Parasocial relationships are a strange thing. You feel as if you know a celebrity or someone of a social stature of note but they don’t even know you exist. But they talk to you, don’t they? Through podcasts, through interviews, and through all of the media you consume, as if it is the nectar of their very being. The consumer gains knowledge of someone whom they have never met. To them, the celebrity is a friend because this content makes the viewer feel seen. In Your Skin explores the extreme of the parasocial relationship, in which the viewing side ascends beyond the desire for connection and instead wants to become what they obsess over. All of this is done through the lens of body horror in a fascinating way.
Priyanka is a Bollywood uber-fan who has been obsessed with film star Ayesha Sen since she was a kid—she’s watched her movies over and over, and knows her dances beat for beat. But after a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet her idol goes awry, and Ayesha announces her impending retirement from movies, Priyanka decides that if Ayesha isn’t going to live the life she’s supposed to, Priyanka would be more than happy to take over for her…
Aditya Bidikar, SOM, colorist Francesco Segala, color assistant Gloria Martinelli, and designers Dylan Todd & Courtney Menard drop you into their Bollywood-drenched world and into the shoes of their main character, Priyanka. All of her life has been spent obsessed with actress Ayesha Sen. Priyanka knows every movie she has done and every step to her dance numbers but it extends far past that. There is a one-sided intimacy on Priyanka’s side where she knows the names of Ayesha’s childhood friends and other details that typically are reserved for those who know a person. At first, it feels like an innocent enough superfan.
But Bidikar and Som quickly show how twisted this connection really is. In Your Skin is Aditya Bidikar’s debut series as a writer, which is landed splendidly by a strong narrative that keeps unfolding as you read. This obsession with her favorite actress may be a substitute for her sense of identity. There is one conversation with her mother on the issue that solidified this as a 10/10 debut as a writer. There is a balance between insult and love pouring from her mother’s mouth about her daughter’s body. It’s a conversation I have been a part of my whole life, so reading this, I could understand this character’s mind so well. Bidikar’s scripting and dialogue is so strong that you cannot help but like Priyanka despite what unravels. I find myself feeling bad for her because I am seeing into this character with brilliantly fleshed-out traits. Is that parasocial? Can I excuse the things she does because I know her so well?
The first few pages of In Your Skin are an artistic smorgasbord from SOM. We see a number of interviews about Ayesha that provide a lot of context for her level of fame. But dancing between the video boxes is Ayesha and Priyanka. Their forms meld into one another as if through osmosis. There is a display of horror in the combining of flesh but SOM makes it an act of beauty for Priyanka. With Segala and Martinelli colors, the art becomes a red forward display of admiration and envy. The art’s flowing style is such a strong introduction to the series. The art style shifts and molds around the story with beautiful intimacy and isolation. The final page is a display of metamorphosis that I am not sure many artists could capture with such weight as SOM does.
The series begins in April, so I will spare you any spoilers but this is a powerful showing for both SOM and Aditya Bidikar as future household names for comics. The exploration of identity through a parasocial relationship is not something many comics have tackled. It fascinates me to see how one can believe they could exist in another’s skin despite never having spoken to them. Where does the parasocial relationship end, and does obsession begin? Find out in April when In Your Skin hits stores.