Fucking Fashion

Fucking Fashion

I have this drawer full of stuff I wrote over the years. Either published in the Dutch Runner's World or a few other titles, posted on one of my old websites, or just written and forgotten. If I find something that I find worth dropping on here, then that's what I'll do. Man, it is lovely being my own editor-in-chief. If you like them, you can find them all in the category ‘Doodles’.

I think I wrote below angry words around 2006. The anger has waned (as they tend to do with time), but there is still something I love in these words. My opinion has changed on certain points, but the bottom line still rings true. When I was younger, I wrote (and spoke) the strongest when angered or irritated. Happy that this no longer is my reality, but I can look back at this and smile. Rereading it, I see I have changed my mind completely on some of it, yet hold other parts of it still dear to my heart. Actually, some lines I have almost literally spoken in my TedX talk. I had no idea those phrases were already that old. Fucking Fashion I called it…enjoy the read :)

Yes. You are beautiful. Your features are striking. If you cross a street, you might just cause an accident. Your body nears perfection. Any clothes they put on you, you make them look like the whole world is stupid for not wearing the same. You are so gorgeous, you are so rich, you are a model. You have done shows for A, B and C, wow even C! Your campaigns flirt with all major cities in the world. Not a human would ever reject you. 

But what have you achieved? What have you actually done to deserve this? You, as an individual person, what have you done? Did you somehow alter your height? Your bust? Your ass? Who gave you your face? Depending on what one believes, it was God, Allah, your previous self who behaved properly, or just a nice gene pool: thank your parents. You, my dear, did nothing. You have been given this bonus, in an age where a certain look can actually give you wealth and status. You have been lucky. Then why do you prance around, looking down on Planet Earth, pitying the rest below you? 

If you weren't discovered (as if you weren't there before) as a model, then you would not have seen Tokyo, New York, Paris and Milan, you might not have done runways, partied like a rockstar and slept with one too, but maybe then you would say thank you if someone offered you a chair. Maybe you would have smiled and blushed if someone sent you flowers. Maybe you could have still appreciated a beautiful day without telling a story about a nicer day you've had in a cooler place, with cooler people, of course  Maybe then you would have remained a beautiful human being instead of an ugly hot model.

I hate the world that spoiled you. They gave you so much, yet somehow you allowed them to take more.

Petty level: 100

Petty level: 100