April292011

I saw a bunny today.

It was a little white bunny with black and brown spots. It wasn’t some wild bunny who belongs outside. No, this was a bunny from a store. It had big black eyes, wide with the perpetual anticipation of fear, the way all young bunnies are. It was eating a dandelion plant in some of the stubby grass between the street and the sidewalk. There, in my ugly, run-down ghetto neighborhood, was this perfect gem of cute fluffiness.
      I was so struck by the cuteness of this little animal that it took me a moment to realize that this was not right and that this rabbit did not belong there, or really outside at all. Once I did, I sprang, or rather crept into action. I would rescue the rabbit, stockings be damned. Long story short, I didn’t manage to rescue it. The poor thing, unaware of the fact that I was trying to help it, hopped through the bars of a wrought iron fence, and out of my reach. I went on my way to school with a heavy heart, but perfectly intact stockings.
      What troubles me most about this story is not that I was unable to rescue the bunny, but that it was outside in the first place. I doubt it was a beloved pet that somehow made its way outdoors. More than likely, that poor helpless little creature was an Easter gift for one of the loud, spoiled, fat children of my neighborhood. One of their fat mothers bought it, thinking only that it was cute and soft, and not that it required food, attention, and a clean cage, and then discarded it when it proved itself to be more than a stuffed toy.
      It makes me sad and angry that people are so thoughtless and callous as to completely fail to consider that owning any animal, whether it be a rabbit, a cat, a dog, or even a goldfish, is a great responsibility. Taking that little life into your home is not something that should be done heedlessly, and the fact that every day people take animals home on nothing but a whim, unwilling, and unprepared to care for them, enrages me.
      I wish there was a way to enforce the licensing of pet owners. Adopting a pet and adopting a child should not be so different. People should not be allowed to take responsibility of any life without first being proven able to care for it.

The good news is that the good people of Red Door were extremely helpful concerning my inquiries about what to do in the event that I see that bunny, or any other bunny again, and have given me two rabbit rescue numbers to call. Even if the rabbit isn’t found, I think I may volunteer there over the summer.

Bunnies Misanthropy PSA Rants Red Door Sad Things I Wrote 

May52011
Everyone is all up in arms about this article, and to an extent I think they are correct to be so. The entire tone is absolutely disgusting and offensive, and it is clear that the people at FHM need to open their minds more than a bit, and stop freaking out because they may have just found a very pretty man attractive and they are now questioning their sexuality.I can agree with them on one point, though. While I do think that it is great that the fashion industry is so accepting of Andrej’s gender blurring, it’s very disturbing to me that he is considered to be the next big thing in women’s fashion. Don’t get me wrong, he is nothing if not beautiful. I hardly think that he should be banned from the fashion industry completely, quite the opposite in fact. I don’t even think that he should model only men’s clothes. He is a more than competent model, and should be allowed to model whatever he and his agency want him to. What bothers me is the fact that it seems more likely that the industry’s acceptance and embracing of him has more to do with moving the industry from ‘girls who look dangerously boyish to just boys who look like girls’ than some great, magnanimous open-mindedness and acceptance. Granted I imagine that my complaint with these ‘dangerously boyish’ girls is a bit different from FHM’s, but it is still a concern of mine.The fashion industry has never been one to accept a large range of body types, and as a woman with an extremely feminine body, the current fashion climate bothers me. I would have no problem with Andrej’s popularity if it didn’t seem symptomatic of a larger disregard for women who are shaped the way most women are, but it does. Androgyny is great, and it should be embraced and celebrated but if it is all you have, that’s a problem.It is annoying at best, and distressing at worst that the few contemporary garments I do own have had to be taken in at the waist or let out at the hips before they fit properly, and that it is often difficult for me to find shirts that actually fit my (not especially large) breasts. One of the many reasons I wear vintage is because in the first half of the 20th century clothing was not made for women without a single curve to their name. Clothing that is older than my mother is made for women who are shaped the way I am. Even in the 1920s, the so-called boyish figure was positively curvaceous compared to your average model of today.I in no way mean to denigrate the women in the world who are built like boys, I understand that it is a perfectly natural and often beautiful body type. People come in all sorts of shapes, and so long as they fit within the bounds of personal health, they should all be accepted. However it is not the norm, and while everyone deserves to be able to find, without too much ado, clothing that fits them properly, the majority of ladies are closer to being hourglass shaped than they are rectangle shaped and the clothing that is manufactured for us should reflect that.I would like to live in a world where the popularity of Andrej, or someone as androgynous as he is, was not a cause for concern but the fact is that we don’t. A mole can be an attractive and wonderful thing, but if it is caused by cancer it becomes another matter entirely. Of course the fashion industry, and the beauty standard it reflects will always have a narrower view of what is attractive and desirable than what occurs in people, but would it really be so very hard for it to reflect something that was more often healthy and attainable?

