The Lamentations Of Lucifer

Photographed By Ellinor Forje

At the London Zoo lives a lion with the stud number 666. His name is Lucifer.

Befitting a supreme ruler, his mane is dark and larger than those of other Asiatic lions, falling all the way to his stomach. He is magnificent to behold, especially when he stands on his podium. Most of the time he is calm.

But occasionally he seethes. And in those moments you can’t help but wonder: What is eating the old Light Bearer?

Perhaps it’s his near-total exclusion from the fashion industry. Well, not entirely. Over the years Lucifer has served as inspiration for many a designer’s seasonal collar. But how often has he graced the cover of glossy fashion magazines? Or been invited to those equally glossy fashion shows?

What’s that? You don’t just stampede the front row.

The same neglect applies to the giraffe, with its perfect eyes and lashes. In its perfection, I’m convinced this creature has turned many an erect mascara brush flaccid with envy. Yet we still wait for the day when we’ll see it in a major cosmetic campaign.

And yes, Naomi, I’m speaking directly to you now. That walk, the strut, was not invented by you, sweetie. The Serengeti just called to say they’re less than impressed with the swagger-jacking.

So what’s the solution? How do we stop Lucifer, and Naomi, while we’re at it, from pacing with rage?

Maybe it’s time he received an invitation. I don’t know, perhaps to the next Prada show? Then we could all enjoy the parade of zebra-mohawk-inspired shoes.

Man and Beast, together.