Unrequited Love’s a Bore: My Ode to Vogue

Unrequited Love’s a Bore: My Ode to Vogue

I adore Vogue Magazine.  I mean, I REALLY LOVE Vogue.  My love for Vogue is so profound, it borders on obsession.

My obsession started in the 80’s with my mothers’ annual subscription to the fashion mag.  The glossy pages enticed my precocious mind with stunning long legged models draped in decadent fabrics, beautiful make up, luxurious jewelry and of course shoes that you would fight a pack of wild animals to wear just once.

At seven years old, the writing, obviously, was way over my head.  Yet, as I matured, I grew to love the dry witted, snobbish articles as well.  I devoured the articles with the same passion I consumed the brilliant photography, couture clothing and expensive baubles.

Fast forward 10 years, on my seventeenth birthday, I told my sister (whom was my very first style icon); I needed a makeover and desperately wanted her advice.  She casually recommended I take a trip to World Wide News and pick up an Italian Vogue.   Like an obedient sister (which I hardly was) I scurried to the news stand and found Vogue Italia. When I picked up the glossy treasure, angels started to sing, light shone down upon me from the heavens, and suddenly Vogue Italia and I were the only two things in the room.  Okay, maybe it was not that dramatic, but in my mind it was only a step below reaching total fashion nirvana.

My introduction to Vogue Italia changed my adoration into a full blown addiction, which there is no 12 step program for.  Since then I have expanded my collection to British Vogue, Vogue Paris, Vogue India, Vogue Japan, and Vogue Australia.

Recently, I was pouring over the 2011 September issue of American Vogue and it struck me…even though I have been a dedicated, loyal reader of Vogue…I realized I am not Vogue’s targeted demographic, as a woman of color!

Sure, Vogue has Black, Latina and Asian models in its pages, and in March 1966 British gave the cover, for the first time, to a Black model, Donyale Luna. Vogue also highlights women of color and even has a few who regularly contribute to their magazine like Shala Monroque and Chioma Nnadi.  Now, I absolutely adore Chioma Nnadi and I love her style.  Chioma is stylish and beautiful and is a good representative for women of color.

Shala Monroque, however…well…I know Shala is Miuccia Prada’s new muse and I appreciate her eclectic style…Furthermore, I even enjoy her blog…but, Shala doesn’t necessarily represent most Black women I know.  She is not, necessarily, “the Black Woman’s, Black Woman”.( I know there are numerous Dominican hair salons in NYC who could give Shala a nice blow out, and for days she wants to be natural, Kinky Curly and even Jane Carters products could really give her hair a nice definition and shine.  Black women have had an obsession with our hair since time immemorial, healthy or not, and like their hair to look nice.  Shala looks like she doesn’t dare step foot in a Black hair salon, and it’s obvious.) Shala is fabulous in her own right, however, she does not represent most women of color.  (Just my opinion)

To further prove my feeling of not being a part of Vogues demographic, Vogue Italia, in their latest edition, is running a spread with models dressed ghetto fabulously to the tenth degree.  The editorial is called Haute Mess. Vogue Italia has also proclaimed in the past, ‘slave earrings‘ as an "it" trend to shop (they described the over sized hoops as ‘decorative traditions of the women of color who were brought to the southern Unites States during the late 18th century).  Also, Conde Nast has recently rejected the idea of Vogue Africa.  Time and time again, Vogue has crossed certain boundaries of political correctness to ensure, their Black and Brown fans, like myself, know they are not important and definitely not whom they are speaking to.

Some people will argue that there is a Vogue India, which obviously represents Indian women of color.  As much as I like Vogue India, a quick glance through the numerous skin bleaching advertisements, reinforces that Vogue India is more about brightening, lightening and doing anything in general to not be of color.  “Beautifying”, I believe they call it.  It is rare you’d find an Indian model in Vogue India darker than a chai latte.

What brought on this heartbreaking realization were a few things (there have been numerous signs previously; I guess I chose to ignore them).  With the fall 2011 and spring 2012 trends of bright bold colors everywhere, they call it color blocking, in last Septembers issue, a writer commented how most of “us” women (who are fashionable, of course! Darling, we are speaking of Vogue) shy away from color.  Well, that is not necessarily true for African Americans, Africans, Indians, Latinas, Jamaicans, or Haitians…is it?  Go to any African American church on Sunday and you are bound to see every color of the spectrum.  African women (whether they be east, west or south) are known for their bright colorful patterned fabrics with at minimum 3 to 4 colors in the cloth (I guess they originated “color blocking”).  Indian women with their beautiful silk saris in golds, pinks, garnets, lilacs, and sapphire blues displayed gorgeously against their fair to dark brown skins.  All across the globe women of color wear color! (And they wear it like they mean it!)

So where’s the disconnect? 

So, who exactly is Vogue speaking to?  More importantly, whom are they NOT speaking to?  They are certainly not speaking to me, or women like me.  Sadly, I still love Vogue.  It is like being in an abusive relationship.  One minute they are emulating my ancestors’ way of dress, proclaiming it the new hot thing, backed by pictures of Rihanna and Beyoncé wearing African prints; the next they are calling hoop earrings (which I love so much, mind you) slave earrings and doing editorials with white models in black face or dressed in extreme ghetto fashions while donning a fake pregnant belly with gold teeth. *Sigh*

In the same September issue of Vogue, Tom Ford, also proved how out of touch Vogue is with the majority of the world.  Tom Ford, whose fashions, cosmetics and perfumes I have enjoyed, said, “They (speaking of the young women who work for him) grew up in the hip hop moment of nothing, so they’ve reacted against that and want to be glamorous.  They want to have a lacquered lip.”

As a self described eighties baby, hip hop head, I have no idea which hip hop moment he is referring to.  Hip hop, especially in the 90’s, was about consumerism, opulence and name brands.  ESPECIALLY NAME BRANDS!

“I put hoes in NY

Onto DKNY

Miami, DC prefer Versace

All Philly hoes wore Moschino

Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi”-Notorious BIG "Hypnotize”

Hip hop introduced high end clothing designers to a large population of consumers most fashion houses dismissed all together.  Tommy Hilfiger, in particular, made millions when urban consumers started to wear his clothing.  Hip hop artists even provided free advertising in their lyrics!  You couldn’t listen to a hip hop song in the 90’s, without hearing about Versace, Gucci, Prada, Dolce & Gabbana, and Chanel!

And lacquered lips?  Which hip hop moment is Tom Ford referring to?  Who could forget the cover of Foxy Browns “Ill Nana” with a dark lacquered lip?  Or even Missy Elliot in her “The Rain” video with a black lacquered lip?  Or even Mary J Blige (the Queen of Hip Hop Soul) in the “Not Gon’ Cry” video, with (drum roll) a lacquered lip!

Obviously, despite the pain and anguish, I’ve been in love with something that doesn’t love me back and seemingly flaunts that fact.  The confusing aspect is that the Black, Brown and Yellow population is growing exponentially, yet are still grossly ignored by Conde Nast.  I have no answers.  I still love Vogue.  However, I now realize it is an unrequited love, and unrequited love’s a bore.