Everyone is all up in arms about this article, and to an extent I think they are correct to be so. The entire tone is absolutely disgusting and offensive, and it is clear that the people at FHM need to open their minds more than a bit, and stop freaking out because they may have just found a very pretty man attractive and they are now questioning their sexuality.
I can agree with them on one point, though. While I do think that it is great that the fashion industry is so accepting of Andrej’s gender blurring, it’s very disturbing to me that he is considered to be the next big thing in women’s fashion. Don’t get me wrong, he is nothing if not beautiful. I hardly think that he should be banned from the fashion industry completely, quite the opposite in fact. I don’t even think that he should model only men’s clothes. He is a more than competent model, and should be allowed to model whatever he and his agency want him to. What bothers me is the fact that it seems more likely that the industry’s acceptance and embracing of him has more to do with moving the industry from ‘girls who look dangerously boyish to just boys who look like girls’ than some great, magnanimous open-mindedness and acceptance. Granted I imagine that my complaint with these ‘dangerously boyish’ girls is a bit different from FHM’s, but it is still a concern of mine.
The fashion industry has never been one to accept a large range of body types, and as a woman with an extremely feminine body, the current fashion climate bothers me. I would have no problem with Andrej’s popularity if it didn’t seem symptomatic of a larger disregard for women who are shaped the way most women are, but it does. Androgyny is great, and it should be embraced and celebrated but if it is all you have, that’s a problem.
It is annoying at best, and distressing at worst that the few contemporary garments I do own have had to be taken in at the waist or let out at the hips before they fit properly, and that it is often difficult for me to find shirts that actually fit my (not especially large) breasts. One of the many reasons I wear vintage is because in the first half of the 20th century clothing was not made for women without a single curve to their name. Clothing that is older than my mother is made for women who are shaped the way I am. Even in the 1920s, the so-called boyish figure was positively curvaceous compared to your average model of today.
I in no way mean to denigrate the women in the world who are built like boys, I understand that it is a perfectly natural and often beautiful body type. People come in all sorts of shapes, and so long as they fit within the bounds of personal health, they should all be accepted. However it is not the norm, and while everyone deserves to be able to find, without too much ado, clothing that fits them properly, the majority of ladies are closer to being hourglass shaped than they are rectangle shaped and the clothing that is manufactured for us should reflect that.
I would like to live in a world where the popularity of Andrej, or someone as androgynous as he is, was not a cause for concern but the fact is that we don’t. A mole can be an attractive and wonderful thing, but if it is caused by cancer it becomes another matter entirely. Of course the fashion industry, and the beauty standard it reflects will always have a narrower view of what is attractive and desirable than what occurs in people, but would it really be so very hard for it to reflect something that was more often healthy and attainable?

Andrej Pejic FHM Prejudice Rants Sad Things I Wrote 

May102011

Why do you do this to me, Vitamin Water?

“It’s no secret that grocery stores double as singles’ ‘meet’ markets. You got strangers mingling at the (salad) bar, (cheesy pickup) lines in the deli, wandering eyes checking out the hot buns (we’re talking about bread!). Well, with chances to find love in every aisle, we’re here to help you glow. Whether you’re shopping for food or fresh meat, add this bottle to your basket. It’s got a bundle of nutrients including biotin and vitamins a, c and e to help support and maintain healthy skin, hair and nails. And to (naturally) sweeten the deal, it’s zero calories per serving. Oh look, there’s a cart cruising your way—looks like someone wants a sample.”

