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The Hole, a gallery in NYC run by Kathy Grayson, features contemporary art from the world’s most interesting emerging artists in an effort to fill the hole in the downtown community. Open to the public Wednesday through Sunday from 12-7PM, there is plenty of time to check out Jaimie Warren's talent-packed new show That's What Friends Are For, showing now through May 4th. Jaimie Warren is a Kansas City/New York City artist, and was featured at the BUST and Superchief co-curated group art show, LADIES REPRESENT! this past August. Warren has...
The first time I walked the streets of Manhattan alone at night, I was 18 and terrified. I now know that I was walking from the West to the East Village, and through one of the safest parts of the city, but at the time I was just a doe-eyed youth and non-NYC native, afraid of being kidnapped, or groped, or probably just looked at the wrong way. On that night almost four years ago, I called my best friend and made her talk to me...
My day was just ruined by a little viral video about men learning the science of seducing women. This video isn’t about how to get to know women, or listen to what they want or need, it's about straight up TRICKING THEM INTO BEING SEXUALLY AND EMOTIONALLY DEPENDENT ON YOU. Gosh, I know that sounds like the perfect relationship for every woman everywhere!  I especially love that the video credits women’s super basic DNA and uncontrollable primal urges as the research. Furthermore, this is actually marketed...
I stumbled across Menstruation Barbie on Instagram while in a fury of feminist rage, reaching my breaking point with sorority pledges and first date live streams. My search began with a hunt for subversive Barbie art  (fav pastime!) and I am so damn thankful that I ended up with this sassy lass! Not only is Crampy Carla refreshing and sassy, her posts are encouraging and empowering to women everywhere. The mastermind behind ‘Crampy Carla’ is the delightful Kristin Krein, queen bee of Fourth Wave Freaks (amazing...
My first experience with a Walkman is forever burned into my memory. My mom and I went to some local mixed-media store that has since gone out of business, and I begged her to shell out the dollars so I could listen to my Spice Girls in isolated bliss. My player of choice was bright red and had a Mickey-head shaped window to view the magical spinning of those cassette wheels. I put on my headphones, pressed the massive plastic play button, and yelled to...
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