Oh, Tall Lady, how do I love thee, let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth, breadth, and height so much so that I took great pains to actually calculate your height.
First, I downloaded Resident Evil: Village’s Maiden demo on PS5. Even in my brightly lit living room, in the middle of the day, that demo still gave me the creeps. I don’t typically play horror games, but I do enjoy them, preferring to experience them via Let’s Plays. Being in the driver’s seat was a new and terrifying experience for me, but I’d do anything for you, Big Lady, so I squashed my discomfort and soldiered on.
The first thing I noticed was your ornate chair in the wine cellar. I thought I might be able to extrapolate your height if I could find an analogue for your antique chair in the real world. Oh, my dear Big Lady, I should have known your taste would be immaculate and therefore completely unique. I was unable to find a chair in our world suitable for your grandeur.
I’ve never played a Resident Evil game before, but I’ve seen enough of them to get an idea for how they work, particularly their puzzles. After solving the maroon eye riddle — something I feel oddly proud about since I was able to do it without help — I discovered a book detailing your family’s history as wine makers. One detail in particular stood out.
“The winemaking techniques of Castle Dimitrescu can be traced as far back as the 15th century.”
With this, I can reasonably assume your home was constructed sometime in the 15th century. Filing this tidbit in the back of my mind, away I went to further plunder your (home’s) depths.
Here’s where things get technical. After an unpleasant confrontation with one of your daughters and the final encounter with you yourself at the courtyard door, I’m able to come to a somewhat reasonable conclusion about how tall you are.
You have to duck through the courtyard door to reach me, and when you stand back up to your full glorious height, I can see that your shoulders are about the same height as the top of the door. I wasn’t able to find a reasonable comparison for your chair, but as I was perusing the dimensions of antique chairs on the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s website, I found a 15th century French door.
Since I already know that your home is at least that old, I thought it reasonable to use the measurements for that door to determine your height. Of course, wonderful woman for whom I would gladly act as your personal pinata, this is assuming your home isn’t older than the 15th century and that no modern renovations have been done in the intervening time.
With all those assumptions in place, here’s what I’ve come up with. The measurements for the door put it at 86 inches tall, solving your height from foot to shoulder. Now, to determine your full height, I Googled the average length of a head which is eight to nine inches. I added an extra inch because nothing about you, you big-arse, scary-arse BAMF, is average making the length of your head from shoulder to crown 10 inches. Add that to the 86 inches and you’re 96 inches tall — or eight feet.
For reference the world’s tallest woman was recorded at seven feet nine inches and it stands to reason that you are no mere mortal, so you should be a bit taller. I know that my calculations rely on assumptions and leaps in logic, but what is my love for you — a lady who would relish pulling my intestines out through my ears and rather than that fact terrifying me it makes me like you more — than a leap in logic?