The Instagram account @hardcore_decor celebrates the one thing that really matters in vintage porn – the decor. Follow the account to fall down a black hole of incredibly garish images of retro baby-makin’. Says the anonymous owner of the account; “The fun part is trying to crop enough to keep it titillating” – well isn’t that the truth!
Read more here: A chat with the anonymous archivist behind vintage smut celebration Hardcore Decor
Does anyone actually like Valentines Day?
I’m yet to hear of one of my attached friends say that they are looking forward to spending money on over-priced restaurant food and cards with empty sentiments. Sure, being with the one you love on the 14th of Feb must be nice, but does anyone actually care?
5 years of spending V-Day alone, has been 5 years of total bliss when it comes to this fake-romance side of life, and here’s why:
1. I mean, really, you are your own Valentines by default.
2.You don’t have to share booze. A six-pack of beer means just that, a six-pack.
3. Same goes for food. You don’t have to put up with anyone touching your mac n’ cheese. Result!
4. If you want to bust a nut, you can do so in minutes, using only your hand. Plus you don’t have to go through the long drawn out process of dealing with someone else’s orgasm.
5. All that money you should be spending on a gift for your loved one? Hell, you can spend it on yourself!
(Culietta headpiece £50)
6. You don’t have to tell someone you love them when you don’t.
7. You don’t have to face the outside world if you don’t want to. In fact, you don’t even need to get dressed.
8. You can watch any film you like, and without someone making stupid comments throughout.
9. Or you can dance around your room while listening to your favourite tracks on blast (Hello Destiny’s Child, I’ve missed you!).
10. Instead of celebrating your love of someone else, you can celebrate the love you have for yourself, because let’s face it, that’s what you should be celebrating anyway.
❤ Happy V-Day ladies! ❤
Before we get in to this, let’s get one thing straight… This is not a feature about online dating, if you want to know about finding “The One “online then sign yourself up to match.com, or e-harmony (or Tinder if you just want a fuck). No, this is about dating online; I’m talking about going through your friend’s profile and picking out future husbands, I’m talking about instant messaging some boy you met three years ago and building up a relationship, I’m talking about living out your life on-line so your ex-man feels shitty that he dumped you and stomped on your heart (the utter bastard).
It’s a totally different world to the one our ‘rents grew up in. Gone are the days of meeting your prospective partner at a dance, and him walking you home with only the possibility of a hand-hold. Gone are the long walks, love letters and months of whispering sweet nothings to each other until you finally give in to a kiss. Now, it seems that if we want to meet a guy without picking up a weirdo at a bar, we’ve got to get ourselves online and promote, promote, promote! Think of it like job-hunting; searching for hours, uploading flattering images on Facebook and making sure your tweets are witty, flirty, but not desperate.
A couple Saturday nights ago I was sat in my pyjama’s with a BFF of mine, Amy. We were doing what most 20-something girls do when there’s not much on telly; searching though each other’s friends on Facebook and stating who we’d do, wouldn’t do, and who we’d have to get paid to do…
One of Amy’s friends (let’s call him Brummie Boy) caught my eye straight away and I declared “Yes, yes, OH HELL YES!” when we stumbled on a photo of him, which of course led Amy to tell me his whole sexual history (he’s single but still fucking his ex in case you’re interested). This got me thinking, how many times have I been sat with friends doing this, and they’ve asked about cute boys in my friend list? Too many, that’s how many… If you’re not loved up, or playing the field then perhaps the best way of meeting a prospective is to trawl through your friend’s friends and suggest a cupid-like hook-up.
In recent months I’ve not been using Facebook much in general, one because it seems that everyone on there is simply promoting a load of shit I don’t care about, and two because I’m a self-confessed Instgram junkie. But something happened a couple of weeks ago that has made me now check Facebook every third second of my day…
It was a cold, lonely Tuesday night and I was sat at home watching my cat chew on her tail. Suddenly, I received a notification on my phone saying I had a friend request from some
boy I didn’t know. Convinced it was a random spam account I left it, until boredom and curiosity got the better of me… As soon as I clicked on his profile I realised not only did I know him, but I’ve also done him. Over summer I was in New York and got inebriated with a friend of mine in a local Brooklyn bar. That night ended back in Manhattan, in an apartment, in a bed with a boy. I left early without remembering his name (I was sure it was Adam), and headed back in to Brooklyn to crack on with my day. I must admit that I liked this boy a lot; he was hot, and funny and nice, but seen as I was leaving a few days later I thought there was not much point in going for breakfast with the kid. Now, here I was almost 5 months later, on the other side of the world and the one-night-stand had found me online and wanted to be my friend (surely a marriage proposal is next right?!). What has ensued has been daily messages, ranging from sex talk to genuine kindness and eager to get to know one another. Suddenly I’ve become one of those girls that checks Facebook religiously and never, ever closes the tab on her browser just incase on-night-stand boy has sent me something.
