Barbie is dead.

Cappuccino con nata

Inhaling my cappuccino con nata this morning (yes, whipped cream comes standard when asking for a cappuccino in La Gomera where my travels has currently led me to. And hey, who am I to argue with local cuisine couture) while rummaging through a German tabloid in lack of English, I stumbled upon Barbie's obituary.

Bye, bye Barbie

And that's about time.
Considering the amount of Botox needed to erase the trace of time and any sudden emotion on her face, her veins must be spilling over with nerve toxic waste, I reckon.

And god bless us all wouldn't it be nice to break the chains of the beauty, pharma and diet industry slavery and stop this idiocy of thinking that looking like Paris Hilton, Elin King, Victoria Beckham and so the list goes on, is normal. Normal? Sure - for a 16-year-old, not normal for a grown woman. King’s thighs can compete with my biceps for crying out loud.
Why these unnatural bodies are being perpetuated as the ideal is BECAUSE they are not naturally achievable! This is simply a way of manipulating your body perception and promoting poor body image; making you addicted to diet pills, treadmills, endless botox injections and self-esteem flat-as-a-carpet. Making you miserable in the skin you are in is worth big bucks - and trust me: The Don Draper gang 21st century is laughing their derrieres off all the way to the bank.


There is nothing less attractive than self-esteem flat-as-a-carpet. It is ugly.

My cappuccino AM daily dog

Ironically, the more plastic you fill in your body to make up for that lack of basic self-worth, the less connected you often fell with your true self and values. Well, afterall you are filled with artificial waste now quite literally.


Let's just say, I am not one to shed a tear at Barbie's funeral.
She has certainly played her part in perpetuating a plastic-fantastic image that has been part of grotesquely brainwashing an entire Hiltonesque generation.

Read. Eat. Breathe. A sigh of relief.