Oh, goody, you can ask me questions now
Let's have a deep and meaningful, email me: bcsuckitandsee at gmail dot com
I’m not a fan of make up or of advertising or of the beauty industry in general but I admire what this woman is doing.
Maybelline “Confidence” ads. SO happy with how the colors in these turned out in printing and matting. To clarify, these are not real Maybelline ads, they were created for an advertising class.
EDIT: This is important. This means a lot to me. I legitimately believe a huge mistake was made today.
These ads were a part of my portfolio into the advanced advertising program at my school. About half of the people who apply get in. I got into the first two creative classes, intro and intermediate, and I was confident I would get into advanced… especially after I posted these on tumblr and in a matter of a few hours got THOUSANDS of notes with people saying that they loved them, most people even believing they were real advertisements and not something a 21 year old student made for class.
The only reservation I had was that my portfolio was being judged by two older men. Two men who have never worn makeup in their lives. Two men who would probably not even begin to understand what this campaign means. Two men who have never been under societal pressures to wear makeup, but then being told they’re insecure for doing so.
Those reservations might have been founded, as evidenced by the fact that I did not get in. I was rejected. I got over 5,500 notes on these ads in 24 hours, yet I was rejected for not being good enough. I can’t finish the program, and I have to figure out where to go from here.
Now to the good stuff: Tumblr is amazing. Everyone who has reblogged this, whether your comments were negative or positive, is amazing. I find it truly astounding that these have gotten so much attention. These, which are advertisements selling you something, something people inherently dislike. I am humbled, shocked, and grateful. This is the first time since I’ve been in advertising that I felt like I was doing something right… that maybe, just maybe, I could make it in this industry and make a positive change.
Those dreams were squashed today. I cried, and I complained. I’m angry — but not at myself like I thought I would be. I feel they made a mistake. I refuse to believe that I’m in the bottom 50% of the people who applied. I deserve to be in that program, and I know it. Thousands of people can’t be wrong that this is a good idea. An idea that MEANS something, and idea that resonates with many people. 2 older, conventional men can absolutely be wrong when it comes to judging what makes a good makeup ad.
Here’s where you come in. Let’s make them regret their decision. Reblog this, like it, comment on it, whatever. Let’s get this attention… so much attention that they can’t ignore it. While the decisions are most likely final, I want to make them think twice. I want them to look back, and believe that they fucked up. If it doesn’t even benefit me personally, I want them to think about how fair a panel of 2 male judges is when it comes to evaluating work done by women, for an audience that consists of predominantly people who identify as women.
So let’s do this. They fucked up; I deserved to be accepted. I know it, and I have a feeling you guys know it too.
Everyday by Saltpeter
A little slice of laid-back loveliness. Makes my heart smile.
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I’m not afraid anymore. This is my home now. I’ve seen the sun dapple golden through the rotting roof onto the leaves below. I’ve watched the roots strangle the last of the walls.
The seasons change and I watch them unaffected. It’s only nature. The wind howls, the rains fall, sometimes there is snow - shimmering pretty in the moonlight, a white lullaby shushing everything it covers.
I know things. I know him. I know he brought me here and I know why. Why only he comes here. I’ve seen his nightmares - tiny arms reaching for him out of the darkness, disembodied eyes, wide, wet and pleading, the soft pitiful sobbing, the screams. I’ve seen the way his body thrashes in the strangling sheets, have smelt hot sweat and piss. He never dreams.
He is afraid. I am not. I am patient. He will return here, someday. I will be waiting. Here among the golden leaves. Guarding my shallow grave.
NOTE: The lovely Anna or @ruanna3 if you tweet, has been running a competition called Faerytaleish on her blog. Basically she’s pinned a whole load of very inspirational images in Pinterest. All you have to do is pick one (or more) and write a story (or two). 300 words or less. Ends midnight tonight. Click here for more details about Faerytaleish.
Image via Matt Sloane http://pinterest.com/falconfeathers/
Driving home from church that Sunday, packed into the car like only a family of seven can be. Even with the aircon on, the heat singes my shoulder jammed up against the window.
Daddy’s having a go at Kemi again, while she sits stony faced, body drumskin tense: “You’re no child of mine why can’t you just be like everyone else what have I done deserve such a useless child why is God punishing me…”
“Enough!” The word explodes from Kemi’s mouth stopping Daddy mid-sentence. We all sit there shell-shocked, and all I can hear is the sound of my own heart beating in my ears.
NOTE: I thought I’d give this intriguing little writing exercise from the Lillie McFerrin Writes blog a go. You can join in the fun here: Five Minute Fiction: Silence
I Love You Too, Toots
Read at Liars League Leeds, January 2012.
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Oh fucking yes.
[I wrote this in November last year and I actually still love it, so I thought I’d share. I really want to make something more of it, maybe an animation or get it illustrated or both. My friend Graeme did do this one illustration for me, which I think is awesome. Maybe he’ll get round to doing the rest eventually.]
1. On a night out with the girls, you absentmindedly leave it by the sink, in the loos. Some other girl finds it, takes it home.
2. You leave it between the covers of a book - you can’t remember which. Maybe it’ll turn up again when you find the book, reread it.
3. You give it to a good friend for safe-keeping. She loses it.
4. You meet it at a party, you have a good chat, you exchange numbers, it never returns your calls.
5. You miss the boat. You miss the train. You miss the bus. You miss the plane.
6. It’s languishing down the back of the sofa you sold on Ebay when you moved house.
7.You have one of those dreams where you’re holding it in your hands and everything is perfect. Then you wake up.
8. A fortune teller tells you exactly where to find it. You don’t believe her.
9. It’s right there in front of you but it doesn’t look anything like you’d expected, so you don’t notice till it’s gone.
10. You have it and decide to set it free. It does not come back.
Illustration by Graeme McGregor
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