Ever have one of those days where you wake up and think, “Sure, I’d like to embody female sexuality with my ensemble today, but that big business meeting I have at noon might not be the most appropriate setting for my full-body vulva costume. How can I go subtle?” Well, now the discerning gynocentric fashionista has an option for the office—the Clitoring, presumably by artist Penelopi Jones (though one could never know because “she” spells it “PenelopiJones,” and does not refer to herself in the first person, so “PenelopiJones” could very well be the name of an LLC belonging to some 75-year-old male jeweler obsessed with female anatomy).

From “her” website:

This provocative little anatomical form, mysterious yet oddly familiar, is a subtly stylized representation of a thing we all know, yet may know surprisingly little about. Until very recently both science and culture have misunderstood and often ignored all but the very tip of it. Our ring, like the anatomical renderings in the header, illustrate the newly rediscovered internal structure of the clitoris. The sensitive little button at the top of a woman’s vagina is apparently just the tip of the iceberg. What lies beneath the surface is vastly more complex and fascinating. It contains eight thousand nerve endings at the tip that permeate through this greater internal structure, then connect to an even greater network of fifteen thousand more that map the entire pelvic region, suggesting that even vaginal orgasms are technically “clitoral.” Over a lifetime the clitoris will increase in sensitivity and in size by seven times. The “wings” that hug the vaginal opening are called the bulbs of the vestibule and are composed of erectile tissue that become swollen during arousal.  The “arms” are the two crura that form a wishbone-like shape. We like to think of them as a sort of tuning fork, a device for sending and receiving vibrational energy, possibly for exploring the resonant structure of the universe.

If you’re sensing a little New Age woo in that description, just know that it’s nothing compared to affiliated project, The PenelopiJones Experiment, which purports to be, “a record of our pursuit of a greater understanding of the resonant structure of the universe through orgasm.”

Look, it’s kind of pretty, and it comes in both a ring and a pendant for a necklace (the sterling silver for $122 to 14 karat gold for $535), but I make it a point to steer clear of any jewelry that might accidentally misidentify me as the member of a cult. So on the off-chance The PenelopiJones Experiment is some sort of clitoral Scientology, I’ll be sticking with the classic vulva-suit.
 
Via Bustle

 
Oddly beautiful, but still wince-making, take a gander at these x-rays showcasing the nasty health consequences corsets caused for women’s bodies. These images are from Doctor O’Followell’s Le Corset (The Corset) written in 1908.

There’s some debate as to whether or not these are actual x-rays of corsets or if they’re just x-rays of women’s torsos with the corset painted on afterwards. Others firmly believe that these are indeed very real x-rays.

 

 

 
More after the jump…
 

 
The New York Times style section is infamously incompetent at determining which trends are real and which trends are trolls. You’d think they’d have learned something after the infamous “grunge speak” hoax in which a Sub Pop Records receptionist convinced them that a bunch of silly gibberish was the latest in Generation X slang, but the incident didn’t stop them from reporting on normcore and monocles. At least the Health Goth trend has some organic roots. There is some debate as to whether weird sporty/satanic fashion hybrid was born on Tumblr or Facebook, and even more as to whether or not Health Goth even generally entails working out—the only thing we can be sure of is that sportswear and heavy black eyeliner are far less mutually exclusive than they used to be.

Let’s say you want to combine fitness and darkness, but don’t have access to a gym with Bauhaus-blasting cycling classes. Never fear, online tutorials already exist! “Yoga Fhtagn” (from “Cthulhu fhtagn,” meaning “Cthulhu waits”), and combines a Lovecraftian horror (is Lovecraft goth?) with low-impact Sun Salutation—minus the sun. The class of the damned is actually led and narrated by no other than feminist writer/journalist and and Harvard Fellow, Laurie Penny—so you know the politics of Health Goth are soundly left (and also that quite a few of the people that admire the style have a sense of humor about how silly it is).

Billed as “the ultimate health goth workout,” Penny’s says her routine will help us “tone our bodies, while slowly losing our minds,” but the video cuts mysteriously short, most likely owing to cosmic monstrosities. Hey, no pain, no gain.
 

