Asia, 25, Toronto - Marc Jacobs sweater, vintage shirt.
What do you do for a living? I’m an artist.
How long has your bedroom been this messy? The mess has a tendency to ebb and flow, depending on my mood. This is actually pretty tidy. I’m having a good week so far.
How far in advance do you plan to clean? Sometimes when I come home drunk I clean, but by the time I wake up, it’s a mess again. I’m not sure how it happens. I don’t plan to live in a clean place until I can afford a French maid, so no, I don’t procrastinate.
Do you bring lovers into your place, and what do they think of the mess? I bring boys home sometimes. If they complain I punish them.
Do you collect anything? Yes. Rare and precious jewels. I accept donations.
Were you messy as a kid? I’ve always been messy. My mom never cared, but it grossed my brother out because he’s a Virgo. My mom still doesn’t care that I live this way. My brother never comes over. I don’t mind though because he’s got cable at his place and pretty much always has food.
What would your parents say about your apartment now? I make sure to look clean and pretty when I leave the house and I’m usually tidy when I make art.
What is your favorite item that you own, and are you worried about losing it in the mess? My favorite item is a secret. I don’t want to say whether it’s hidden or not because I don’t want people snooping around when they come over.
I rarely fake orgasms because I don’t believe someone who is fucking you poorly deserves that kind of payoff. More importantly, faking an orgasm is the biggest dick move you can pull on another girl. A faked orgasm during shit sex only serves to perpetuate a guy’s misconception that he has “moves” when he doesn’t, which he’ll likely use on the next girl unlucky enough to fall into his bed. By faking an orgasm, you’re inflicting a disservice to sisters everywhere.
That said, there are occasions when it is essential to fake an orgasm like when a) love or intense “like” is involved (ew); or b) the guy is doing a seriously good job, and it’s your purely non-physical disposition that’s in the way of coital finality.
I should point out—because even grown men don’t yet seem to grasp this concept yet—the path to orgasm relies as much on mentality as it does on physical acts. So you can fuck all the right buttons, and hover just near or around climax for a bit, but unless your mind is completely present, it’s not going to happen. That doesn’t mean the sex isn’t lovely. It just means it’s been a long ass day and everything is distracting right now.
Here’s how to fake an orgasm when the penis in your vagina deserves it most, but you have that instinctive feeling that it’s just not going to happen tonight (or this morning, or this afternoon, or whenever you happen to be fucking)…
Baby, Arch Your Back
OK I got this one out of a Miguel song, but if you’re going to fake an orgasm you may as well make it as cinematic as possible. When you’re having a real orgasm you are so removed from the moment in your ecstasy that you might not concentrate on the inherent sexiness of your movements. Use this opportunity to inhabit those moves. Writhe around, push your hips up (or down if you’re on top), and be all lithe and serpentine, the way movies would have you believe people look during sex. BONUS: The dude fucking you will be so enraptured by your alluring posturing that he probably won’t even notice you’re faking. He’ll think he’s hit the jackpot, which he has, duh.
Lips are another part of your body that you can luxuriate in your deception. You’ve probably never seen your face mid-climax, but I’d bet good money it looks similar to the face you pull when you’re struggling to lift weights at the gym. Pout your lips, half close your eyes in that hooded, seductive bedroom way, and grab your own hair like a stripper mid-dance (where it would usually be matting into dreadlocks at the back by this point, flick it about like there’s a fan in front of you instead, but not too much, because you don’t want to look like you’re having a fit).
Three Teen Girls in Ottawa Have Pleaded Not Guilty to Pimping
According to a very detailed report by the Ottawa Citizen, and a thoroughly researched feature for Ottawa Magazine, three teen girls in Ottawa have been accused with running a prostitution ring where they allegedly blackmailed other young girls and forced them into prostitution. The motive behind all of this is unclear. The Ottawa Magazine piece cites a pimping expert who says the girls were possibly “influenced by a variety of mass media sources” like rap, and a particularly prostitution-filled episode of 90210. That seems bizarre in and of itself, but it’s a somewhat understandable hypothesis. The basic mechanics of pimping culture are easy to learn about.
The common perception is that pimping has always been relegated to a certain sliver of society. At least, that’s how I’ve understood it—because that’s the image we’re used to. So it is, of course, wildly shocking to hear about teen girls pimping out other teen girls; especially in Ottawa. But according to the United Nations, female pimps are the majority in certain countries, and prostitutes often speak of being courted by teen girls at a young age to enter the sex trade.
It also appears, from tweets gathered by the Ottawa Citizen, that these girls were unabashedly styled by gangsta pimping culture. Tweets like: “Ain’t no problem like a hoe problem” speak to the chilling level of distance the accused put up against their victims who they were absolutely terrible towards.
Earlier this week, a video called “Dirty Girls” went viral on YouTube—and not for the reasons you’d expect, given the title. The documentary video, originally shot in 1996 by filmmaker (and then high school senior) Michael Lucid, was released in 2000 and chronicles a group of outcasts, refered to by their tormentors as the “Dirty Girls,” who pride themselves on riot grrrl ethos, being different, and just not giving a fuck. The video focuses on the two leaders of the Dirty Girls, sisters Amber and Harper, who speak clearly and eloquently (as eloquently as an eighth grader can be expected to) about their convictions, while girls in sunglasses and jean jackets talk smack about them behind their backs. Not only is the documentary a perfect time capsule for people who went to high school in the 90s, it also perfectly captures two strong, independent young people speaking their minds and doing their own thing.
