token girl: like a girl, but better

Sunday, 16 November 2003

get your Purse:

Admittedly I was thrilled to see an un-airbrushed, bruised&beautiful newly renamed Brody Dalle on the front of Kerrang’s October 4 issue. It’s not every week that EMAP’s flimsy metal mag has an excuse to photograph a worthy female RAWK st*r for the cover. It’s just a shame that they then have to cheapen the credibility of the main feature, promoting the Distillers’ new album, by noticing that *WOW* there are other women in the industry not making pop music 21 other ladies This predicable selection are patronised in a 5-page spread (how generous), which embarrassedly blows away the cobwebs from the K! photo library’s token girl files (EYE CANdy). Shirley Manson and the Donnas are profiled next to Drew Barrymore and Dita von Teese in an assortment comprising indie-porn pin-ups and writers alongside musicians. The feature simply highlights the cultural anachronism which is women’s too-often-compromised place in the macho metal scene. As long as publications such as K! continue to lazily compile annual ‘women in rock’ issues, women will remain marginalized and discouraged.
Brody herself has prematurely been branded an Icon by a soundbite hungry press.
THE PRESS RELEASE MADE ME DO IT What makes an Icon? one Warner album release, one magazine cover, one marriage, one divorce, one tour…? Is the Icon a made or a found thing? The word has become another pointless cliché for writers to label their subjects with, its meaning diminished through over- and irrelevant use. In Brody’s case, to elevate her into Iconography is to deny her unique voice by valuing her uncompromising image over everything else. Before The Distillers’ single gets any radio airplay objectify her body, film her life story as video for MTV2 (lasting 3 punk rock minutes), use her CD as a coaster and the case as an ashtray.

Friday, 10 October 2003

wow, have u heard of…

being SpikE Jonze: a top 4
Before the indie skate-vid hero Spike Jonze went all Hollywood and award-winning and genre-defying Filmmaker the only awards he was getting were for 3½-minute music clips. STORYTELLING He paid the rent with these MTV-revolutionising pop videos, eschewing the standard dance routine/lip sync format for the delights of the short film. Scratch the surface and you see a careful dissection of middle American popular culture which references everything from the geographical centre of small town life by filming bjork stomping down Main St USA to Hollywood by choreographing a Christian dance troupe outside a movie theater.
OH YEAH In the meantime he was shooting knee-busting throat-cutting (SIC) skater shorts, live action footage and proto-jackass CKY stunts. Skilful.
subjective list/my favourites
1. Daft Punk ‘Da Funk’ (1997/8) in which the track is relegated to a mere hum on a teen-puppy’s beat box. In this miniature snatch of NY street life we learn all we’ll ever need to know about the existential predicament of a teenage New York canine with a love of French disco-pop. As the dog hobbles around the downtown streets on a crutch we see him discriminated against and ostracised, not because of his ostensible bestiality but because of his plastered, crippled foot. Not his most influential work, but the most challenging.
This came later: Roger Sanchez ‘Another Chance’
2. Chemical Brothers ‘Electrobank’ (1997) At the height of big beat Jonze transferred the ‘Dig your own Hole’ filler to soundtrack a tense gymnastics tournament showdown starring Future Wife Sofia Coppola. Will she or won’t she land safely? The Chems make a cameo, briefly glimpsed inside the high school trophy cabinet in a portrait of 2 award-winning basketball jocks. Totally rad and, tragically, scarcely broadcast.
3. Puff Daddy & Family ‘All About the Benjamins’ (Rock Remix feat. Dave Grohl) (1997) an early appearance by a teenage Lil’Kim makes this one worth tracking down. In one fell swoop she transforms from pretty prom queen in pink taffeta to smut-lipped rapper in black leather. What’s a high school prom got to do with Puff Daddy’s dollar-praising business (rap) core? Who cares.
4. Weezer ‘Buddy Holly’ (1995) these weirdo emo geeks constantly belie their miserable image with witty and memorable promos. ‘Happy Days’ have never been so sad.

