"While fashion showcases a variety of sexual attitudes and lifestyles (the industry is pretty open in terms of queer identities, BDSM play, exhibitionisms, etc.), such polymorphous perversity is only sanctioned for those with a very specific body type. My teenage favorite, Carine Roitfeld’s Paris Vogue, may have shown girls who looked like boys and boys who looked like girls doing all sorts of things with each other, but the boys and girls within her pages all looked more alike, as boys or girls, than I or my best friends and lovers do to any of them—that is, they were all very thin, very tall, impeccably groomed and mostly white, while we are all so diverse."
— Forever 69: Fu*k the Commodification of Sex by Fiona Duncan
"
…I’m hopping off of the carousel. Actually, it started to feel more like a treadmill. Fashion blogging has changed immensely since I first set out in 2006. Back then, I swore up and down that I would never show my face, let alone divulge my full name, on these here interwebs. Back in those days, all I did was write. Nowadays, I think most people hear ‘fashion blogger’ and think that you are a person who takes photos of yourself every day. I never set out to be that person. Yet somehow I became that person. And it’s really not my thing anymore.
Everything gelled at once. The not shopping, the deaths of hundreds because everyone wants to eat their marbles faster and faster, the piles of worn-once-or-twice fast fashion garments crammed into the racks of thrift stores that I see when I go on excursions for my vintage store. I’m one person, and I can’t really affect that much change in the world. I don’t want to buy something new and just hope it came from a good place. I figure if being more of a vintage and home-sewn-wearing gal is going to help me not contribute to more waste and death, then I’m cool with that.
"
— At What Cost? by Catie Nienaber (May 7th, 2013)
