I may wax poetic on the beauty of the perfect outfit (literally) and urge you to buy this Topshop jacket where a Wooly Mammoth in New Zealand may or may not have been skinned alive to produce it. But, at the end of the day, there is no fashion without feminism. That is to say that clothes are great and stuff but when we peel back the layers of Celine and Zara and get to the core of the woman in question, she is the one who makes the clothes. Her drive. Her inner beauty. Her passion. Her ambition. Her confidence. It seems like the dawning of the Age of Aquarius but Hair was a really shitty musical so let's go with the dawning of the age of feminism and give it three cheers!
Now, I could chew your ears off (hm, since we're not exactly verbalizing, perhaps burn your eyes out) with a lengthy essay quite possibly longer than the seventh Harry Potter book on the beauty of feminism. But alas, let's keep it short and sweet here. I'd like to take a moment to give a standing O to Senator Elizabeth Anne Warren. Don't be fooled by her name which seems to imply a lady who lunches on caviar on Chanel. Oh, she lunches but her feast consists of misogynyst, racist, homophobic swinebags in government.
She is the unsung hero of the United States so I wanted to sing about her for a bit tralalalalalala. I fell in love with her when she stood strong for Planned Parenthood. Unwavering and eloquent, she enlightened the fuckboys of Congress that fought tooth and nail to defund it. They may have had a problem with it since it's the only service that treats women as a priority in a world that subjects them to inferiority. Elizabeth Warren's diatribe in support of PP was nothing short of a masterpiece. She spoke the truth in a world that loves to feed lies. She was outspoken in a world that loves to silence women. She was... ok, you get the point - she went there:
"Make no mistake—what this is really about is about women’s access to abortion. And even though not one federal dollar goes to pay for abortions through Planned Parenthood, the Republicans want to find one more way to make it harder—to make it impossible—for a woman who is facing one of the most difficult decisions of her life, they want to find a way to make it harder on her to get the health care she needs. And all I can say is we’ve been in that world before. When I talk about 1955, I’m talking about a world where women died. I’m talking about a world where women committed suicide rather than go forward with a pregnancy they could not handle. And what the Republicans are saying is that they want us to go back. And I want to make it clear that we’re not going back, Not now, not ever."
If the last line didn't send chills up your spine, I suggest reading a Goosebump novel. But if it did give you chills and also the sudden urge to fist-pump the air screaming 'YAS QUEEN', then this is why we are here. I want to celebrate women who celebrate women. We have to fight the good fight and praise SHEEZUS CHRIST for Elizabeth Warren! And because I would die with mysterious circumstances if she ever wore a Gucci coat phresh off the runway, I decided this might not happen so I made fetch happen and put this beautiful bombshell in one.
(Last but never least, incase you weren't already obsessed with this bespectacled goddess, please check out how she feels about Black Lives Matter and Syrian refugees. Pretty please with a massive cherry on top, I beg you history-textbook-writer-people-of-2068 to include a whole chapter on her! She deserves it!)