Others: the Pharcyde ‘Drop’, Sonic Youth ‘100%’, Breeders ‘Cannonball’, Bjork ‘It’s Oh So Quiet’. What have I forgotten? Remind me.

Saturday, 4 October 2003


believe in me, i believe in you

(not the blog) Small Town Flirt #1 (autumn) – the nothing to say issue (print)

(about) Small Town Flirt is apathetic, un-ambitious, anxious, pretentious,
frightened of taking itself too seriously but would never say so … [those who
reveal that they don’t take themselves too seriously shouldn’t have too. STF
will never repeat that it doesn’t want to be taken seriously for fear of people
thinking that it’s too worried about what people think…]

In this way it is also a reaction against all those Bad Things and challenges
what our generation has come to represent. I once wrote about THE FIRST women OF
THE 21st CENTURY. I'm going to again. In the long term (you know how long
'nothing to say' took to materialise? well, longer than that) I am aiming to put
together a commentary on how young women are presented in (blahblah) The Media.
It often seems to me that the most overrepresented and overexposed section of
the population have little to do with how they are presented by the books the
films the magazines the newspapers that exploit their youth and beauty. Really.

STF my little bloid-zine...
bloid-zine: part [ta]bloid in its small word-count and reactinary opinions.
part-zine: written in the same DIY staple'n'paste spirit & with the faux-naïveté
of the 'zines of old. let's RIOT.

‘i’d like to thank my stylist’: news report on a new trade union for
coming of age in the public eye: how to become a woman
you're not my mommy
that charming man: pete retires from indie scene (EXCLUSIVE)
michelle on the lost art of letterwriting
small town shirt: nick on cave-painting and charles saatchi
pitch for a column: my letter to various magazine editors asking them to give me
a column
saralee - my style icon: me and sl ‘in conversation’ about clothes.
top 5… videos… songs…actions... indulgent

(how) by the end of this week STF will really really exist. if you want a copy
email me back. most of you know that you'll inevitably have one shoved into your
hand while you're trying to hold a gin&t refrescante and a fag, so not to worry.
everyone else you know what to do.

Anna-Marie Editrix

Thursday, 11 September 2003


ever watched sex & the city while drunk? samantha's new bitch is hot. burger go home. carrie: we love you. miranda: you are my laura on TV. charlotte & harry? made me cry.
that's SATC while drunk then.

Monday, 1 September 2003

there's more to wearing clothes than the High Street.

MEANWHILE LAST THURSDAY 'jesus christ natalie, there's no point to me anymore. give me an excuse to get out of here.'
just before the line went dead she'd been juggling her outsized hangbag on her arm, a clutching a dinky phone in one hand, with superfluous hangers hooked on the other, her chipped pink fingertips clasped the metal like a fleshy clothesrail.
is not what they wanted her to be grumbling as she passed through the store. this is like some girl i'm jealous of's huge walk-in wardrobe.
scanning the shop floor for natalie absent-mindedly, no signal on crummy mobile, she realises that if she needed some professional advice or directions to this in black please or whatever then she'd have to look damn hard for a trained employee. in seasons passed and gone those elusive frock peddlers even been actively encouraged to customise their shop-issue tops however they please. like the fashion students they want to be.
the whole experience, then, shuffling between the racks and shelves and mannequins, next to similarly-laden similar-looking W1 working girls, smacks of mind-numbing conformity. (gawd). when you descend the escalator the latest arrivals are waiting to greet you *cotton fresh*
this evening it takes all of the duration of the descent (20-30 seconds) to the ground floor for her to realise that she must have the red polka dot pink strappless cotton prom-ish dress hanging prone on display. and at thirty quid it's so off the peg and on her used-to-it body.
'as long as i'm in here, i don't exist. i don't exist.'
she found natalie in a queue waiting to pay for a pair of magenta mesh knickers.
'let's go.'

i don't need you:

Saturday, 23 August 2003

small town flirt

tell me about your life, small town flirt.