The Perfect Cut
by Gretchen Gales

Dora Faye stood in front of the camera.

“Okay, now twirl around … that’s it, Dora!”

The camera captured Dora’s tight, toned body in the blue taffeta fit and flair gown. Whimsically spinning, she blew a kiss towards the camera, and the flashes sparkled like the diamonds around her gold neck. Her longtime friend Thyme worked at a modeling agency in New York as a photographer. She got Dora the modeling gig with Lauren Fierro, the internationally acclaimed fashion designer. Thyme was skeptical about Dora working for the company. She had warned Dora about the fashion mogul, as she spent a large amount of time with her as she did the photoshoots.

“Whatever you do, don’t take any of her comments too seriously,” said Thyme, “Lauren has … high standards.”

Dora rolled her eyes.

“I’m being serious Dora. The way she cuts down her models isn’t out of friendliness. Sometimes I think this woman is a complete psychopathic —”

“Why, she is stunning!”

Dora turned her attention to the clicking of charcoal ankle boots and the red head making her way into the room. Her black spandex dress had a boat neckline, a sheer veil-like fabric just above the breasts, and gold and green triangular sequins clinging onto her goddess frame.

“Long THYME no see, darling!” said the woman with an airy laugh. Thyme rolled her eyes. They kissed each other’s cheeks. Thyme turned to face Dora.

“Lauren, this is Dora. Dora Faye. She’s the model I told you about.”

“Well she is absolutely aDORAble!” Lauren cooed, gazing at Dora hungrily. “Excellent selection.”

Dora could barely contain her excitement. After all, this was the Lauren Fierro.

“My, my, you have such a pretty face,” she murmured as she touched Dora’s cheeks. “What a shame it’ll be when it’s ruined by wrinkles and crow’s feet …”

Dora’s eyes widened.

“Oh yes darling, your body will eventually fall apart as well. And my God, menopause! You’ll look like a pufferfish you’ll get so fat! If only we were all young and beautiful forever like me …” Lauren lightly pinched Dora’s lower abdomen. “Got a bit of pudge here … nothing a little liposuction can’t suck out!”

“She looks fine, Lauren.” said Thyme.

Laura glared at Thyme, but did nothing more than that. She slithered behind Dora and lightly peeked at the tag on the dress.

“I see …” murmured Lauren. “ Size 0 … lovely, but what would be lovelier is a size 00 — No! A size 000.” Lauren’s eyes glistened.

Thyme appeared horrified. “Lauren that’s ridi —“

“Sweetheart …” Lauren interrupted, never tearing her gaze from Dora. “You know how they say good things come in small packages? Well, the smaller you are, the better you’ll be!”

Lauren’s cell phone alarm pinged.

“Oh, but I must be going. I must watch a dreadful game of polo for a charity event. And worse? They wear the ridiculous neon colored shirts with ponies.”

“I’m sure Mr. Lauren would be glad to know you approve of his summer collection.” said Thyme sarcastically.

“Darling, Ralph Lauren should be honored to even have my name.” Lauren purred. Before she left, Lauren pulled something out of her handbag and handed it to Dora. “The latest issue of Vogue, dear. Use it for some … inspiration.”

Lauren left the room, but her words swam in Dora’s mind.  

 

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Dora Faye opened the latest issue of Vogue. Page 75.

She bought a knife from a craft store. It said it could make the perfect cut every time.  

The picture made her look enormous. An orca was skinnier than she was. She tried detoxing, wraps, pills. It needed to come out by force.  

Dora slowly sliced a line through her stomach on the paper. Warm, metallic blood trickled down her legs. Dora dug the knife deeper into the glossy page. She cried out from the pain but laughed as she saw it spill out. Chunks of her golden lipids made a satisfying squish sound as they hit the floor. She wondered if there was such thing as a size 0000.

She supposed she would find out.

As the fat tumbled off, Dora felt herself floating. The fat no longer weighed her down.  

 

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Dora Faye looked towards the light — the spotlight that is. Once again she posed for the camera, today in a size 00 dress.

The scars could easily be covered by the makeup department, a lot easier than trying to cover cellulite. But Dora Faye took care of that. She kept a bucket of all of her fat in her bedroom. Every couple of weeks or so, she would feel the fat try to creep back in. What a gorgeous sensation it was, rummaging through her insides with a small scapel and fishing out the sneaky lipids. Dora Faye loved adding to her collection.

She was always lightheaded, but it was nothing to worry over. It was her body adjusting to the golden weights lifted off her thighs, stomach, buttocks, wherever it roamed. Sure, sometimes she would faint, but that was normal for the body adjusting to a more glamorous look.

Dora Faye finally made all of the front covers.