Frederick’s of Hollywood, 1960s
Fashion is one of the very few forms of expression in which women have more freedom than men. And I don’t think it’s an accident that it’s typically seen as shallow, trivial, and vain. It is the height of irony that women are valued for our looks, encouraged to make ourselves beautiful and ornamental… and are then derided as shallow and vain for doing so. And it’s a subtle but definite form of sexism to take one of the few forms of expression where women have more freedom, and treat it as a form of expression that’s inherently superficial and trivial. Like it or not, fashion and style are primarily a women’s art form. And I think it gets treated as trivial because women get treated as trivial. What’s more, there’s an interestingly sexist assumption that often gets made about female fashion — namely, that it’s primarily intended to get male attention and male approval.
Falling in love is very real, but I used to shake my head when people talked about soul mates, poor deluded individuals grasping at some supernatural ideal not intended for mortals but sounded pretty in a poetry book. Then, we met, and everything changed, the cynic has become the converted, the sceptic, an ardent zealot.
Tell me what your worst fears are. I bet they look a lot like mine.
Tell me what you think about when you can’t fall asleep at night.
Tell me that you’re struggling. Tell me that you’re scared. No,
Tell me that you’re terrified of life.
Tell me that it’s difficult to not think of death sometimes.
Tell me how you lost. Tell me how he left. Tell me how she left.
Tell me how you lost everything that you had.
Tell me that it ain’t ever coming back.
Tell me about God. Tell me about love.
Tell me that it’s all of the above.
Say you think of everything in fear.
I bet you’re not the only one does.
gee whiz! | Vintage Japanese 1970s Polka Dot Beige Dress with Pussy Bow (here)
We haven’t been together for 22 years, but we have been together for 16. Okay, that’s a lot longer than most couples. When we were born, you told me that we used to take walks in our strollers together. When we were 2, we were best friends. I mean, I knew everything about this girl. I knew her favorite color, I knew her favorite food. Then, you know, we got to be 6 and Eric made fun of me because it wasn’t cool to have a best friend who’s a girl, or even to know a girl. …So for the next seven years, I threw dirt at her. I like to call those “the lost years”…then when I was 13, she put me up against my locker and she kissed me. I mean, she gave me my first kiss. She taught me how to dance. She always was talking about these crazy things, and I never understood a word she said. All I knew was that she was the girl I sat up every night thinking about. And when I’m with her, I feel happy to be alive, like I can do anything. Even talk to you like this. So that’s what I think is love, Mom. When I’m better because she’s here. And now she won’t be. So I’m finished.
—Cory Matthews (via happiestshowonearth)