Taki Taki

High life | 25 August 2016

We are not created equal, and beauty is the least equal of all

OK sports fans, the Games are over, Uncle Sam and Britain hit pay dirt, and the prettiest girl of the Olympics was Morgan Lake, a black Brit high jumper who wins the High life gold medal for looks and proper demeanour.

Here’s a tip for ambitious mothers: take a lesson from Morgan Lake — the name is perfect, no agent could have made it up — and instead of sending your daughters to Hollywood, where they’re more likely to end up as high-class hookers, you should guide them towards athletics and the high jump. Morgan Lake is café au lait, has a perfect body, and a very sweet innocent face. She didn’t place but was in the finals, having jumped over one meter ninety-four. I know nothing about her except that she’s 19, and what I saw of her on the TV screen.

What was that Noël Coward song about putting your daughter on the stage? If she looks like Morgan, let her be a high jumper, so eat your heart out Jessica Raine, remember her? (I’m over her.) Why is it that grace and innocence makes my knees go weak? I suppose it is because I have a view of the fairer sex more common in an era more romantic than the present. I feel more alive in the presence of beauty, but I also feel longing, both spiritual and physical. But beauty has been downgraded these last 50 years. Beautiful buildings are no longer built, just ugly, modern so-called utilitarian ones, and I’m not sure about the last one. Boats are now extremely ungraceful and downright unshapely — they either look like insects or like refrigerators on steroids. Once upon a time there was nothing more elegant or beautiful than sailing boats with overhangs on their bows and sterns.

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