models as starving artists.

Of course, in a grand gesture, the fashion police have placed tables of healthy food backstage, but who’s kidding whom? If your job is to be a size 0, you’re not going to touch the nosh no matter how good it is. The New York Post has reported that while some models are eating, the janitors are smelling mucho vomit in the bathrooms. I say, bravo girls.

As I sat in my chair applauding the designers, who by the way are showing oodles of short skirts, I also put my hands together for the starving artists who bring the clothes to life.