There is something to be said for the wonderful accessibility that the Internet brings us. It used to be that a one-night-stand was just that – one night. Now, if you do try to be that mysterious woman who leaves a man begging for more, he can just go online and direct message you (while simultaneously whacking one out to your photos). But is that a good thing? What about if you don’t want to ever hear from that freak who made you do weird things to him?
Last year I started dating (and by dating I mean having regular sex) with a guy I met in a bar. The sex was great, he wasn’t. Quickly I had an odd-ball obsessive on my hands who would not leave me alone. All was fine and well for the first month, until I realized that even if I wanted to get him out of my life, he would make damn sure that he’d be staying in it… Although I deleted and blocked him on Facebook, there were regular ‘likes’ on my Instagram photos, and replies to any tweet I dare send. He could see everything I was doing on a day-to-day basis and began acting like he was part of my life. Scary.
The amount of personal stuff I disclose on social media means that anyone can learn everything about me, and visa-versa. If I want to see what (or who) my ex-man is doing, all I need to do is type his name in Google and get on to his twitter. I have made a conscious effort to never look at ex’s profiles, after a four year relationship ended horrifically and the boy I loved began posting photos of him and his (many) girls on Facebook. Nights were spent trawling through his feed learning that some of the girls overlapped in to our relationship. Years of love went down like a sack of shit as I learnt more and more of his infidelities. Friends of mine thought this was a good thing (“See, it shows you that he’s an arsehole!”) and perhaps it was, however I can’t help that feel ignorance is bliss. It used to
be that you would break up and not contact each other than perhaps a phone call now and again. You could live a peaceful existence pretending that your ex was spending his time crying alone, regretting ever leaving you. Now, you scroll through photos on Instagram to try to get your mind of the break-up, only to be confronted with images of your boy at strip clubs, on dates and generally looking like he’s never even known you.
When thinking about writing this piece, it seemed obvious that the best place to start was on Facebook its self. I posted a status asking people to get in touch with any experiences they’ve had with such matters. I was inundated with girls (and boys) messaging me about their dating experiences on the World Wide Web. The main thing that seems to be occurring is people being dumped on-line (excuse me?!) and finding out about affairs through twitter or tumblr. Friends, friends of friends and even strangers have told me stories of how their ex-partners have sent them online messages explaining that it’s not working out. One girl even mentioned that her man tweeted at her saying “I’m sorry. It’s over. #breakup”. Come on now! What kind of world is it that people think that’s acceptable??
Oh, and let’s not forget the poor souls that think everything is fine and dandy in their lives until they receive an e-mail, or direct message from someone who’s been shagging their man. Unfortunately, I’ve been a shoulder to cry on for far too many friends who have found out about affairs when the mistress has decided to take matters online.
There is no denying that with the way social media is going, it is so much easier to find out about extracurricular activity, and in turn, for said adulterer to not face up to the consequences and having a face-to face chat. But there seem to be plus sides too, many of my friends have got to know their partners (and hence fall for them more) by stalking them. If you have an interest, you can join Facebook groups or search hash tags and find a ton of men who share some common ground. Plus, if you do like guy you can always check him out online and if he’s single then you’ve got the green light! So maybe social media is the new speed-dating for people that are too busy to actually go out and meet anyone? Maybe the future consists of “Roses are Red…” tweets and marriage proposals though instant messaging? And maybe that’s ok? I, for one am happy for any romantic gesture, be it on or off-line. So, when my future baby daddy asks for my hand in marriage via Twitter, I’ll be sure to re-tweet it for you all to see…
I noticed this film a while ago and thought it looked like a winner. Mainly because the title struck me, Young Adult? That’s pretty much my frame of mind completely. It’s out on the 9th of Febuary, and is about Mavis Gary (played by Charlize Theron), a writer of teen literature who returns to her small hometown to relive her glory days and attempt to reclaim her happily married high school sweetheart (Patrick Wilson). But when she gets home it proves more difficult than she thought. However, Mavis meets former classmate Matt (Patton Oswalt) who was beaten almost to death at high school by a group of boys who thought he was gay. The two become close friends, with Matt being her voice of reason in her quest for getting back with her ex. 
As this film is by the makers of Juno, I’ve no doubt it will be a little off-key, and hopefully a bit different from the normal chick-flick. Plus with Charlize Theron as the protagonist, I’m hoping she’ll be a a bit more edgy than the usual female character in Hollywood films. 
I’m interested to see how Mavis tries to win back her high school sweetheart who is happily married, with a baby on the way. We’ve all wanted to go on a winning-back-the-ex-rampage, but (hopefully) have not done anything about it, so god knows how this will end!
Girl crushes; aren’t they wonderful!! I’ve had many a girl crush in my 23 years…
❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
Everyone can use a role model—especially one who’s smart, stylish, elegant, and fun. Thessaly la Force explains the same-sex love that dare speak its name.
