There were monster claws involved.

So, this weekend I went to the Lady Gaga concert in NYC: the first concert I've ever been to in a nice venue with seats, where I could sit and see the stage and all that jazz. And while the music was great (kudos to performers who actually sing instead of lip sync), I spent most of the evening staring at Lady Gaga. Specifically, her body. Specifically, her belly. She has this delightful, rounded little torso and it completely freaking hypnotized me.

See, this is the weird part. Lady Gaga is one of the most normal-looking celebrity women I see. Yes, normal. Look at her arms, her thighs, her proportions. Contrast Rihanna, who always looks like she was extruded from a machine, or like some sort of articulated doll. And compare Amanda Palmer, whose belly is slightly softer than Gaga's but was too fat for her label. I am in love with Lady Gaga and her non-anorexic belly.

One of the criticisms of haute couture is that a model's physique makes already avant garde designs look even more alien---a 6-foot 100-pound woman is just beyond the average person's experience. But Lady Gaga is a more or less average-to-petite young woman, and she totally rocks the weird fashion. She makes me want to run around in a PVC bodysuit with a rooster hood, or no pants with giant hoof-heels, or whatever weird thing you can imagine. She is really inspiring.