vicemag:

Owning Porno Used to Mean Something, Damnit
1. When I was in high school I kept my porn in a white box. Inside the box was a stack of magazines—almost entirely Playboys, because I liked the clean stuff—as well as a purple folder full of the images I liked best, so that I could spread them out on my bedroom floor and sit in the middle of them, kind of like a crude manual version of Tumblr. 
2. The internet really changed the way people masturbate. Today, if you want to see someone naked you just press the buttons and poof, there’s a boob. But as a teenager I remember thinking of pictures of naked women as a kind of secret relic, something you had to search out, anticipate and covet, which made them that much better when you got them.
3. I saw my first porn magazine in fourth grade when some kids in my class were passing one around under the lunch table. I remember feeling a weird sense of doom, like I was going to get caught the second I touched the paper, even though everyone else was laughing about it. I’m not sure what magazine it was, but the pictures were of naked women holding automatic weapons, dressed up like military personnel. I remember the feeling of seeing more than I actually saw.
4. The kid who owned that magazine briefly ran a business where you could buy a page out of other, similar magazines for a dollar. He carried them around in a duffel bag with a padlock on it. They were his dad’s magazines, he said, and there were more where those came from, if you had the money. I never bought one. Eventually he was caught and suspended. 
5. I used to occasionally go to work with my dad. I remember feeling an insane sense of agency whenever he would stop at this one gas station that had a rack of tattoo magazines with tits in them. I would stand in front of the rack and wait until I knew I had half a second with no one watching, and then I would open the magazine as if I didn’t mean to, in case someone caught me. So instead of full visions, I caught flashes and tried to embed them deep in my memory so that I would be able to see them for a long time afterward whenever I shut my eyes.
6. A very brief, insanely vivid memory from when I was probably four or five, of picking up a magazine my dad’s friends were passing around at a camp in the woods, and the men laughing as my dad took it away from me before I could see. I remember my uncle saying something to the effect of, “one day you can have that,” and everyone laughing. I don’t remember many other things from that early stage in my life.
Continue

This isn’t reallyyyyy fashion related… but it kinda is.
Porn is all about naked beauties and guys these days are so jaded by the internet that they forgot all about the excitement of porn/sex/and naked women in general. It’s all too easy for them now. 

vicemag:

Owning Porno Used to Mean Something, Damnit

1. When I was in high school I kept my porn in a white box. Inside the box was a stack of magazines—almost entirely Playboys, because I liked the clean stuff—as well as a purple folder full of the images I liked best, so that I could spread them out on my bedroom floor and sit in the middle of them, kind of like a crude manual version of Tumblr. 

2. The internet really changed the way people masturbate. Today, if you want to see someone naked you just press the buttons and poof, there’s a boob. But as a teenager I remember thinking of pictures of naked women as a kind of secret relic, something you had to search out, anticipate and covet, which made them that much better when you got them.

3. I saw my first porn magazine in fourth grade when some kids in my class were passing one around under the lunch table. I remember feeling a weird sense of doom, like I was going to get caught the second I touched the paper, even though everyone else was laughing about it. I’m not sure what magazine it was, but the pictures were of naked women holding automatic weapons, dressed up like military personnel. I remember the feeling of seeing more than I actually saw.

4. The kid who owned that magazine briefly ran a business where you could buy a page out of other, similar magazines for a dollar. He carried them around in a duffel bag with a padlock on it. They were his dad’s magazines, he said, and there were more where those came from, if you had the money. I never bought one. Eventually he was caught and suspended. 

5. I used to occasionally go to work with my dad. I remember feeling an insane sense of agency whenever he would stop at this one gas station that had a rack of tattoo magazines with tits in them. I would stand in front of the rack and wait until I knew I had half a second with no one watching, and then I would open the magazine as if I didn’t mean to, in case someone caught me. So instead of full visions, I caught flashes and tried to embed them deep in my memory so that I would be able to see them for a long time afterward whenever I shut my eyes.

6. A very brief, insanely vivid memory from when I was probably four or five, of picking up a magazine my dad’s friends were passing around at a camp in the woods, and the men laughing as my dad took it away from me before I could see. I remember my uncle saying something to the effect of, “one day you can have that,” and everyone laughing. I don’t remember many other things from that early stage in my life.

Continue

This isn’t reallyyyyy fashion related… but it kinda is.

Porn is all about naked beauties and guys these days are so jaded by the internet that they forgot all about the excitement of porn/sex/and naked women in general. It’s all too easy for them now. 

wgsn:

Our friend at fashgif created this playful GIF from one of our Coachella street shots #wgsnlive

wgsn:

Our friend at fashgif created this playful GIF from one of our Coachella street shots #wgsnlive

myretrocloset:

"Dig it babe, you need a new look."

Traci Lords as Wanda Woodward in Crybaby (1990) appreciation post. What a woman!

Greaser chic <3

(via historyofhaircare)

&lt;3

<3

(Source: ashliebryn, via shesreee)

(Source: vintagegal, via splitteddishes)

thechanelmuse:

House Party (1990) / dir. by Reginald Hudlin

(via splitteddishes)

 
hunting for &#8220;sport&#8221; is a waste of life and never fashionable. Animals are not a trophy. 

hunting for “sport” is a waste of life and never fashionable. Animals are not a trophy. 

(Source: sancophaleague, via everythingyoulovetohate)

pitchfork:

Pharrell at Coachella. Photo by Chris Tuite—more here.

He the bestest. Loved his performance and his guests. &lt;3

pitchfork:

Pharrell at Coachella. Photo by Chris Tuitemore here.

He the bestest. Loved his performance and his guests. <3

Gwen! Killin’ it!

"uh-huh, this my shit! all the girls stomp ya feet like this!"

Pharrell, i love you!

(Source: drowninginyoursorrow)

thefashioncomplex:

Beyoncé (wearing Topshop) and Solange Knowles (wearing MaxMara) at Coachella on April 13, 2014

One of the best moments of my weekend. Solange killed it! Love you! 
Fuck that sucka Tony!

thefashioncomplex:

Beyoncé (wearing Topshop) and Solange Knowles (wearing MaxMara) at Coachella on April 13, 2014

One of the best moments of my weekend. Solange killed it! Love you! 

Fuck that sucka Tony!

Check out this photo from H&amp;M L💗ves Music at Coachella #HMLovesMusic

Check out this photo from H&M L💗ves Music at Coachella #HMLovesMusic