In a touching display of concern characteristic of its fine work battling the cultural movement to define women by their bodies, the media wants you to know about this model’s hipbone.
Anja Rubik attended the 2012 Met Gala in a creamy silk gown entirely reliant on strategic draping (and let’s be honest, double-sided tape) for its dramatic effect. Although all of her important bits were covered, apparently it’s been too long since we had a straight-up vag shot from a model or starlet, so we’re going to fixate on what might have been.
STEP ONE: First, you’re meant to acknowledge that Rubik is not wearing any underwear, because that’s important. Because not wearing underwear is somehow less sanitary than wearing underwear, because air can circulate around your snatch, and that can make you sick, kind of like how people once believed that you got the flu by breathing the night air. Air + vulva = filth. I mean, we all agree that vaginas are intrinsically dirty, so the least this woman can do is put a second thin layer of fabric between her germ-spewing ladycannon and the rest of us.
STEP TWO: Next, let’s draw your attention to the offending bone, uncrossed as it is by any form of undergarment. LOOK GUYS! This model has BONES! Let’s fire her. No! Let’s make a series of articles in which we print a billion close-ups of the bone in question, and supplement with some older pictures of her in other circumstances so we look all creepy and stalkery, like maybe we have a secret room at home with a whole wall covered in clipped pictures of hipbones, and someday when a hipbone goes missing and we are implicated the cops will come in and find that room and there will be a slow reveal in which the flashlight falls upon the hipbone-wall and the audience knows that OMG IT’S A CRAZY HIPBONE MURDERER.
STEP THREE: Let’s all talk about it! With our opinions! Is Rubik in need of a sandwich? More to the point, is her hipbone in need of a sandwich? How many sandwiches does Rubik’s hipbone require? Would simply placing a sandwich over the hipbone, thereby obscuring it, suffice, or must Rubik herself consume the sandwiches and wait for the flesh to accumulate over the hipbone in the normal way, assuming Rubik is even a lady for whom gaining flesh is an easy task? What kind of sandwich should it be? Something fatty? Pastrami? What if Rubik’s hipbone is vegan? Can you render a sandwich entirely out of coconut oil and avocado?
(Bonus points for referencing said bone's alleged sharpness with creative metaphors, such as whether it could slice a tomato to the width of a single electron. Extra credit for making wise observations about the likelihood of said sharp hipbone scissoring a sexual partner in half during intercourse.)
And while we’re talking, let’s fight about it! Here are some prewritten comments (from the venerable UK Mail, the anecstral home of thoughtful internet commenting) to get you rolling!
I feel very sorry for this woman if she thinks her emaciated and skeletal frame is anything in need of showing off wearing a painfully revealing dress.
It's a sad world when a perfectly normal person is criticized for being skinny. It just shows how much we normalise being overweight.
Not only is this girl ugly but she looks a lot older than she is and she is disgustingly skinny.
Listen to all the jealous FAT people on here... She is drop dead GORGEOUS!!!
My hipbones stick out and I am not emaciated in anyway I just have very little body fat. I'm sick of people assuming that this must mean I am an anorexic.
So the model is gross, and we’re all fat and jealous! Hey, do we all feel like shit about ourselves yet? Because that’s where this is going! Ranking on individual body parts helps everyone to feel super self-conscious about their tiniest "flaws," real or imagined, and keeps us fixated on how we look, and whether we measure up to whatever arbitrary standard of appearance is currently in vogue, often at the expense of using that energy to do awesome things unrelated to our ability to be beautiful. HOORAY! A VICTORY FOR WOMEN!
WHAT DID WE LEARN: Women are not collections of body parts to be publicly assessed and judged, and body snarking is never OK. If you wouldn’t like to hear it said about your own body, don’t say it about anyone else’s, and if we all pledge to take this route, maybe all this socially-imposed body paranoia will start to disappear. Sure, we might miss the fleeting sense of superiority said comments make us feel, but trust me, we’ll all enjoy life a lot more this way.