Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: White (10/29/09)
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TITLE: The Modest Mannequin | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lizzy Ainsworth
11/05/09 -
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Cold, lifeless, and unnerving
A plastic body with no feeling
Sporting creamy flawless skin
And a figure unrealistically thin
It was just a another mannequin
The mannequin standing in the window of the second hand store drew plenty of attention to herself. It was not just the charm of wearing a wedding gown that drew the attention, but more so that the gown emanated a special kind of femininity.
The fitted, high bodice was simply accentuated by a large ribbon rose, and the skirt flowed out around her in all its gauzy glory.
Everyone seemed to think that living as a mannequin would be a dream come true; to have the perfect figure and wear every new fashion and style of clothing having it fit you like a glove. She knew better. She knew how it felt to be stared at and lusted after by men and women alike.
Both had been deceived by her plastic beauty, dreaming that they could become like her. They did not seem to realise that her beauty was only plastic and that theirs was truly authentic.
"Ah" she sighed as the feather duster swept over her. Today it was a nice feeling, not like the tickling sensation of her teen years.
She remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day she had tried to explain to a young sales girl what true beauty was. . .
"Excuse me!" a whisper seemed to resonate around the room.
The young sales girl glanced around the darkened shop in fright but only racks of teen fashion stared back at her
"Ha, ha, ha" the mannequin seemed to shiver as she ran the feather duster over the exposed shoulders.
"Can you help me?" another whisper spoke into the darkness. The girl dropped her feather duster in alarm.
"Who is there? What do you want?" she found herself asking, wondering if she was just imagining this strange conversation.
"Ah finally. . ."
"I can’t believe I’m actually talking to a mannequin. I mean seriously your job is to just stand there and model clothes so that people can see what will look good on them." Shaking her head, the sales girl rolled her eyes beneath the thick layers of mascara.
"I am living in deception."
Recoiling as if a snake had bitten her, the girl stumbled backwards into the sharp rack holding the diamond studded frocks.
"So are you, if you believe you can be like me. . ."
"Give me a break. I’m outa here" she grabbed her duster and flew it across the back of the next mannequin.
"No." It was not a whisper this time, but rather a command. "A woman is unique, if you believe you must all look like me, than you are deceived. I am so exposed. Women lust after my figure, my skin, my style and then men lust after those girls who follow me."
“Oh no, I never thought that I would hear a mannequin of all things say that to me. You sound like my Grandma,” the girl had grabbed her car keys and spun on her heel to leave the shop, flicking out the lights as she left. . .
The modest mannequin in her wedding gown sighed as the building plunged into darkness. She was an older mannequin now, and had seen many outfits come and go but the lesson never seemed to have changed. Many women had never learnt that lesson and many never would but for now she was glad to radiate the glory of a wedding gown rather than expose herself needlessly and deceive others in the process.
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