I was sitting on the wall, smoking, looking at her body. Her legs like lollipop sticks, so white they were almost transparent. The offensive ‘thigh gap’ gained through a sick combination of narcissism and voluntary malnourishment. Her overly long, strained swanlike neck. Arms dangling limply by her sides, her movements controlled only by the puppeteer in the sky.
This makes her sound like a supermodel or a ballerina – graceful, enviable, unhealthy but visually attractive. Or like a skeletal waif, small and vulnerable. But she wasn’t any of these things. The only word I can think to describe her as is ‘huge.’ She was probably 6ft tall barefoot but her ridiculous platform shoes made her 6′ 8″ or so. She was very slim, there was no meat on her at all, but she had ‘big bones’ that jutted out at alarming angles. She took up so much space with her body, her gangly limbs and big features. I imagined that once her personality came out too, her person could fill every room in Buckingham Palace. But since I’d never get to see her personality erupt, I’d never be able to prove my theory that she was larger than life in every sense of the term. What I didn’t know at this point was that within the next fifteen minutes she would give me the opportunity to complete my study of her.