 
Take note fashion victims and behold these tiny crochet shorts and ball-hugging crochet pants made entirely from 100% recycled vintage blankets. Not only are these duds dazzling, but they’re eco-friendly, too!

I have a feeling crochet bottoms will be the new tiresome “ugly Christmas sweater” phenomenon. Humans just can’t help themselves, can they?

Here’s what Etsy shop Lord von Schmitt has to say about their designs:

Afghan blankets are original pieces of folk art, hand made by artisans across America since the 1960’s and well before. With scissors and a sewing machine I transform vintage crochets into wearable sculpture!

Oh, and they’re not just for men either, there’s a selection for women as well. I dunno about these, this is where hipsterdom and the parody of hipsterdom meet in some sort of metaphysical paroxysm of idiocy that crawls up its own ass.

 

 
More after the jump…
 

For the uncensored version, see here.
 
The ultra-chic dermal trousers above are housed in Strandagaldur, the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery & Witchcraft, but they are not the last intact pair of necropants—slacks of human skin that some 17th century Icelanders believed brought wealth and good luck to the wearer. These beautiful britches are a actually a facsimile of the last intact pair, which the museum does possess, but presumably keeps more covertly hidden, lest some fashionable sorcerer up and runs off with them. And how’s it done?

If you want to make your own necropants (literally; nábrók) you have to get permission from a living man to use his skin after his dead. After he has been buried you must dig up his body and flay the skin of the corpse in one piece from the waist down. As soon as you step into the pants they will stick to your own skin. A coin must be stolen from a poor widow and placed in the scrotum along with the magical sign, nábrókarstafur, written on a piece of paper. Consequently the coin will draw money into the scrotum so it will never be empty, as long as the original coin is not removed. To ensure salvation the owner has to convince someone else to overtake the pants and step into each leg as soon as he gets out of it. The necropants will thus keep the money-gathering nature for generations.

Cringe if you must, but they’re arguably a more ethical garment than a pair of sweatshop Old Navy cargo shorts, since one had to ask permission from the man before flaying his legs, feet and genitals. If you need a ridiculous visual aid, check out the instructional video below. I like that the phrase “coin purse” can be used both literally and figuratively to describe the process! Also, theft from widows!

(Disclaimer: Neither myself nor Dangerous Minds endorses the wearing of human skin, for either witchcraft or magical purposes. In fact, unless you are Lemmy, maybe stay away from leather pants altogether, huh?)
 

 
Thank you Royal

 
The menstrual hut—a tradition found in many cultures throughout history—is a fascinating phenomenon. During menses, a woman is sequestered in a structure away from the rest of the village; reasons for the practice range from religious ritual to hygiene superstition to merely an attempt to keep track of a woman’s cycle. Regardless of “progressive” attitudes towards fertility and periods, I’ve met many a feminist lady who sees the appeal. One, there’s something refreshing about public acknowledgment of menstruation, so often considered a shamefully private affair. Two, while no one I know would want to be forced into a hut whilst on the rag, sometimes a quiet space away from men is exactly what you want for a couple days out of the month! But is there a modern, liberatory alternative to the menstrual hut?

Enter the Fertility Dress!

 
Artist Elizabeth Tolson is working on a futuristic fashion line called Vessel, the pieces of which monitor the female body with indiscreet technology. The Fertility Dress is an LED-rigged frock that turns blue during ovulation, red during menstruation (duh), and white or yellow “to indicate hygiene,” and the Chastity Dress has an alarm the goes off when you’re groped. Tolson envisions her work as a fascist kind of Atwoodian sartorial control over women’s bodies (check out the awesome dystopian “commercial” for Vessel below), but frankly I’m most intrigued by the positive potential of wearing a dress that screams, “Hey, I’m on my fucking period right now.” Could it be hacked to combine the alarm with the yellow and red lights to deter men? Or would that just attract guys with “filthy and menstruating” fetishes? There are details to be worked out of course, but I think this project has promise!

Also, a very cute Judy Jetson thing going on! It’s like an adorable mobile menstrual hut! What’s not to love?
 

