6 April 2010

WHEN THEIR SHIFT ENDS



They go shopping



They listen to music



They go out to dinner



They attend fashion parties



They take pictures of us


That lady in the window, glamorously dressed from head to toe. She was more than plastic and wax, she was the only reason we walked into those pricy shopping stores and unashamedly wandered into fitting rooms, then took that tension building final stop over to the "ENTER YOUR PIN PLEASE" cash register. She was more than her stunning frame and slimming figure; behind that glass laid a woman with a fabulous personal style, that any woman could easily borrow for their own closets. Mannequins, the dummies that intelligently spoke to the bodies of women. Sophisticated life-size dolls that we played with. Constantly dressing and undressing them, until what they wore and how they wore it, reflected the wardrobe of our imaginations. A 24 hour display of eye welcoming fashion, made for every anxious little girl that passed by with her mom or every eager teenager out with her friends. But above all, it was an eye begging fantasy for women with handbags, which every mannequin knew secretly, kept tiny rectangle currency inside her purse.

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