Saturday, May 31, 2014

Leading from behind

Socialite Vera Sidika
Socialite Vera Sidika 
By Jackson Biko
More by this Author
If you live in a city you probably have heard of an urban breed called Socialites. In Kenya, this is a colloquial for a woman (mostly) with abnormally big buttocks and little imagination.
Nobody really saw this coming; one day we woke up and found that the female posterior had become celebrity.

It’s adorned flirtatiously in skimpy ware, photographed breathlessly and celebrated on social media by an army of testosterone-raged cheerleaders who allow themselves to be seduced beyond the trivialities that the charade represents.
The Socialite’s claim to fame is a banging body, wasp waist, dangerous curves, large tits, fake hair that reaches the aforementioned curves and high heels that would impress even a giraffe.
The Socialite doesn’t do anything. She doesn’t need to, not with buttocks like that. Actually, I lie. They hang out in swanky cafes in malls, sipping lattes and eating chicken salad.
They prowl high-end shops in these malls, shopping for a specific scarf that goes with a specific shoe. Then they hit the gym where their personal trainers beat them into shape, firming their money-makers (the buttocks) and keeping them agile with cardio.
Evening might be spent at a popular media function where they will pose for the cameras, always showing their good side, which happens to be all sides.
Mostly they are light, because some idiot out there has perpetuated this nonsense that the last word on beauty is light skin. They are constantly on their phones, tweeting and Facebooking and obsessively trolling these portals to see what is being said about them.
The Socialite is a media-whore. They thrive in the glare of the camera. Without media attention they wither and die. So they hound it feverishly. They post pictures on FB, pictures of their behinds thrust at the lens, because all people want to talk about (you won’t believe it) is a picture of a well-endowed bum.
But more than push her buttocks in your face, the Socialite will illustrate this body part with a presentation of her lifestyle. Socialites travel far and wide – if you can call Dubai ‘far and wide’.
You will see pictures of their adventures, in swanky hotels, lugging heaps of shopping, showing pictures of shoes and handbags. Visit their Instagram and you will be shocked at just how popular they are, just how popular a big behind can make you.
They have thousands of followers, thousands of “likes”, thousands of cheerleaders on the bleachers urging them on because they want more, more, more! You will need a strong stomach for that.
The Socialite doesn’t date the normal chap. That’s because the normal chap’s outreach is local. But if she has to, she will be dating a rich, shadowy figure; a government official, a politician, a “rap artist” (for the publicity), a celebrity, a KRA guy (these guys, you will be surprised are really popular) or some West African businessman with shiny shoes. After all, the bills won’t pay themselves.
They will often try dabbling in something to remain legit; sing, open a clothing store, a high-end salon, trade in designer shoes, etc. But this is just a front-office gimmick, something she can talk about during TV interviews to sound entrepreneurial.
A scandal in the tabloids doesn’t hurt them, it builds them. They are the Al Shabaab of social media; they thrive on chaos. So while a suspicious nude picture ending up online might be something that would horrify and embarrass a normal soul, it doesn’t faze them.
It’s all in a day’s work. Besides, those ‘well-placed’ pictures are always so well-taken that bachelors can hang them in their living rooms.
But these women don’t thrive in a vacuum; they thrive because men like you and me glorify them. We celebrate them. We applaud them. We fuel this trivial pursuit, this soul-expunging cosmetic endeavour.
They are there because we like them to be there, we need them to be there, they make us feel good, fuel our fantasies, make life more bearable. And it’s sickening.
You will not believe how many young girls in high school look at these Socialites and say, “ Damn it, I have a bigger ass, I can be better than her!” You won’t believe how low and how fast these Socialites are lowering the bar of what a woman should be.
Because really, what they are is brainless mannequins selling cosmetic beauty, and mostly, big buttocks. Teenage girls are stewing in the dangerous notion that if you are light-skinned, or if you have a large behind the world will embrace you even if you possess minimum skills.
But who cares if the bar is lowered lower? Who cares if girls are derailed into this joke of a lifestyle? What we need are pictures damn it, pictures of ass! More ass!

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