 
Via Design Faves

 
It’s been a heady few weeks in Paris, ever since the murder of twelve employees of the French satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo by Islamist gunmen on January 7. “Je Suis Charlie” has been on everyone’s lips, and a few days after the attack, a massive protest was staged with a multitude of world leaders (noticeably not including Barack Obama).

Now Paris Fashion Week is giving politically minded designers an opportunity to air their views on the situation. Belgian designer Walter Van Beirendonck decided to reference Paul McCarthy’s green Christmas tree installation, which, after it was unveiled last October at Place Vendôme, reminded a whole lot of people of a popular toy designed to fit into a human orifice. The tree lasted a day before someone deflated the tree.

Van Beirendonck adorned his models with large bald eagles with “Christmas trees” hanging from them that look exactly like miniature versions of McCarthy’s sculpture. The symbol of the eagle was apparently chosen as a reference to McCarthy’s nationality. In fact, nearly all of the clothes on display incorporated McCarthy’s design in one way or another, according to Expatica.
 

 
The first image of Van Beirendonck’s show was a model wearing a translucent top with the message “Stop Terrorising Our World” on it, which provided the necessary context to turn the colorful eagles into an authentic statement about freedom of expression.

According to Expatica, Van Beirendonck said: “Initially I didn’t want to make statements. But when you see what is happening in the world you have to react. ... It’s almost a homage to him [McCarthy]. Because I know him, not very well, but I know him. ... I believe no-one has the right to tell anyone else that he can’t show what he wants to.”
 

 
via ANIMAL

 
So we’re clear up front, obviously not ALL heavy metal t-shirts are terrible—you can have my 1997 Keelhaul shirt when you can steal it off my rigid corpse. And of course, over-the-top offensiveness is half or more of the point with a lot of the more brutal bands. But as with many things, a hell of a lot of these ARE just objectively, completely shitty, and the Metal is Awful Tumblr is dedicated to collecting photos of the very worst.

Metal has so many terrible aspects, but the worst is the fucking shirts.

This is where we revel in that awful truth.

We reserve the right to comment on any awful metal shite anywhere, anytime. But mostly just terrible shirts.

And Trey Azagthoth. That guy is an idiot.

 

One of Odin’s ethical axioms is apparently “blow up planet Harrelson.”
 

Morrissey has shirts that are more metal than Diabolos Rising‘s.
 

The front of this VxPxOxAxAxWxAxMxC shirt is kinda crap, too. I’ve never been sure if this band was a goof, or if they were legitimately trying SO HARD to be “extreme” they ended up hilarious by accident. The name stands for “Vaginal Penetration Of An Amelus With A Musty Carrot.” An amelus is a baby born with no limbs. Draw your own conclusions.
 
More ridiculous tees after the jump…

 
No, these aren’t photos from last year’s Coachella festival—which is beginning to look more and more like Spring Break for dumb and pretty trust fund kids, but I digress… They were taken at various high schools around Southern California in 1969 by LIFE photographer Arthur Schatz.

I wonder if H&M took any style inspiration from these photos for their new “H&M Loves Coachella” line? Aside from the plastic surgery, not much has changed…

 

 

 

 
More after the jump…

 
High fashion can be difficult to digest. The expectation of functional vestments—you know, clothes a person might actually wear—has been all-but-supplanted by what appears to be a bunch of Long Island City warehouse assemblage artists just using human bodies as a sort of coincidental medium. It’s like they started out as abstract sculptors, but then they realized they could make a million bucks selling ready-to-wear to four or five Central Park West socialites and said, “fuck it, we’ll just slap a bunch of weird shit on my skinny friend Danielle and send her down the runway.”

These LEGO masks from “makeup/interdisciplinary artist” Isamaya Ffrench (also known for putting plastic grocery bags on models’ faces) come from the not-really-intended-to-be-worn-by-mere-mortals school of fashion, and while appreciate the playful creativity of it all, I can’t help but think they’re a heavy-handed attempt to electrify an otherwise rather sedate collection from designers Agi and Sam.

Or maybe LEGO-face is a much more subtle look than I’m giving it credit for?
 

 

 
More of this foolishness after the jump…