I developed my first girl crush—on the illustrator and writer Leanne Shapton—three years ago, when I was working as a Web producer at The New Yorker. A colleague of mine had Leanne’s second book on her desk, and one day I picked it up and slowly started turning the pages, transfixed. The book—Important Artifacts and Personal Property From the Collection of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris, Including Books, Street Fashion, and Jewelry—is a mock auction catalog that tells the story of a deteriorating relationship through the deacquisitioning of the couple’s possessions. It’s capricious, intelligent, and delicately done.
According to Google and my close interrogation of those who knew her, Leanne appeared to have a most enviable life: She lived in a stunning West Village apartment, all antique rugs and Farrow & Ball paint; wore a Dries Van Noten skirt as effortlessly as she did a painter’s smock; and was happily engaged to the handsome and successful publishing executive James Truman. I adored her from afar, and I suppose a part of me wanted to be her.
A generous friend who knew Leanne found my obsession amusing and arranged for the three of us to have a drink. On the appointed day, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror a cliché of a nervous wreck: rehearsing what to say, fretting over what to wear. Should I go understated and elegant in a black Maria Cornejo dress and Margiela booties? Or maybe something a bit more romantic, like my floral-print Mayle dress with Chanel flats? Should I lead with a handshake? A cheek kiss? A hug? And if she ordered a martini, should I get one, too—or would it be wiser to stick with a glass of Sancerre? More important, why was I treating this like a date?
The “girl crush” may sound silly, but sometimes it takes something unserious to get us talking about a serious subject: the ambitions of young creative women and the need for worthy role models. Among my own nominees for inaugural members of the Girl Crush Hall of Fame are Zadie Smith, with her daring, brilliance, and wild success; Joan Didion, with her cool, spare prose; Patti Smith, with her soul and wisdom; Sofia Coppola, with her chic grace and unmistakable taste; and Tina Fey, with her goofy smile and razor wit. Each of them has accomplished something the rest of us dream of doing. And because they’ve done it, we feel we can too.
There’s a distinctly nineties flavor to the term (think Riot Grrrls), but the idea of the girl crush is much older than that. F. Scott Fitzgerald had something to say on the matter in an essay he penned in 1930: “ ‘Crushes’ were once a boarding-school phenomenon—now any sort of courageous individualism makes a woman the center of a cult…What effect has this woman worship on the young girl herself?”
When my good friend Jenna Wortham—a New York Times reporter—and I decided to start a zine called Girl Crush last spring, we thought of it as a chance to be frivolous, irreverent, and earnest all at once. We created a website, Girlcrushzine.tumblr.com, and began soliciting personal essays. We e-mailed novelist Jennifer Egan, This American Life contributor Starlee Kine, New Yorker writer Amanda Fortini, former Missbehave editor Mary H.K. Choi, and other women we admire.
As varied as the submissions we received were, the answer to Fitzgerald’s question was clear: Woman worship, girl crushing—whatever you want to call it—is a positive trend. Fortini’s took the form of a singular devotion to the journalist Janet Malcolm, whose work she faithfully read and followed when Fortini was an assistant at The New York Review of Books. To Choi, a girl crush is a creatively inspiring friendship born of mutual respect and admiration—like the one she established with the sassy Times columnist Cintra Wilson. For Egan, it represents that moment in girlhood before boys have entered the picture.
After two months, we had dozens and dozens of submissions—more than either of us had anticipated. Had we struck a chord? I can’t help but believe our current generation’s embrace of girl crushing signifies something larger: evidence that a professional world once dominated by men has evened out—maybe not totally, but to a reassuring degree. When Didion first set out to become a writer, she copied the sentences of Ernest Hemingway; today, my friends and I copy hers.
That night, when I arrived at the bar to meet Leanne, I instantly forgot everything I had prepared to say. She asked me about my life. I asked about hers. We slipped into comfortable conversation almost immediately. We talked about books, travel, our hopes and dreams for the year. At the end of the night I walked her home. “Dear Leanne,” I wrote to her the next day, “So fun to meet you last night. I must bashfully admit that my girl crush is undiminished. Hope I played it cool. :)” Over the next year, we gradually moved from being acquaintances to friends. And that’s the thing—a girl crush doesn’t have to be purely aspirational. Still, I’ll never forget what Leanne wrote in response: “Your crush is reciprocated!”
– By Thessaly la Force
You know graffiti is mainstream when the best champagne manufacturers use it for their new Valentine’s Day gift box. Moët & Chandon’s Message On A Bottle gift set is beautiful, with a little edge, kindly provided by the gold graff marker that comes with it. Although I’m not a fan of “graffiti-make-overs” (as I call it) to sell products, I must say this is very cute. And obviously I wouldn’t be mad if someone got it for me… ahem…
