Two words: Pace Ville. Oh the shame, the shame! The pumpin’ and the thumpin’. The winding and the grinding. The slopping and slurping, the swaying and spraying and decaying. Oh Lord forgive me, for I know not what I do.

What I did was shamelessly dress this mutton chop up as lovely lamb and go out dancin’ on a Saturday night.

And boy did I go dancing, Oh Lordy me yes. There I was among the teeny tiny boppers, all boogying their little hearts away. I think to myself, these are mere children – no hips, no boobs, barely any pubes between them! What am I doing here?

Oh youth! Vainglorious youth! Do they know what Maisie knew? Are these children even as old as Maisie was?

So, thirteen mojitos later, there I am on the dancefloor, and I get to thinking, as you do, about beauty, fashion, sexuality, youth and how trends and fashions come and go and repeat themselves and how the digital age is pushing the boundaries of fashion and consumer imagery.

Ooh I just love a bit of critical theory. I’m a sucker for the old post-critical critique or the ersatz, convoluted artist statement. But wow, have I found an artist statement for you. Two days later, I’m still paying in kind for Saturday night’s excesses, but I go to see a photography show called Scarab by fashion photographer Girgorcisku. This boy with the big name can talk the talk. Just read this:

Scarab is characterized by its parodies on beauty, fame and sexuality as conceived through the fashion image.

So far, so simple. But wait, there’s more.

…as nostalgic beings we can’t help but look to the past, perhaps in a subdued attempt to revive elements of it to its hindsight-abstracted glory […] Scarab critically applies this debate to an analogical examination of the Gazer’s bilateral existence, traversing his designated self as a repressed entity and his perceived self as a fictitious entity of his imaginary world that concomitantly gazes and is gazed.

My head begins to hurt.

Do these different solipsistic realities lead to a disharmonious synthesis at the behest of the Gazed’s scopophilia?

I don’t know. My hangover has resurfaced. I’m going to stick to looking at the pretty pictures.

Because these are beautiful photos. Some are hazy and indistinct with a nostalgic feel. A young man sits with his back against the wall while a translucent figure hovers beside him. Others are clearer and simpler; two girls lie beside each other on an ornate carpet. Three girls in silver dresses sit in a room; one holds an antique camera. Two Aryans in shiny tracksuits hug each other (I can find no other way to describe this image; I know it sounds weird). In one of two very small photos a girl looks out at us from an overexposed, almost blank background. And in a teenager’s bedroom a young man in his underpants shouts and points a fan at a girl in a bra and bright blue trousers with balloons all around and a Smashing Pumpkins poster on the wall behind.

With a confidence that belies his tender years, Girgorcisku tells me his photos are “about fashion”, but they are not fashion photos. He says that his images play with the tension between the Gazer i.e. the viewer or consumer and the Gazed. He wants the viewer of the image to consider their own position as Gazers of the fashion image. This in itself is not a particularly original idea, but Girgorcisku does take it further, and uses some very big words in the process.

Young Girgorcisku wants to challenge what he calls “the dream factory of fashion”, but the irony is that he still uses pretty young things as his models; there are no old, fat people in his photos. OK there is a pig’s head in one of them – this, according to Girgorcisku represents the old conceptions of the past which hold us back. He calls this the retardation of evolution and a shiver runs up my spine. Is that what I did in Paceville last Saturday night; retard evolution?

Scarab by Girgorcisku was on show for just five days at 43 Lascaris Wharf, Valletta. The quoted pieces are extracts from Girgorcisku’s artist statement available at the exhibition. Girgorcisku can be contacted on This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .