Dead is the New Sexy


Collin was just driving me home from the doctor, who was all, “Yeah, you have ATOMIC eczema… that will be 25 dollars.”  Tragically, he had his eyes on the road instead of where I was pointing and mumbling, “Holy… um… holy… UM HOLY POINT POINT POINT.”  So you’re just going to have to take my word on this one…

But I swear to god I saw a woman in a bridal gown lying upside down on the steps of the Mellon Institute.

I think she was being photographed.  I mean… I didn’t see a photographer.  But… why else would that be happening?

She maybe was just some poor bride who finally fell down after trucking through the ceremony, the reception, the after party, the after after party, the post-wedding brunch, the brunch after party, the brunch after after party, the brunch after after after party, a Monday at work where everyone kept asking her why she hadn’t changed since Saturday morning (how rude), happy hour, running back to the office to grab her brief case and a few cruel steps away from the bus stop tripping on the concrete steps and dashing her wifely brains out.  But I guess it’s OK because she didn’t die single?

Which brings me back to the photo shoot possibility: assuming there WAS a photographer hiding behind a column or something, why is “dead bride on concrete steps” something that should be the subject of a photograph? Maybe I don’t get art.

Or maybe I hallucinated the whole thing.  That’s somehow the least upsetting possibility.


  1. I am convinced that eczema is dermatologist-speak for a shoulder shirt and “I dunno.”.

  2. I have a weird rash right now. I expect that if I go to dermatologist, they are going to tell me eczema. Eff that. I’ve got Benadryl extra strength gel.

    And what a weird sight to see. Maybe the WIC murdered her. Poor girl.

  3. ewy. that is my biggest photo pet peeve. The look of death or violence is not equal sexy! stop it, fashion world!

  4. No, see. You don’t understand. The bride, you see, she symbolizes your subverted dreams and desires. The stairs are, like, life. And stuff. You know, your soul. Or a peanut butter sandwich. And your [the bride's] spirit is dashed against the cruel spongey sandwich bread of fate. It’s art, man. Look inside and you’ll know.

  5. That scares me. Reminds me of this: http://onecatperperson.blogspot.com/2010/04/um-really.html

    Makes me wanna sing Toadies.

  6. Other pet peeves in wedding photography: she is sitting on the ground, looking adoringly up at him. But at least she’s still ALIVE to be subservient. Maybe the dead bride photo is what happens when she gets sassy and stands up for a photo or two.


  7. i feel like there was a photo shoot like that on america’s next top model. its embarassing to admit i watch that, isn’t it? oops

  8. Pingback: Circus | HitchDied

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