When I first started this blog it was with the intention of praising the artistic beauty of fashion and bringing to light the ugly side of its commercial counterpart.
complicated and frustrating at times,
has been nothing but worth it to me in the end.
I truly believe that through any form of art, including fashion,
boundaries can be broken, thoughts can be provoked and lessons can be learned.
This brings me to the recent number of suicides in the Untied states of America.
This month, a slew of young teens and children have been killing themselves due to their sexual orientation.
This is not new news to me.
And it shouldn't have been to anyone.
Gay teen suicides have been happening for god knows how long, and it's about time this was brought to light.
Along with the recent suicides,
the matter of "don't ask, don't tell" has been frolicking its way through my news feed.
Now, you might ask;
"what on earth does any of this have to do with fashion?"
a few days ago I heard along the rumor mill that this Friday,
people were planning on wearing purple in remembrance of the young children who had killed themselves.
I am all about it.
A sign of being proactive through fabric.
A sign of remembrance through the cotton wool.
But this post isn't about the fabric, it's not about the thread.
This post is about the passion behind the fabric.
There's the famous saying in fashion;
"make a statement".
This post is about that statement.
From the moment I cut off my hair at 15 and proclaimed myself "punk rock",
from the moment I started dressing as a greaser,
or from the moment I wanted nothing more than converse in my closet,
I was making a statement.
Not a statement for others to myself,
but instead a statement for myself to others.
When I say "commercial" world,
I am not just talking fashion.
I'm talking all aspects of art in general.
It's obvious, if you know me personally, or have been reading my blog.
I hate it.
I hate that world.
I grew up in Los Angeles.
Though I originate from the valley,
I travelled through all sides of my streets.
I was familiar with the East side, West side, Valley, Downtown....
I love Los Angeles.
But part of being an Angeleno is that I was, since birth, embellished in the commercial world.
Streets are filled with billboards for movies, colognes, clothing lines, our TVs are filled with previews, weight loss commercials, news channels for the celebrity obsessed.
I've seen paparazzi,
I've seen celebrities a Starbucks,
I've even attended school with some Celebutants.
This was my world.
I knew nothing else.
I had no choice but to be lucky enough,
and yet unlucky enough.
With this all being said,
I would like to now let you know
I am tired.
Not angry, not frustrated, just tired.
Like a little old lady, hunched over after a hard days work.
I'm tired of allowing this faux world to define me.
I'm tired of standing around watching commercials, reading magazines, and viewing movies that want nothing more than to define me by my gender, sex, nationally and whatever else it can get its gritty hands on.
I'm tired of it all.
There is such beauty in the art world!
But now everything is so contrived,
I'm beginning to fear that we ourselves, as Americans, are starting to belive that they can define us.
That we are those things they say we are.
I am not OK anymore with these boxes.
With these labels.
To my gay brothers and sisters,
or to anyone who has felt "different",
(and let's be honest, who hasn't?)
I will not be defined by my sex, my ethnicity, my gender or any other mere characteristic anymore.
I will not feed into the evil of the commercial world by allowing people to label me or my friends.
I am so much more than what they want me to be.
So are you.
Don't ask, don't tell is not OK.
The right for only straight couples to marry, is not OK.
The fact that when I turn on my television a sex obsessed, gay man is usually covered in glitter and seen shopping with a lisp is not OK.
The fact that it is so rare to see a biracial couple in a commercial is not OK.
The fact that there is such a phrase as the "token white guy" or "token black guy" is not OK.
I will not be wearing purple just for the souls of those young children,
I will be wearing purple because I am not OK anymore with what I am being fed.
I am wearing purple because I will not be put in a box.
I am wearing purple becasue through this fabric I want to express to you that I am not ok with the ignorance the exists in the city, and country I love.
I am wearing purple for change.
I am wearing purple to prove that I am more than what they want me to be.
And so are you.
So this Friday,
all I ask,
is that you wear purple with me.
Not for my reasons,
but for your own.