-Glacéau Vitamin Water Zero “Glow”

Let me start by saying that I love Vitamin Water. There are a few flavors that I am not crazy about, but for the most part I consider it my favourite non-alcoholic beverage. So naturally I was delighted when I saw a new flavor in the mini mart on the way from the Brown Line to where I was figure modeling today. And you can imagine my joy when I saw that it had biotin, and other nail-strengthening serums within the crystal-clear walls of its plastic bottle.
I was enchanted with the first sip. I have no idea what a guanabana* is, but apparently when mixed with strawberries it sure makes one tasty beverage. I can definitely get behind tasty beverages, especially ones that will make my fingernails grow since drinking gelatin powder mixed with my green tea was becoming unbearable. That, however, is a story for a different time.
I became less enchanted when I read the story on the label. Now, usually Vitamin water has charming stories on their labels. They have stories about living with pet monkeys, for instance, and about being a superhero, and jokes about phone sex. This story, however, falls short of the high standard I have come to expect from Vitamin Water label writers.
For one thing, the little puns are not funny. Normally they create a cross between a groan and a giggle, but these are just groaners (cheesy pickup lines, and hot buns, really?). For another thing it’s incredibly tragic. Maybe I am ruined by the unfortunate characters who populate my grocery store, but even if I wasn’t in a steady relationship the idea of interacting at all with any of the people there is very unpleasant. I know that I am not alone in these feelings, and because I think my sentiments could best be communicated by linking to THIS POST and THIS POST by the always immaculately dressed Solanah of Vixen Vintage, my favorite blog.
Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Not only is the grocery store an excellent place to see an awful lot of people who take no pride in, and put no effort into their appearances, it is also not a hangout spot. When I am at the grocery store I want to get in and get out while making sure to only run over the few wayward children who actually dash beneath the wheels of my shopping cart. It is also the one place where I am almost sure to be safe from the unwanted attentions of the gentlemen (and I use that term very loosely) of my neighbourhood. This is very refreshing, and I would not have it any other way. God forbid the fictional world of Vitamin Water labels becomes a reality; while I would not object to having a pet monkey or being a superhero, I would rather the grocery store didn’t become a “meet” market (chortle chortle). In addition to this, I would never want potential lovers looking at my food. I’ve lived with Michael for two years, and I still am slightly uncomfortable with him watching me eat. Although I know that this is mostly due to my own neuroses, it does not change that fact.
As if all this were not enough, that last line about someone ‘wanting a sample’ is completely depressing. Who in the world is sad and alone enough to pick someone up, or let themselves be picked up, at a grocery store? Don’t you have a few pints of self-pity Häagen-Dazs that will melt while you have uninspired sexytime with your pajama-clad lover? How would you ever manage to show your face within that grocery store again knowing that they could be there too?
Lastly, I have a personal problem with the message of the label. It suggests that only someone desperate enough to go looking for love within the confines of their grocery store cares enough about their appearance to purchase a zero calorie beauty potion, while in reality this is not the case. I know that this particular type of Vitamin Water is marketed particularly to women, most of whom seem to think that it is all right to let yourself go once you have found a partner, but that it simply not the case. It is never all right to stop caring for your appearance when you are in a relationship, and if anything it becomes more important than when you are unattached. While the good people of Glacéau could be setting a positive example by stressing how important it is to remain attractive for your partner, instead they patronizingly assume that whoever is shallow enough to buy beauty in a bottle is also desperate enough to bed anyone who looks at them longingly while caressing a cantaloupe, or filling their cart with TV dinners.
Please, Vitamin Water, fulfill your potential. Make the world a better place, and stop acting like your consumers are sluts. 

*Apparently it looks like this.  Thanks, Google image search.

I Am Overly Sensitive Sometimes Pointless Irritation Rants Vitamin Water Things I Wrote 

May282011

Dear Lady Gaga,

It is not me. It’s you.
I’m sick of hearing about you. I’m sick of hearing your pretentious, self-righteous, pseudo-messianic blather. You are not a monster, you are not anyone’s mother, you are not going to save the world, and you need to crawl out of Andy Warhol’s overblown asshole.
I used to like you, I really did. I thought you were cool. I found your satirical take on the pop music industry to be amusing, and even almost insightful. I wish you had allowed me to keep liking you, but I cannot continue to do so in good conscience as a person of taste.
When you first came on the scene I liked you for no other reason than that you wore strange clothes and made bad pop music. Since I love strange clothes and bad pop music more than anything, I was putty in your hands from the get-go. Then you made Paparazzi, and that wonderful video for it. I thought, “Here is an artist who makes bad pop music, wears strange clothes, and has some sort of artistic merit! Amazing!” No, you were never the most original artist. It was clear from the beginning that you stole liberally from David Bowie, Madonna, Grace Jones, and Marilyn Manson among others, but it was okay, because there was a certain tongue in cheek quality to your appropriation of their styles. It was cute, and it made me love you more. I was even able to excuse your tragic little relationship with Perez Hilton, since it seemed more like your were using him to climb the ladder of success than that you would actually deign to waste any real feelings on him.
After Alexander McQueen died though, something happened to you. You decided to go into mourning for him. What exactly this was supposed to mean, I have no idea, since you didn’t seem to change your attire or behaviour in any noticeable way. I began to grow annoyed with you, but if you had continued to make the kind of catchy, fun, empty-headed music I had come to expect from you I would have forgiven even that ridiculousness; but you didn’t, instead you just started calling yourself ‘Mama Monster’. Please. You are no such thing.
You released ‘Telephone’. Despite the fact that you went so far as to feature the Pussy Wagon in the video, I was unimpressed. The video in no way matched the song, and the Tarantino references were clumsy and heavy-handed. Despite all this, I still would have forgiven you though, had you cleaned up your act then; but again, you didn’t.
Your next single and video, ‘Alejandro’ sounded like Ace of Base, and looked like Manson. I know you’re friends with him and everything, but did you really have to rip off his aesthetic? It’s been done! While you were always derivative, it was clear that you were just directly copying. I gave up on you, and simply started ignoring you.
But then you had to go and make ‘Born This Way’. I understand that you think you’re like a lady Jesus and all, but are you so dim as to think that you can set out to make an anthem of acceptance? Anthems aren’t made, they just sort of happen to otherwise unassuming songs. The idea that you can make a ‘let’s all be tolerant!’ anthem, and have it stick for more than a few months is laughable, and that’s not even touching on the shameless bandwagon-jumping that is that song. Society is deciding that “bullying”* (a perfectly natural phenomenon that developed as a means of weeding out the weak) is not cool? Oh! I was born this way! I’m oh-so-tolerant! I’m so tolerant I can use the word ‘oriental’ in a song about acceptance, and it will not only make sense, it won’t be offensive!
Then you released ‘Judas’. I have nothing to say about that song and video, except for the fact that they are equally horrible.
Even then, Gaga, I did not hate you. I thought you were stupid, yes. I thought you needed to shut up, yes. I thought you were really, really fucking pretentious. I thought you were a privileged little snot (and since it has been co-opted by the PC crowd I hate, hate, hate using, or even thinking the word ‘privileged’), but I did not hate you.
I didn’t hate you until you wrote that ridiculous column for W. I cannot believe I used to think you were smart. That whole column sounded like something I would have written at age fifteen. At fifteen, one can sound like an asshole and it’s okay, you’re still learning about the world; you, on the other hand, are twenty five years old and so have no excuse.
Not all fashion was stolen from French painters, most of it wasn’t. I have never heard of Mark Bolan, if you want to refer to someone you supposedly admire, you might want to spell Marc Bolan’s name correctly. Rico The Zombie Boy never had that conversation with you, because Bazooka gum never came with tattoos. Fruit Stripe gum has tattoos, Bazooka has comics. I could go on, but I doubt anyone is even reading any more. I suggest that a certain ‘glam librarian’ take her narrow little ass back to library school before she mispronounces “Lacroix” again.
At least when I thought I knew everything, no-one paid me any mind. 

*I use quotes, because it seems to me that the current definition of bullying is really no such thing at all. Saying something that others don’t necessarily agree with is not bullying. Saying something that might be hurtful is not bullying. Bullying is when someone who is somehow stronger, whether that be socially or physically, victimizes someone who is weaker for no reason other than the fact that that person is weaker than they.

Lady Gaga Stupid Rants 

June22011
LadiesCute as these garters are, unless you are on your back or in some similar position they will not hold anything up. We must band together and demand attractive garter belts with strong garters, and metal clips!Bring back the stocking! 

Ladies
Cute as these garters are, unless you are on your back or in some similar position they will not hold anything up. We must band together and demand attractive garter belts with strong garters, and metal clips!
Bring back the stocking! 

(via )

Stockings Garters Rants Sexy 

June32011
You know what I dislike? The fact that overly-sensitive, painfully PC people are constantly confusing racism with racial oppression. While they are both very damaging things, they are distinctly different. Racism can be practiced by anyone, no matter their race, racial oppression can only be practiced by the race that has the most power in a society. Of course racial oppression is linked to racism, after all you can’t really oppress a group of people on the basis of their skin race without being being racist, but they are not the same thing.One would think that these people’s extreme sensitivity would allow them to pick up on the clear difference between these two things, but apparently they are just too set on taking offense.

You know what I dislike? The fact that overly-sensitive, painfully PC people are constantly confusing racism with racial oppression. While they are both very damaging things, they are distinctly different. Racism can be practiced by anyone, no matter their race, racial oppression can only be practiced by the race that has the most power in a society. Of course racial oppression is linked to racism, after all you can’t really oppress a group of people on the basis of their skin race without being being racist, but they are not the same thing.
One would think that these people’s extreme sensitivity would allow them to pick up on the clear difference between these two things, but apparently they are just too set on taking offense.

(Source: formerlyaeraspais)

PC People Too PC to Function Reading the Dictionary is Too Much To Ask Rants 

July122011

Wow

So apparently a company called Fem Phocus had a booth at eXXXotica.

Why should I care about this, you ask? Well, about six months ago I got an offer to do a (nude) set for said website. I was very interested, as the stated goal of the website sounded really cool and I was happy that it seemed like someone was actually doing the whole, ‘bla bla bla, empowering ladies by paying them to take off their clothes, bla bla bla, naked ladies, bla, bla, bla, we all love naked ladies, bla, bla, bla, I am just going to say ‘naked ladies’ a lot because that’s all you people care about, bla, bla, bla…’ thing in a way that was neither overly feminist nor just a facade behind which to hide exploitation that is much worse than any that can be found in the mainstream porn industry. Unfortunately I kind of went too far by assuming that they are paying ladies to take off their clothes. It turned out that although I state explicitly on my Model Mayhem profile page that I do not take off any clothes for anything less than cold, hard cash, the lady who runs the site thought that I would happily allow her to put my pictures on the internet and have people pay for subscriptions in order to look at them and that I would gladly accept nothing more than a CD from the shoot in payment. Sorry, but I’m not that desperate for my fifteen minutes. I did manage to hammer out a deal with her where I would do a two-hour shoot with her for the low, low price of $150. What can I say? I could use the promotion. I thought all was hunky dory, but no. This woman (I seriously forget her name, I think it’s Jessica something) started being nothing if not evasive about scheduling a shoot with me, and did not respond to my questions and suggestions of possible dates. When she finally suggested an approximate date, suddenly she only wanted to pay me $75. For a nude set. That would be on the internet. That people would pay to see. I may be young, and I may be a model, but I’m not stupid. Now Fem Phocus has a booth at eXXXotica, but can’t be bothered to pay their models to get naked on the internet and possibly jeopardize future straight jobs even though Jessica Stupidface Photographer lady is getting paid for subscriptions. Okay, cool. I’m glad to see that this is such a cool, female-positive, non-exploitative enterprise. Are we all ready for Suicide Girls 2.0? I sure am!

