“You talkin to me?”

“I’m going to show my vulnerability to you Mirror…”


“You know, it’s not entirely appropriate to do so, me being a queen n’all, but I must admit I feel a little insecure and I am craving reassurance…”

“I’m sorry to hear that, I’ll certainly do my best to please you.”

“Don’t dice your words Mirror, despite my insecurities I am very much opposed to word dicing in all its manifestations; needy? Perhaps… but advocator of word dicery? Not even for a second.”

“Understood ma’am.”

“Ok here it goes- am I the fairest in the land?”


‘Ugly fuckin’ beauty’ is an installation in a gallery in Dublin featuring top Irish models this December. I can’t claim to be an expert on art (although I secretly suspect I probably am or will be) but I expect the general point will be to, in some way, subvert publicly held perspectives of female beauty and inject some 3d emotion into an often 2d profession.

Anyway, the title is catchy and it sparked me a’thinkin about mirrors. (By the way- here is a link to the website http://www.mox.ie/ I enjoyed looking through it).

The focus in the story I allude to above is on the wrong character. Snow White is exceptionally boring, her absolute ‘fairness’ is sleepy in the extreme. But the queen?! What a dinner guest! Utterly riddled with all the neurosis that we (by which I mean I) lug around our necks all day like a weighty bag of offal fed slugs slurring insults up at your slack-jawed face. But she asks the wrong question and hilarity ensues. Well something ensues anyway, I forget what… it may have been anti-Semitism.

Walt Disney
Walt Disney

Here’s what she should have asked:

“Will I do?”

“Well, yeh you’ll do queen, it’s fine, don’t murder anyone”


Ah, a title we all covet. And I’m not about to suggest some trite notion that it’s what’s on the inside that counts- for all I know the meaning of life might lie in ridding yourself of that humpback. What I am saying is those of us who are fixated on ‘appearing’ in a certain way are chasing their metaphysical tails.

Unlike fairy tales, there are no absolutes in reality.


Instead of asking the mirror- “Do I look good?” what about…

“Do I look bad?”

I’m going to try it. Maybe then I can finally get over my addiction to vanity and take off this cat suit. The codpiece chafes but my God I look amazing.


DISCLAIMER: Mirrors can’t talk.


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