Models at the Mall

Because of the ample space I have in my jeep I was able to bring all of my earthly possessions…wait…nope…no, that isn’t correct. Jeeps have terrible storage options and really you can only bring the necessities. This meant that it was important that I go buy new clothes. Also, I lost weight and when pants are several sizes too big you start getting that frumpy pleated look, even though you specifically bought pants WITHOUT pleats.

Anywho. I walked into one of Omaha’s many fine shopping establishments and noticed a giant stage with people walking back-and-forth across it as if … I don’t know, but it looked funny. I realized that this was some type of model show/talent search. I generally love these things, in fact AGT is one of my favorite shows because I like watching people perform almost as much as I like British people telling us we shouldn’t/can’t.

My problem with these venues is that it totally encourages unrealistic appearances. I saw several people—men—who were way taller than me, but who weighed as much as my dinner plate last night. They were overly bronzed and quaffed. Even with all of their makeup and stuff they just looked sick. I soon realized why. I could smell vomit. EVERYWHERE. I tried walking away and several stores down and I couldn’t get past it. That is my biggest problem with model culture. Trust me. The skinny jeans aren’t that cute that I want you to kill yourself to fit in them. A nice set of slacks would do just fine.

The biggest problem for me sort of lies in the fact that this was a mall. Who wants to go shopping and smell vomit? I also don’t want to go shopping and smell Hollister or A&F, but that is all a different story.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this one. In fact, I don’t think I had an end goal in mind at all. Maybe this was just an observation