Job-wise, where do you see yourself in 10 years? Dream big! Karl Largerfeld’s live-in cat nanny. I really believe Choupette and I are kindred spirits.
Edward Meadham for Meadham Kirchoff, S/S 2013
The colors & make-up for this show kill me.
Going a li’l crazy for all things Top Hat… wishing I lived closer to the SoHo store.
Every day I faced off against lackluster tresses, while two friends of mine couldn’t stop raving about their own glossy, sexy hair. They had recently stopped shampooing — just went cold turkey — and the results were marvelous. Both are decidedly un-crunchy, so I knew they weren’t making some hippieish statement about evil soap conglomerates or shampoo pollution in our waterways; this no-suds policy, I reasoned, must actually be good for hair.
What did I have to lose? I tossed out my shampoo, began simply rinsing my hair in the shower every day, and waited to be dazzled by my new chemical-free, naturally lustrous mane. The payoff was a while in coming, and I soon regretted having told everyone about my little experiment. Read more.
I’ve heard so many stories about how effective it is to stop washing your hair. Don’t get me wrong, I would love a chemical-free, naturally lustrous mane… but is the month of grease plastered to my head worth it? Thoughts please!
That women are joining in the ongoing disassembling of my appearance is salient. Patriarchy is not men. Patriarchy is a system in which both women and men participate. It privileges, inter alia, the interests of boys and men over the bodily integrity, autonomy, and dignity of girls and women. It is subtle, insidious, and never more dangerous than when women passionately deny that they themselves are engaging in it. This abnormal obsession with women’s faces and bodies has become so normal that we (I include myself at times—I absolutely fall for it still) have internalized patriarchy almost seamlessly. We are unable at times to identify ourselves as our own denigrating abusers, or as abusing other girls and women.
I’m sure most of y’all have read this already, but if not… gogogo. something I really needed to hear today.
Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror
up to where you’re bravely working.
Expecting to see the worst, you look, and instead,
here’s the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see.
Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in ever small contracting and expanding,
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated