You keep waiting for some fashion designer to sheepishly admit their entire industry is a sham. A middle school girl could illustrate the same rehashed apparel cutouts to her Surinamese slave seamstress teams and produce a tiny jacket. Tommy Hilfiger hires ten million dollars worth of the world’s most expensive walking mannequins, slaps them in a shirt with the middle part cut out, and waits for hyperbolic gay men to scream, ‘Bravo’. Also watch Bravo. I finally understand the name of the channel. The Hunger Games’ Capitol had more self-awareness.
The burden of The Emperor’s New Clothes routine rests almost entirely on the shoulders of women. And men who adore belts. It’s easy to blame an amorphous patriarchy and conspiratorial meetings at the Water Buffalo Lodge. Less easy to understand how a self-serving industry of cosmetics and fashion and Katy Perry music videos create a sinkhole of emotional poverty filled by shopping and blame. Satin baseball jacket. You’ve brought back the 70’s. Genius.
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