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An open letter to the fashion moguls

Furnace

Ex-Bluelighter
Joined
Sep 22, 2000
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Remember in the beginning of "The Empire Strikes B
I want to set your cliches on fire.
I want to dismantle your catwalks,
And erect a statue to the average person.
I want to take your thousands of yards of rare fabric,
And I want to build tents for refugees.
I want to take all those animals you kill for fashion,
And put you in a cage with them.
I want to take your heroin chic,
And put it in rehab.
I want to take a chainsaw and
Cut down your unattainable heights of “beauty”.
I want to firebomb a huge gala in the Versace Mansion,
And watch as the fire builds, and see how you all scream
As your plastic drips from your body, and
You witness how quickly no one will come and save you.
I want to see the Fashion Districts of Europe
End up like their war-torn counterparts in WWII.
I want beautiful girls feeling beautiful,
Instead of wondering why not?
I want Kate Moss, Heidi Klum, and Gisele Bundchen in a giant blender
With someone with a glandular problem,
Ready to press down on the ‘puree’ button.
You can never look young and fresh forever, Donatella,
Your jeans and fragrances cannot hide your wrinkles, Calvin,
You can lose weight, Yves, by stapling your stomach,
But you’re all still ugly to me.
Why? Because you ignorantly destroy the self-images
Of people around the world with each line you create.
All in the name of profit.
You claim you're just designers trying to make us feel beautiful...But I 'll tell you this.
We are beautiful. Every one of us.
We don't need your help.
--
Look in the mirror today, and remember that you're a beautiful person, who is desirable, and is worthy of attention and praise from others. You are loved. You are passionate. You are perfect.
[ 02 December 2002: Message edited by: Furnace ]
 
Very good poem. For the most part I agree. Down with the superficial, materialistic goobs.
Perfection is a subjective value judgement, I think. Don't feel it/see it when I close my eyes or look in the mirror. I suppose perfection is when something fits an ideal pattern in your head. I wonder if anything could be perfect. I wonder if I have any wavering, fluid ideals floating in the recesses of my wasted skull, even. Could be my problem. Is perfection even possible in my universe?
Brief, post-dreamtime pessimistic rant. Sorry.
Anyway, cool poem.
 
it's so true, our entire culture is obsessed with perfection. the truth is that perfection is boring.
yay for beauty, in all it's forms
and this "open letter"... it made me smile in the middle of a sleepless night, with monday looming over my head
-lil
 
I want to set your cliches on fire.
I want to dismantle your catwalks,
And erect a statue to the average person.
I want to take your thousands of yards of rare fabric,
And I want to build tents for refugees.
I want to take all those animals you kill for fashion,
And put you in a cage with them.
I want to help!!!
Great writing, great subject matter. Everytime I read this poem I feel like I could have written it myself.
Lets bulldoze everything and start over.
Thanks for sharing this.
 
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