Chico has something important to say
In all the debate surrounding the concept of "size zero" models, one voice has remained silent. But no longer: Chico will remain silent no longer.
With perhaps the exception of To Me, To You: The Chuckle Brothers explain Middle Eastern boundaries, it's hard to come up with a meeting of subject so complex with an intellect so lacking. Trying to cope with the complex issues of the demands of the fashion industry as an aspiration-driven industry, the power of the male gaze, the idealisation of the impossible, the use of food as a means of control and the projection of self-image, Chico's response seems to be "ooh, you wanna girl you can grab hold of":
He said: "I went on the net and started going into it, and there are models dying, people starving, so I didn't want to concentrate on the problem. I wanted to concentrate on the solution, so size zero's gotta go.
"Cos, you know, us men like them swervy, curvy and shaped like an hourglass."
Unbelievably, the lyrics manage to make Mika's vapid and patronising Big Girl seem like The Beauty Myth:
Ah, yes. Why starve yourself to death when instead you could aspire to be like Marilyn Monroe and take the more proactive route of taking an overdose instead. Well done, Chico.
Away from his new-found interest in feminist politics, Chico has also been developing his skills as a raconteur, presumably to fill the shoes of the recently-deceased Ned Sherrin:
"So, I said to the guy, 'Do you mind if I take one?'
"She looked over at me and... it was just one of those crazy Chico moments."
It's funny, something surprisingly similar once happened to Peter Ustinov. He once mistook 'a rambling tale in which nothing much happened' for 'a witty anecdote'; however, he at least had the wit to append an ending which rescued the tale.
3 comments:
Chico has a valid point. Your blog becomes incredibly trite on the occasions you post sarcastic entries such as this purely for the sake of being sarcastic.
Anonymous: I am assuming you are defending Chico reducing a complex argument relating to Western ideas of bodily perfection to a guffawing Sid James Carry-On punchline by accusing me of being trite purely for comic effect.
"I fancy Beyonce, me" is not a "vaild point"; it barely counts as a thought. It's on a par with Alan Partridge reducing feminism to a lewd remark about burning bras.
I spent the entire article assuming Chico was an American rapper. It all made an odd sort of sense. Then something in my brain clicked in, and I remembered that Chico is in fact a children's entertainer from Lazy Town. And suddenly the whole thing made no sense. But I guess that's just another of those crazy Chico moments.
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