May all of your Valentine’s Day kisses be covered in red lipstick.
Shot by the birthday girl, Sophie Schwartz.
Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote one of my first posts for The FYD, titled, “On the Precedents of Sluttiness… and Trying to Combat Them.” Though I think this post is one of the truest I’ve written, it slyly slips under the radar, dwindling lonely in the isolation of Internet’s past.
So one one windy, winter day when I found myself risqué-ing my outfit with the mantra that “more” is, in fact, “less,” I couldn’t help but think back to that post. I had, though not for the first time, become the subject of my own work–the piece on display behind the glass. A year ago I was pointing at myself today, clad in a chenille mini-skirt and thigh-high boots. I was fully clothed in the sluttiest way possible.
For the TL;DR sake of my previous post, I’ll sum it up for you: generally, we are led to believe that the less you wear, the more scandalous you appear. Crop tops, bikinis, booty shorts, and the like. But I proposed a revised theory in which the more you wear, the more mischievous you appear, and the more sexually appealing you become. Tell me if I’m wrong, but aren’t monokinis “sluttier” than bikinis? Is it not “sexier” to wear over-the-knee boots with a short skirt than it is to wear my Supergas with a short skirt? Neglect that point–though I find tennis sneakers to be pretty sexy, the larger public likely doesn’t agree. But what if I were to wear shorter boots? It wouldn’t look as… good. It just wouldn’t.
I propose(d) that the images men create based on our sneak previews are more exciting than the skin actually behind all the leather, velvet, and denim. Tell me–am I wrong? And should I be slut-shaming myself for wearing my thigh-highs with my mini skirt?
Shot by the ever-lovely Sophie Schwartz.
I believe there is only one true rule to fashion: look good.
Don’t mix prints, they said. Don’t wear silver with gold jewelry, they said. Don’t wear white after Labor Day, they said. And screw all of that bullshit, I said.
I understand why you’d want to savor your white in the trying months that your thighs are stuck together by perspiration. Fine, take advantage of all clothing light and breezy when the weather deems it appropriate. But why can’t you wear white in the winter? We don’t let Mother Nature control our menstrual cramps–we take Advil and eat chocolate for that. So why should we let her restrict the way we dress? We must create our own rebellious fashion (by wearing white in the winter, if you will). Or else, fashion will never be created.
In order to deserve the respect of rule-breaking, then thou shalt not break the rules poorly. If you’re going to mix patterns and patches, or if you’re going to wear white in a snowstorm, then do it well. Look good.
Shot by the most fabulous Sophie Schwartz.