Bullshit Me Pornography Rants Things That Are Stupid This Is Why I Do Not Bother to Make a Name For Myself as an Alternative Model Things I Wrote 

July202011
the-absolute-funniest-posts: tweakyou: dirtyluxury: I would be scared as fuck if this happened to me. …but instead this bitch is posing like she’s in a shampoo commercial and shit. Dis legit actin’? This is really bad acting… the only thing that could make it worse would be if she tried to shake hands with them. These people have clearly only seen the shitty remake of Day of the Dead (if they’ve seen it at all), otherwise they would realize that this is a dream sequence. Things in dreams do not happen as they do in real life, and Sarah wakes up just after this scene. By her face it looks as if she sees more arms coming out of the wall on the other side of the room, and freezes mid-turn. I’m surprised they aren’t picking at the fact that the supposedly concrete wall is made of paper. Good job, guys. 

the-absolute-funniest-posts:

tweakyou:

dirtyluxury:

I would be scared as fuck if this happened to me.

…but instead this bitch is posing like she’s in a shampoo commercial and shit.

Dis legit actin’?

This is really bad acting… the only thing that could make it worse would be if she tried to shake hands with them.

These people have clearly only seen the shitty remake of Day of the Dead (if they’ve seen it at all), otherwise they would realize that this is a dream sequence. Things in dreams do not happen as they do in real life, and Sarah wakes up just after this scene. By her face it looks as if she sees more arms coming out of the wall on the other side of the room, and freezes mid-turn. I’m surprised they aren’t picking at the fact that the supposedly concrete wall is made of paper. Good job, guys. 

(via lostntheshadows)

Romero is God, Do Not Speak Ill Of Him Day of the Dead GIF George Romero Ignorance Doesn't Make You Funny Rants I Know My Zombies 

November302011

My Resumé

My resumé is short, but storied, and very little of it involves those strange little coverings we call ‘clothing’.
I took most of my clothes off and hit men.
I took all my clothes off and stuck my legs in the air.
I took all my clothes off and danced in a glass box.
I kept most of my clothes off and talked (while I made clothes to wear).
I take all my clothes off and stand very, very still.

I have to wonder, is it even possible for me to get paid for anything that involves keeping my clothes on, and even getting in trouble for taking off more than my coat?

I enjoyed my little stint as a baby dom, I really liked being a whore for a while, I loved being a stripper, I hated being a phone sex operator, and I used to really love figure modeling. Lately, though, my job history has been getting to me. I’ve always sort of suspected that there wasn’t much to me beyond my looks, and in response to that fear I’ve managed to convince myself that I’m really not that great looking; maybe doing so makes me more confident of my other charms, maybe it’s just my tendency to refuse to buy anything anyone ever tells me about anything, the tendency that my father calls ‘counter-suggestibility’. Intellectually, of course, I recognize that my resumé proves that I am anything but ordinary-looking, but I still prefer to convince myself that I’m just a normal girl with a normal face, pretty eyes, a sunken chest, stick arms, and too-large lips, because I’m afraid of being anything else.
I’m afraid that if I admit to myself that I am attractive, I will magically cease to want to maintain my appearance, that i will suddenly lose all other substance, or worse, realize that there was no other substance to begin with; of course this is ridiculous, just as I know in my rational mind that I am beautiful, I know with my rational mind that this is ridiculous, but these fears still hold. I’m afraid that if I learn to see the self that other people see when they look at me I will no longer be able to differentiate between my real self and the self who has spent the past four years being variations on the Live Nude Girl, the brainless vessel upon whom people project whatever they feel is appropriate.

Maybe when I can see myself without the clouds of perfectionism and counter-suggestibility, other people will be able to see that I’m a lot more interesting with my clothes on.

Me Modeling My Life Naked Nude Prose Prostitute Rants Sex Work Sex Worker Stripper Whore Writing Things I Wrote 

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