Wednesday, October 12, 2011

what's en VOGUE? fluff.

i made the mistake of buying a VOGUE magazine before getting on the train after work yesterday evening. after thumbing through about 150 pages of ads, i came to the first article. seriously. i paid four dollars to look at pictures of models that are thinner, prettier, and more fashionable than i will ever be. i was searching in my bag for zoloft before i ever even got to the editorials.

when did magazines become such an inherent vehicle for advertisements? i mean, i know the lifeblood of the magazine comes from the investors of these companies selling their products, but, c'mon.

estee lauder.
louis vuitton.
estee lauder.
banana republic.
dolce & gabbana.
bottega veneta.
dolce & gabbana.
david yurman.
guess by marciano.
marc jacobs.
miu miu.
donna karan.
st. john.
ralph lauren.
ralph lauren.
ralph lauren.
bally switzerland.
tiffany & co.
7 for all mankind.
hugo boss.
hugo boss.
jones new york.
laura mercier.
bottega veneta.
dooney & bourke.

this is all before i ever reach something that has anything to do with the editorial recaps of what the magazine will be revealing to us. this is page 86 of the magazine.

when did things become so engrossed in fluff? these advertisements, they're really not even advertising anything at all. most of the pictures are taken of, like, a shoe heel next to a made-up eye of a model. has nothing to do with anything. you can't see the full shoe, or the full make-up of the model. it is an ad run for thousands of dollars in a magazine that is known all around the globe advertising nothing having to do with the product they're aiming to advertise.

is it art? oh, it must be art. it is a fully abstract photo kind of advertising something that has kind of something to do with fall. it kind of makes me never want to wear the partial shoe in question. not that i would ever be able to justify spending 1800$ on a pair of heels, ever. if i ever became wealthy enough to consider that option, i should probably just be adopting children like angelina jolie. at least it may save some shreds of my withering soul.

but it's everywhere, this fluff. it's sadly what art has to do in order to survive - get fucked. that magazine wouldn't survive without the hundreds of ads pumping hundreds of thousands of dollars into VOGUE. and what's ironic about this specific fashion magazine, one of the oldest and most stapled of the many that are out there, is that so much of the content is geared towards people invested in the arts. yet no artist i know, of the underground performers, the people who start these trends because of their freedom in themselves and of the corporate ties that would shackle them into dress suits and ties... none of these artists could ever afford any of these designer prices.

mainstream media doesn't help, neither does the american obsession with celebrity. what used to be an inaccessible lifestyle is now offered to the millions of americans who want to be included, albeit the fact that exclusion is necessary for a product to be wanted. and yet there it is - splashed on the pages of VOGUE, the clean lines of a miu miu heel, retail price, 850$.

that's my rent. to buy one pair of the shoes that are supposedly going to make me fashion forward in the fall is the amount is costs to LIVE IN MY APARTMENT. insane.

maybe i'm jealous that these people make enough money to buy these really beautiful things that i could only dream about. but maybe i'm pissed that the work that myself and all my friends do inspires the designers of these beautiful things is being used as a vein for their pockets.

for now, all i can do is read the two hundred pages of fluff and scoff when i uncover a single column article on the "new wave wing's of desire", feathered earrings and extensions a woman in california now makes for her jewelry line for appx. 300$.

i bought an even cooler one on the streets of brooklyn from a real-live street artist for 10, and i can also make them for myself for about that much as well. that designer is making a killing on chicken feathers. and she should be ashamed.

but it's art, so it's okay, right?


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