There is nothing wrong with Alice. She is beautiful, young, intelligent and happy, living in Rome, enjoying its sights, food, fashion, and gleefully casting aside any man who dares to show an interest in her. She is untouchable and revels in the natural power she holds over the opposite sex. As she elegantly struts down Romes busy streets, her legs whisper "catch me if you can." Then her father tells her one day she is "no Marilyn Monroe" and that she "must be nice to men" in order to find her prince. The pathway to self-destruction opens up immediately for the self-obsessed beauty queen, whose self-image quickly takes a nose dive. Wounded by these hurtful comments from a father she barely sees, Alice begins to fill her gaping hole of anxiety with food: calzone and mozzarella, flavoured ice creams, chocolate tarts and pizza. Growing huger by the day, Alice loses all sense of refinement and allows herself to be used by countless men. Some pay her with money and others with food, which she eats as she offers her body and her speciality the ice cream cornet. Is this what being nice means? Presenting matters of body image and the self, Alice is a surreally comic tale with dark undertones and serious links to body dismorphia, depression and madness. It casts an interesting and original light on the way the female body is presented in society today, and subtly displays the connection between apparent image and self-esteem.