I have been pacing around my apartment, trying diligently to think about the opposite of Barbie. Every idea I come up with is horrible, because I cannot seem to break the “black and white” theme I have been stuck on for the past few days.
While eating a snack, the image of Barbie comes into my head that stirs up a new creative path; Barbie having her guts pour out of her stomach, and her insides are just completely rotten and rancid, and hisses like cooked bacon as it seeps onto the ground.
This gruesome image stemmed a thought that what if the inside of Barbie was the polar opposite of her exterior; if she was absolutely heinous inside.
Some people would call this the celebrity-syndrome. Numerous celebrities have lost sex-appeal when they let their rancid insides scab over the once attractive exterior they worked so hard to preserve.
Nonetheless, if Barbie’s insides were not the same as her outside it would make her fake. Being fake is not the optimistic face of life’s possibilities that Barbie has engulfed. It would be a façade. And the façade projected would be the opposite of the purity encompassed by Barbie.