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Entries in Candice Swanepoel (3)

Thursday

Mar212013

Sensual Girls: Candice Swanepoel | Emily DiDonato | Nomi Calls Egyptian Women from Rittenhouse Square

Anne On Mouthwatering Luxe

Food is consumed by mouth and clothing worn on the body, says Luxirare. That makes both intimate experiences. This is a vision I can relate to. The authors write: “The new definition of luxury will not depend on mass production or the “high” price tag. There is no false creation of the “it” item and its corresponding “scarcity” that this item will “sell out”. The new definition of Luxury will not only depend on the quality of materials used, but the time and amount of thinking it takes to create it.”

As a Smart Sensuality woman, I read these words as ‘right on’ — with one huge omission.Luxirare remains a Modern values message, because it wraps items from macaroons to snakeskin envelopes in visual luxury, with no mention of the real circumstances by which this fabulous bit of luxury came to market.

When one makes mouthwatering beauty out of snake skinning, with no statement of intentions or background mission statement, the image exists as what it is — divorced from the holistic process by which products come to market. Student Kim Preston explores this reality in her “Plastic Pacific” images, inspired by the garbage dump that is becoming the Pacific Ocean.

The same challenge applies to snake skinning. Read How the Python Makes Its Way to Becoming a Liz Carey Handbag, Thanks to Vogue Magazine on AOC Green.

Nomi’s Spring Demand

Please Do Not Catcall Me: From Rittenhouse to Tahrir Square AOC Women

By Nomi Leasure

“She’s seventeen!” Shouted my boisterous friend Brittany. The recipient of her aggression: A man, greying around the temples, spine nearly folded in half, and thick, cheap tobacco smoke trailing from his mouth.

The comment that ignited her aggression? Some variation of: “Hey baby!” “Damn, sweetie!” “Bring that ass over here!” “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Or, “My, my, my.” Comments that, particularly at seventeen, made me feel like a frosted bake good posed in the window display of a cheap, dusty diner.

When summer strikes the East Coast, young women be weary. The more skin you show, the more catcalls come your way. You are inviting, don’t you know, “his” one-sided stamp of approval. Your presence in public means you are fit to be judged. Summer on the East Coast requires a delicate balance. Men in the city take their posts leaning against buildings, shops, and bus stops, making the sidewalk our unwilling runway. Reveal, young lady, what you’ve been hiding all winter. Like cheap jewelry worn too long, “his” comments leave stains on our skin. They serve as a reminder: You do not belong to yourself.

A man will never touch an honorable woman. I negotiate the sentence in my head. A man will never touch an honorable woman.