So what does it mean when you arrive home on a dark and stormy night to find an apparent doll suicide in your back yard? The properties to the left and right are currently vacant, so this poor, plastic creature obviously jumped from the second story of the house behind me.
UPDATE: Dan has provided an updated photo of the crime scene:
Here we have a feminist commentary that women are idealized either for their bodies or their faces–but not both in one person–thus, dehumanizing them into erotic objects that do not take a full-person into account (air-brushing, body doubles, etc. feed into this). In this case, this heroine chic/anorexic model has been marked up, used, and carelessly discarded, with tens of thousands of other plastic models available to take her place.
Although we do not know the gender of the perpetrator of this art–in either case, male or female, hetero, metro, or gay/lesbian/transgendered the body has been rejected instead of cherished. Is this the case of a brother mutilating his sister’s beloved possession? Is this reflective of same-gender loathing on the part of a child? Or is there a progressive artist living in the house sending a message to you, Becky–do not become overly thin–or you could end up like this? Or perhaps it is a shout-out to toy creators to come up with realistic images of women.