Flipping through Details magazine at 1:00am on Friday night. No, it’s okay, I just got back from the
Lyric Diner with friends, and we might go out to play yet. Meanwhile, I note a few disturbing trends
and bits of info as I flip through these glossy pages — specifically, the fashion industry, having
long ago (mercifully) abandoned heroin-chic, seems to have replaced it this season with war chic.
A Marithé et François Girbaud ad paints a confusing and unsettling scene of people in vaguely
soldierly clothing and dog tags screaming and reaching for what must be a fallen comrade. All are
covered in filth and black goo amid a stark field of dirt; black smoke from distant explosions rises in
the distance.
And pulling no punches, Dolce and Gabbana, whose ads usually ooze not-always-benign homoeroticism, has
a two-page spread of men in bomber jackets in a room full of Roman military artifacts; a woman in a
Marie Antoinette wig, gigantic leather jackboots, and nothing else; and another schlub on the ground,
shirt open, forehead sporting a bloody bullet hole. No mistaking the theme here.
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