plastic

The first time i heard the song Barbie Girl by Scandinavian trashy pop act Aqua, my kinkometer hit, well, orange... -ish. Yellow, not sure, i haven't worked out all the shades of alert, let's just say that i didn't fail to notice the kink potential of the tune.

Turning a person into a doll, that's only there for you to play and have fun with is a concept that most people who read this blog will be familiar with. Barbie tells us that life in plastic is fantastic, but is it really? Sure, plastic features are impeccable, faultless, a sort of idealised, everlasting perfection but a body encased in plastic, as the fetish is acted on by most people who are plastic-doll-inclined, has echos of imprisonment and suffocation in a dehumanising, objectifying way.

Boo-hoo, some of you might think. Ok, i do get the appeal of "modifying" one's body to remove its susceptibility to decay and turn it into a desirable, timeless plastic toy made to entertain but what i would associate with this are things like shaving or plastic surgery (more than sticking my human head into a plastic one) this way i seem to retain more of an element of humanity that i'm keen not to lose.



The idea also reminds me of a Japanese videoclip i watched where two seemingly baywatch-inspired, doll-like characters live their tragic, comic, plastic, hairless love story.