If you've ever felt disturbed by how cheap the tank tops were at H&M—but bought one anyway—you're not alone. In her illuminating new book, Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion, Elizabeth Cline writes that the average American buys 64 pieces of new clothing a year, or a little more than one item a week. Much of it comes from "fast fashion" chain stores, which produce cheap clothes in massive quantities for the purpose of creating new trends that cycle out every few weeks, then sell them for next to nothing. Even secondhand stores can't keep up with the clothing we discard anymore, Cline writes; she visited one Salvation Army in Brooklyn that processes a staggering five tons of used clothes a day.
So how did we get here? In a phone interview with Bitch, Cline explains what's happening with the U.S. garment industry—and what it means for our jobs, our shopping habits, and our sense of responsibility to the world around us.
Last June, NPR reported that the "end of gender" was near, citing everything from gender-neutral prom courts to clothing ads to suggest that perhaps people aren't so hung up on the male/female gender binary anymore. But despite the growing trend of gender neutrality, the response to disappearing gender constructs in politics and in popular culture isn't always positive.
The super stylish folks at Marimacho—the masculine clothing line for cis women and transmasculine bodies—are launching a new Tumblr! To kick things off, they're hosting a Hunky Heartbreakers photo contest and they want YOU to submit your hunkiest pics!
Lady Gaga sang that she was as free as her hair, and she has been spotted in a dress that appears to have been made from her leftover wigs. It's certainly a talking point, especially in light of her song lyrics which associate freedom with the choice of how you wear your locks. She's not the first person to use hair as a form of artistic self-expression, as I've found four women who beat her to it. Let's take a look at our hairstory...
Pejic distances himself from queries about gender and sexual identity. When speaking to New York, he referred to his androgynous beauty as "the situation," (which is a "situation" far preferable to Mike Sorrentino's six pack, yes?) and clearly is more focused on climbing the fashion ranks than challenging gender norms:
I know people want me to sort of defend myself, to sit here and be like, 'I'm a boy, but I wear makeup sometimes.' But, you know, to me, it doesn't really matter. I don't really have that sort of strong gender identity—I identify as what I am. The fact that people are using it for creative or marketing purposes, it's just kind of like having a skill and using it to earn money.
We pay a curious amount of attention to blue jeans specifically, a staple wardrobe item in virtually any wardrobe, both young and old. Despite Lee Jeans proclaiming in 2010 that "real men" suffer from "shop-a-phobia" and couldn't give a hoot about finding the perfect pair, the type of jeans a man slips on nevertheless seems to say a lot about how he projects his masculinity and sexuality (which is probably the culprit of the bogus shop-a-phobia). And who are these "real men," anyway? Are they the ones outfitted in Garth Brooks-y cowboy bootcut Wranglers or skin-tight indie rock frontman fare? Or are they one who prefer the saggy and baggy, or distressed and bedazzled? So many choices, so many (unnecessary?) implications about what started as a practical, durable pant for California gold miners.
Nancy's tumblr (called extra wiggle room in response to AA's message to women who "need a little extra wiggle room where it counts") is full of photos of her posing in various levels of dress with various levels of dressing (haha, but seriously she has a bunch of photos of her pouring salad dressing on herself). Behold:
As well as showcasing the quintessential Spinster Detective, the Miss Marple adaptations have plenty to say about England's shifting class structures in the decades after World War II and women's changing roles. It's all played out in microcosm in the fictional village of St Mary Mead.