No day in Miami is an ordinary day.
Driving along Biscayne Blvd. near Bayside, it’s impossible to miss the 6 story advertisement from Perry Ellis, Inc.
The problem, however, is the following: what the Hell is going on in the picture and why is it on the side of a bank?
Despite my best efforts before this writing, Perry Ellis, Inc. did not respond to my request for a copy of the advertisement. Here is the description:
On the top 6 to 8 floors of Bank Atlantic, a rather perplexing image of a man in agony with a girl in his arms looms over the Miami harbor. A girl in the arms of some fruitcake in a fashion ad is usually par for this city except if the girl looks dead.
And young. The male model isn’t very big to begin with and the allegedly legal female’s torso goes from neck to upper thigh across his arms. There is no head or legs to give a solid age approximation.
Maybe the ad was originally intended for places where they condone that kind of stuff.
Alcohol poisoning or date rape seem to be the only two possibilities to this decidedly negative beacon to nearby interstellar civilizations.
I wouldn’t put necrophilia past this image. Since we’re in Miami, let’s add transvestite to the list of messages conveyed by Perry Ellis, Inc. on the windows of Bank Atlantic on Biscayne Blvd.
That’s a lot to absorb. In review, there is a Nubian transvestite looking quite dead in the arms of her allegedly necrophiliac companion who is clearly upset that trouble is coming.
It’s the last image you will see before leaving on your casino cruise to the Bahamas.
According to their site, Perry Ellis, Inc. specializes in “creating fresh new classics”. Based on the photos, one must conclude that the definition of fresh means not dead yet.
The real Perry Ellis died a long time ago. At least before heroin chic was in style and eating was clearly out. It would be unfair to knock Perry Ellis, Inc. After all, they didn’t start the madness, they just kept all the sick bastards from marketing on their payroll like everybody else.
The fashion sites are essentially carbon copies. They all say You’re a burnout coke junkie but a damn good looking one that will get some play by wearing our slave labor shit.
Unfortunately, there’s no direct blame for anything concrete except that a bank will risk it’s reputation for a couple of extra dollars. Makes me wonder exactly who authorized the advertising contract. It had to be at the top because buildings don’t get painted with authorization from the bottom.
Art has a place. In this case, the place is wrong.
