Dead-girl chic

This is entirely too creepy:

No, really:

Not that you'd want to, necessarily:

I suppose this could be listed as a skill on one's C.V., especially if one hopes to work for Quentin Tarantino some day, but there's something fundamentally askew about simulating brutal violence against women (they'd never do this to men) to show you how "beautiful" it is. It is not.

Aside: About twenty years ago, I played a Dead Guy. Sort of. We had been doing an online soap opera in text form, and somebody got the idea of putting some of the scenes on video. So we shot a "murder" one night in Kerr Park, drawing some unscripted attention from the OCPD — which, of course, made the tape that much more entertaining. (The police, for their part, seemed mostly relieved that it wasn't a real killing they'd have to investigate, though they did mention something about permits.) You can be sure that no one remarked on how lovely I looked as a victim.