Is there anything western bourgeois, or at least well protected, children have gladly done which they not start abnegating with growing age?! Fledgeling here means becoming cool. In this connection the role of the skin is sure enough conflicting.
On the one hand, yea!, it splendidly tenses under the pressure of increasing muscles, flesh. Which especially attracts eye-trapping interest on particular zones. Whereas the zone’s value – along with self-confidence, grown-up-factor, and coolness scale – exorbitantly increase the shorter the overhung end of the tailor’s tape measure is: this unnecessary vermiform appendix, so to speak.
On the other hand, shit!, skin is porous for squirmy stuff. Less sinuous, but the more frizzily and wooden-gnarled hair penetrates and odours (you never smelled before) leak out. Whereas we violently counteract this wild gewucher with hordes and myriads of razors as to save our own childhood, we create a much more adult artificial skin with the dense paradise of various fragrance oils
But what about our mind? When it comes to children’s literature, children’s film, children’s toys, when it comes to the whole of the childlike we are Peter and Judas altogether: abnegation and betrayal. Until we have a baby on our own with whose toys – which we never had, but wished when we were children – we finally can play, again.
However, are the fantasies we have the same we have had when we were children? Are adult children’s fantasies childlike?
All images by Laura Plansker.