Airworld
Every day again it’s a surprise how late she has to get up. Sleep has put aside its intangible nudity. The point in time asks her to choose a uniform. Lying there in her suitcase the outfits still feel like weak coverings . The pockets and folds that are recognisable make the association with uniforms not too difficult. She knows her suits all serve the same purpose, the delightful power of anonymity. Even her face can hide unwanted expressions behind a mask of fabric. She enjoys the detachment. The vulnerability that shines through her uniform she’ll just have to put up with. She has to succeed sometime in turning her own corporality into a sexy tool as well. Only then will the passengers really feel subordinate, which is in her eyes more than the generally accepted synonym for safety, the reccuring topic of conversation at work.