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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