This might gross you out. You might want to look away…
In Paris again. I was sat outside Le Centenaire the other night, a little bistro on the corner of Oberkampf and Amelot, with a friend, having dinner, drinking, smoking. The city is slowly getting back on its feet after its August summer sabbatical, unwillingly so, perhaps, stretching, yawning and mourning the death of its suntan.
Anyway, I noticed the bump on my friend’s hand, jutting out just where wrist meets palm. She’s a cool chick. Works in fashion as a print and textiles designer. She explained that bump had formed over years of mouse-abuse, hunched over a computer screen, churning out those very lovely drawings one after the other. Such a lovely girl she is, my friend. But such an ugly… protrusion.
Mind you, who am I to talk? Witness Exhibit B below_
Oh, yes, I sport my own unsightly bump on the middle finger of my right hand. Years of sketching out all those lovely frocks. Its getting bigger… I wonder if when some future archeologist digs up our bodies, hundreds of years from now, that they’ll be able to guess what we did from our gradually deformed appendages and arched backs? Shudder.
Dont even get me started on the weird carbuncles and bunions that plague my fashion girlfriends. Chloe and Balenciaga have a lot to answer for. A LOT.