Over the past few years, an aesthetic we like to call "snackwave" has trickled up from Tumblr dashboards. Now a part of mainstream culture, snackwave is everywhere: it's printed on American Apparel clothes and seen in Katy Perry music videos. It's the antithesis to kale-ridden health food culture and the rise of Pinterest-worthy twee cupcake recipes. It’s the wording in your Instagram handle, a playful cheeseburger selfie, Jennifer Lawrence announcing on the red carpet that she’s hungry for a pizza. In snackwave world, everyone is Claudia Kishi, and your junk food drawer is also your blog.
What we’ve written here is merely a guide to [...]
have you seen mileys new video nope holyyyys hit get thee to a screen
This is the gchat conversation I had with my sister after the first time I watched the video for “We Can’t Stop”—the video that broke Vevo before naked Miley swung back in on a “Wrecking Ball” to shatter the record again. “We Can’t Stop” is an amazing song. But it’s an even better music video. It has my number, and the director, Diane Martel, has the passwords for all my logins, the code to unlock my phone, and access to my HBOGo account.
Martel directed two of the years best/worst and most argued-about music videos—and to [...]
At Autostraddle, an opus on a "a chain of events has been put into motion which no force in heaven or earth can stop until it's run its course and we are left with the smoking, burnt-out ruins of a culture."
Caitlin Moran has already started her open letter to Amanda Palmer about how everything a woman does is okay, because she's a woman and that's what feminism means. Elizabeth Wurtzel will write an open letter to Moran on The Daily Beast, suggesting that she lose weight and consider some light cosmetic surgery, and Wurtzel's letter will then devolve into a 900-word rant that seems to [...]
A face emerges from the blackness, white skin against an even whiter wall.
-De los Video Music Awards de MTV?
She stands against a blank plane, eyes blue, eyelashes weighted down in black ink. Her mouth is parted, painted in bright red pigment like the women of the night in the outskirts of La Playa. She has come from the west. A single salt-laden tear hovers and falls. Memories of twerking bears and motor-boating a big butt start to form but quickly vaporize into a faint smell of stale weed. The sky is an unmodulated grey and lies heavy in a post-roofie molly [...]