PC: Steven Meisel Vogue Italia April 2009
Mr. Fashion-Industry can be so impossibly fickle and transient. One moment he is tearing your heart and soul out of your chest calling you a fat fuck, and the next moment fat becomes the new skinny and he’s purring “darling...” in your ear. The more I live in the world, the more I see a hypocritical contrast in myself and in everything - everywhere. I feel like there's always a small part of us that tries to be something we're not. Nothing makes this more obvious than fashion. I wonder whether fashion magazines should have any words in them at all and instead remain a strictly visual art. Sometimes, the words confuse the point. One page is telling me to “give to those in need" and the next page suggests that I cannot be truly happy if my hair isn’t shiny. How does one reconcile these extremes? Should I donate to charity as they suggest, or buy those seven hundred dollar panties on the next page? Am I supposed to go to that environmental awareness gala in order to help in some way or is it just another excuse to have my picture taken in that fifteen hundred dollar cotton dress? Can I reconcile the psychological depravity that seems to be fashion’s shadow, with an honest appreciation of beauty? How much longer can this go on? I cannot dive deep in shallow water.