Tuesday 20 August 2013

An Open Letter to VICE

Dear Vice,

I first heard about you a few years ago. I picked you up in Pop Boutique on one of my first visits to Manchester's Northern Quarter when I was around fourteen or so. Now, I can't say I've read every issue, as lately I'm finding it pretty bloody hard to find somewhere that actually has copies, but I like to think that I've read enough of you, both online and in the flesh, to have an idea of what you're all about.

Now first and foremost, I would like to say thank you for being free. I'm sick and tired of paying the earth for magazines that are 60% adverts, 30% rubbish fashion and 10% decent articles. It's not often that things are given out for free these days, especially things of substance that will actually keep somebody occupied for as long as you keep me. So yeah, cheers for that.



I'd also like to take this moment to say how much I genuinely enjoy your articles. Thanks to you I've learnt about how to cook deep fried tarantulas, which are the best hotels in Afghanistan and a whole ream of other useless, but interesting information. And your documentaries! I now know to avoid home made heroin in Russia, be careful of strangers who may try to spike me in Columbia, and that injecting snake venom is just plain weird (but I already kinda knew that anyway). Seriously. I know this sounds tongue-in-cheek but the stuff that you contain is genuinely interesting, and I particularly admire the writers' desire to get really 'stuck in' with their research and travel to some pretty fucking weird and dangerous places in order to write something for a free magazine that some blonde chick called Dani may pick up and have a read of.


But there's always a but, and I'm afraid to say that you are not an exception. Ever since I first made my way through your pages all those years ago, there's been something that makes me feel almost uncomfortable when reading you, and for me, it ruins what could be a really decent read. Not having been able to put my finger on it for years, I've stubbornly kept reading, telling myself that I was being silly – a magazine shouldn't give you any sort of feeling, except maybe a vague sense of agreement or disagreement about something written in it. But your magazine, guys, your magazine has something wrong with it.

Vice has an attitude problem.


There. I said it. I know that Vice is only meant for hipsters, and hipsters are supposed to pretend that they don't notice the distinctly unfriendly, judgemental tone of the writing, but I do notice it, and I'm not afraid to say it: Vice intimidates me. Maybe I'm just used to the over-eager, over-enthusiastic vibe to girlie mags like Cosmo, but I still find it irritating that a magazine can have that much presence. It shouldn't intimidate me. I'm exactly the kind of person that Vice targets. I'm a wannabe feature writer with an overly cynical view on things, I know who CocoRosie are and I have an all-seeing-eye tattoo. I'm also guilty of finding the unwashed, grungy look attractive and I have a dry sense of humour. I've practically got 'arsehole' stamped across my forehead.

So just what is it about you that irritates me so? Well, I'm sorry to say that I've came to the (right) conclusion that it's a number of things, and if you ever read this, which you probably won't, then it really is imperative that you hire me immediately to put things right before this terrible attitude sweeps the nation and turns even more people into sulky, unwashed skinny things who need a burger and an afternoon with Jedward to perk them up a bit.

#1. Your writers clearly haven't got over their inferiority complexes.

Okay, so probably not all of them. I haven't read pieces by everyone. I'm sure there are some genuinely self-assured people that work for you who don't have mummy issues and eastern European girls locked in their cellars, but from what I've seen so far, I'd have to say that the vast majority certainly do. Take this guy who wrote this piece about Lad culture, and this one about a celebrity appearance in a nightclub. Now while I can't fault the guy's talent (both pieces are extremely well written and funny in a sort of scathing, snobby sort of way), it does seem pretty obvious that he grew up an awkward social reject with no fashion sense or muscles, got picked on during his high school years, and, as a result of these experiences, decided that charity shop couture was his 'thing' (even before Macklemore, ooh), and that his bitterness, rather than being a flaw in his character, is something that should be nurtured and expressed in a way that mocks and ostracises the very people that used to mock and ostracise him.

Now, there's nothing wrong with a bit of scathing, dry humour in writing. I'm guilty of it myself, but I like to think that it's because I'm just a bit of a bitch as oppose to a damaged, bitter hag that will end up with a curved spine and a permanent scowl on my face. I guess what I'm trying to say is that there's nothing wrong with being a bit insulting and cynical if it's meant in a light-hearted way - I wouldn't emulate cynical writers if I thought there was - but when it seems like a chronic dislike of people who may well be perfectly lovely, it just reeks of nastiness and insecurity.

I think that maybe your writers need to loosen up a bit and not pretend that they love being a bit weird and awkward when they so blatantly are holding a grudge against the world that all stems from them being, you've guessed it, weird and awkward.

#2 For God's sake, make fashion about fashion

I'm so bored of this weird trend that involves fashion shoots being more about nudity than clothes, the emphasis being more on how cool it is to live in a crack den with unwashed hair than to actually buy the clothes being advertised. Now, American Apparel are buggers for this, but I guess it's their own decision as to how to market their own product. You, on the other hand give the impression of a fashion spread, where possibly the only item of clothing actually visible is the collar of a denim jacket or a lone shoe on the floor.



Your focus is more on shock value and heroin chic than actually advertising clothes, and while I know the brands you're advertising do tend to make clothes for people who want to look like crack whores, it doesn't stop me being irritated at your pretentiousness. Let's not, not even for a moment, pretend that the people reading Vice are not actually concerned about fashion. I know that it's 'cool' to look like you've just rolled out of bed and put on your grandad's jumper without taking a second look in the mirror, but let's be honest, looking like you live on the streets is a fine art that takes a lot of working at to achieve! So really, while your readers may tell themselves that they love the fashion shoots that you pop out monthly, I'm sure they're all really dying to see how these clothes would be put together in the real world so that they can rush out and turn themselves into clones of the models, all the while pretending to everybody that they don't give a rat's arse about their appearance.

So please, just stop. I know the photographers are really on the ball with what's cool and what's not, and I know that they use all the fancy lenses that the cool kids of today adore but if you're really advertising clothes, then advertise clothes, don't advertise a certain lifestyle under the guise of fashion.



#3 Start being original!

The whole skinny, pale, indie drug scene has been done so many times. Yes, it's cool to do drugs. It always has been, and it probably always will be, despite what your teachers will tell you, but this shameless 'ripping off' of punk rock and the old Manchester music scene is becoming embarrassing. Stone Roses, Joy Division, white power, unbrushed hair, bla bla, find a new trend! Stop wearing ridiculous clothes that don't suit you just because somebody, somewhere, forty years ago did. Oh, and while you're at it, bear in mind that 'vintage' or 'pre-loved' are actually just other words for 'second hand,' which doesn't sound quite as cool, does it?

John Lydon, or Johnny Rotten for those of you who don't know as much as you think you do, used to hate people like you! He especially hated the safety pin trend, complaining that it started because the arse in his jeans ripped and he had to hold them together with pins as he couldn't afford to buy more, but then people started copying him because it looked edgy and cool. Same with Sid Vicious, who invented the 'pogo stick' dance move accidentally when he was jumping up and down trying to see the band performing on stage.

I'm sorry to say but I really feel that my generation is one of posers, of people who have no originality of their own and so feel the need to imitate people from days gone by. Our generation just loves to be different, but because we're all trying to be different, we all end up the same, and your magazine doesn't help. Instead of putting all your effort into creating fascinating articles that people will read (and the potential is there, don't get me wrong), you instead choose to focus on how cool it is to live in a crack den, mock anybody 'different' (or, in other words, not an indie clone) and wear your granny's dresses.


Let me know when you've grown up, Vice. Until then, I'll keep reading things that are written by real life losers, not people just pretending to be.  


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