I took several of these serious models with non-model people walking by. Then I decided that the emptiness of the walkway said most of what I wanted–even though there is a couple coming out of the vanishing point. I can’t say I don’t like the world of fashion and exorbitant beauty, even though I know that the forlorn pseudo-dismay of these models is best described by emptiness. It is vanity: theirs and mine. Maybe I just like sparkly things, maybe I have a part that is still hooked by the dream of it all. Does this kind of beauty really does stop at the skin? The designers tell similar stories over and over again and people (me too!) lap them up with the fervor of soap-opera addicted not-so-busy-bodies. How many ways can we see LV or Gucci stirrups? How many ways can a dead head hear Sugar Magnolia. We seem to be joiners, we humans, we want to belong. We find distinction in our areas of similarity. ”I am different from you” because I have this hand bag (that one million other people have) or this camera or because I get this music that only one million other people get, but not you.
This store is part of a really amazing piece of architecture in Vegas. All the stores are as expensive as possible, of course. The lines of it look like the architect attached a pencil to a slinky and made a building out of a play session.