When I first watched “Dirty Girls,” I loved it. I sent it around to everyone in the VICE offices, and they loved it, too. We all decided that we really needed to track down the original Dirty Girls and see what they were up to today. It turned to be not that difficult a task. Harper lives in New York City and was gracious enough to visit our offices, where I chatted with her and her sister, Amber, who joined us via Skype.
VICE: When is the first time that you guys saw the video? Harper: Pretty much right after it was made when we were still in high school. Around 2000, he did a screening of it at a gay and lesbian film festival in LA. He had taken it down from an hour to 20 minutes, so that was the first time we saw this short, really well-put-together documentary. We haven’t seen it since then… so 12,13 years or so.
How did you find out that it was taking off online like it has? Harper: A close friend of mine had it forwarded from somebody from high school. Someone forwarded it me and said, “I’m blown away. Oh my god, I love you girls. You’re such strong little ones. So confident. I’m so impressed.” And at that point, there were 2000 views. That was the first day. And then it just went from there, and more and more people contacted us.
Amber: I only really just watched it again fully yesterday. I felt like I remembered it really well 13 years ago. I had a certain amount of emotions about it at that time and was sure that I would feel the same now. But when I watched it yesterday, it was totally different. It’s amazing to me, because I think it’s a reflection on us and where we’re from. I’m the same person who watched it 12 years ago, and I’m also so different in how I’ve developed and what I think now. It was a completely different perspective. It was the miracle of life. I love it. It’s fascinating.
How do you feel when you watch the video now? Are you proud? Embarrassed? Harper: I’m excited about it. I think it’s great. I remember in the moment feeling like we were given a voice that we didn’t have without that video being shown to the rest of the school. So I felt proud of the commentary then, and I do now too. I’m also just so blown away by the positive reactions from everybody. Just looking at the YouTube comments where everyone is so inspired, impressed by us. That just makes me feel so happy. I think back then we were dedicated to giving people voices that maybe didn’t have them. And I think both of us would agree that neither of us have any hard feelings toward any of those people, the older students making comments about it.
Oooooh la la, you guys, it’s Nike Sky High City Pack “Tokyo” Dunks release month! I put it on my iCal. How are you? How is your heart? Can I hold your teacup face in my hands, just for a second, or a second too long? Let’s make this all about feelings, OK? Or mostly, anyway. I’m Pre-Monster-Screaming or whatever that’s called.
I mean, aaaaaahhhh. This girl! I like when she hops around in her sports bra in that movie I haven’t seen yet. Except, as my fashion-professional bestie pointed out, she was wearing an actual wedding dress to the Oscars which is, at first pass, “Whoah/gross” but one beat later is maaaaaybe who-gives-a-shit-ish and cool? I am still waiting for a Juliette Lewis/Bjork/Amanda de Cadenet-and-Courtney Love-in-1995 figure to arrive on the red carpet (now actually a more TV-appropriate, “carbohydrate, sequined-jumpsuit, young-girls-in-white-cotton-panties, waking-up-in-a-pool-of-your-own-vomit, bloated-purple-dead-on-a-toilet phase”-purple-red-carpet) with a fashion-commentary-stakes-defying dress and some baditude, but in the meantime, I’m down with this girl. OK, so this isn’t about feelings. (Also, that’s from Wayne’s World, of course.)
Turns out I was right about necks, at least according to my recent shoppings. See you soon, transition toward wide and densely fabricated necklines! This isn’t about feelings either.
GIRL NEWS: FEMINIST FATIGUE
This is, though. To square away an important through-line of current feminist discussion, which is a strawberry-sweet way of saying “internet dry-heaving”: feminist fatigue, the kind of philosophical sleepiness that sweeps through me/you/everyone when there is too much to say no to (covered by Lindy West at Jezebel andJessica Valenti at the Nation and by other women in other places that I didn’t see/can’t care about because ZzzQuil) is something I feel, have felt, for years and years, in waves. Not nice warm ocean waves like in Florida but, like, The French Lieutenant’s Woman waves.
Obseshes: Let’s All Stop Complaining About High School
“Peaked in high school” is a sound concept: a lot of people do. (A lot, a lot, a lot.) The adult lives of many high school mob bosses are just sad as all fuck, not sad like “I’m judging you for your social affiliations and entertainment choices” sad, because that’s mean, but sad like “You seem sad.” I mean, by now “high school” is more of a myth-factory (in fact, the most successful and productive myth-factory ever) than a singular institution, so maybe this is beside the point, but I’ve been hearing this party line for WEEKS which I blame on various articles about how school is jail for children and how you can never escape your high school self and how people who “peaked in high school” are not allowed to be cool as adults and let’s just HOLD THE PHONE A MINUTE. I loved high school. I was good at everything about it except for acting normal (and I plugged all my anxieties into stupid tattoo ideas and the kind of happenstansical afternoon drug use, the sticky-gross time-wastedness of which would give me three consecutive coronaries now, so……….) but STILL I understood how it worked and had a lot of friends and was “successful” at it and consider it to be an important foundation for learning how to be around people and have relationships and manage emotions and egos. Being too/very good at the “life” of high school indicates post-college loserishness, I guess, but it doesn’t necessitate post-college loserishnes—correlation is not causation—and this is an objective fact that seems to have been lost on whatever version of hive-mind is currently populating my internet, one that wants so badly to, what, find a direct and appealing narrative line from one era of their life to another? Let’s get a new thing to be weirdly identity-proud of (OR NOT AT ALL?) because “nerd” and “outcast” are bbbbnnnnnnooorrrzzzzzzz.