IMAGE:

My phone is glued to my being, it is my extended self, I am addicted, hypnotized like a moth to a flame from the RGB pixels. 

What I’ve realized is that my true vice is image. Image is everywhere. From the moment I wake up, to my last seconds till sleep, it's incomprehensible how many images I consume daily. When I wake up in the morning, I am surrounded by posters and postcards on my bedroom wall. When I open my phone, my lock screen, social media, my own photo library. All images curated to me, all with the intention of making me yearn for something I don't have. Taking me away from appreciating the present moment. The clothes I put on, the packaging I use. Signage, ads, ephemera, it's everywhere. Every image I consume is flowing within my psyche at rapid pace, leaving me with only wants. Still, I have little understanding of how much it affects my ability of choice. 

What I do know is that I am left in a constant state of inadequacy. I am far too aware of my body, my material items, my fashion, my money. I am losing my life on my phone, and in the same breath, being constantly sold material desires to numb down the anxieties of wasted mortality. It's a cycle, and this project is my attempt at understanding and breaking the cycle.

If this feeling is shared, for you, reader, I want to tell you that this manifesto is not actually about our phones. I find that this is a good starting point of relatability. Ultimately, I want you to understand material desire, and to understand how to go back to your truest wants and means of self expression. How to train your mind to look at an image, and devise whether it is helping you or selling you something. Helping you to understand your taste, whether it be in trend or not. How to feel comfortable and free being you, and being present in all ages of womanhood, this is through kitsch. 


KITSCH DEFINED:

The term Kitsch describes  an object considered of “bad taste,” or “artistic rubbish”. Coined from the German word “Verkitschen”: meaning to sentimentalize, make cheap, Kitsch is often used alongside words like gaudy and tacky. When you Google Kitsch, Wikipedia’s first example of modern kitsch is Cassius Marcellus Coolidge’s painting A Friend in Need, or Dogs Playing Poker. Overall, the common understanding is that these are items of familiarity, pieces of the past, and often mass replications of references from high society reproduced and marketed to be low-brow, cheap. 


Today our discussions, perceptions, and applications of art from the past face a different judgment. Beauty has been reduced and commodified as something that is bought. The pace of ever-changing idealized beauty in the images we consume has become part of one homogenized eye. Kitsch is a way of seeing through the collective eye, with an imagined group of people seeing it alongside you. We as a collective use kitsch as a familiarized image in order to ignore all in life that is not aesthetically agreeable. Perhaps, is there a way to use it to disrupt? To refuse? How can we as women present ourselves on our own terms? How can we refuse the gaze,  timelines, and expectations?

In order to free ourselves within queerness and womanhood, one must embrace their inner kitsch, deconstructed from the guise of patriarchy, capitalism and white supremacy.


THE WOMAN IS KITSCH:  

Image is what defines our everyday decisions as women. We are surrounded by image. It is considered the “Dark Matter” according to artists Pinar Demirdag and Viola Renate: “an inescapable perception.” Image determines desire, taste, lifestyle. Kitsch can define this perception of the image we have towards ourselves as women.


Let's think more about the literal embodiment of modern kitsch. I want you to think about something you own that someone else may find to be cheap, tacky, out of style. You keep this item because it brings you joy or holds sentimental ties. This item has a story, it's all part of a system of image making. I have a little clown in my room, no larger than my hand. It is wearing a pink blouse with synthetic gold lace trim and little green pom pom buttons. Its face is ceramic with a happy expression painted on. It has a yellow yarn bowl cut, and on top a hot pink cone hat with a green pom pom. It is missing a hand, where instead there’s a bit of wire. I got her at an estate sale in Redmond, Washington, my hometown. The woman who sold me this clown is a mother, whose kids were all grown up. Her home was a maze of kitsch collectables. Rooms FILLED to the brim with shelves of themed toys from the seventies to the nineties. Hot wheels, Betty Boop, Lincoln Logs, model airplanes, GI Joe - you name it, she had it. You could sense, as you walked in, that her kids were loved. It wasn't due to the number of toys they had, but rather the quality time spent caring for those toys and keeping them safe. She didn’t discard them the moment a child lost interest; instead, she took care of the items she knew her kids had once cherished. Mothers hold our dreams and keep them safe. By taking care of the things we loved as kids, we are giving them another opportunity for a new life with the next generations. Even if they do end up being in an estate sale, people come because they love collecting items with a lifetime before them, as they too can feel the love from the past mother.


When I bought this clown from her, she expressed immense joy. She told me that in her home country of Ecuador, clowns were beloved in her childhood, and kids everywhere loved clowns as they were associated with parties, festivals, and gatherings. In the US, she believed the media had villainized clowns, as the killer clown trope had completely oversaturated what children today think of clowns. She was happy that I found it cute and comforting, because that is exactly how she saw it. I was able to feel the sentiments, the love, the kitsch within this little pink clown, and I take it with me into any new home that I live in. 


Do you have an item like this? What is its story? When I think about items like this clown, antiques, and other ephemera. To me, they are all tied to a woman. I may not know them personally, or even know specifically who to identify, but there is a woman. We as women gather. We collect. We keep things beautiful. We archive in away where our love prevails anyone telling us that something is too cheap or tacky and worth throwing out. We hoard like packrats, but these items represent a little part of our souls.


Women, to me, are kind of like the objects we find in an antique shop. Even in our youth, we are sold “preventative” measures: retinol creams, anti-wrinkle straws, preventative botox, etc. There is a fear deep down that when we get old, our value decreases, and our place in the trend cycle is a thing of the past, expired. Once we age, we go out of style, we are discarded, given away, donated, or stored in a cardboard box to not be in the way. When we give in and attempt to purchase our youth, we distract from being present in the moment. We are people, we age, and we shall not stand by and allow our dignity to be dictated by how old or young we look.


The process of womanhood is inherently kitsch. Despite our progress, the societal value of women is still tied to youth. Women are presented as a glossy, idealized image and are later disposed of, discarded like ephemera. Like in kitsch, these recreations of an idealized woman are mass-produced in an endless cycle of consumption. Queer culture disrupts this cycle through its direct references of kitsch. Queerness and its cultural practices often parody, subvert and reinvent society's image of an idealized woman, examining the timeline of kitsch and reimagining the cycle.   

In ballroom and drag culture, figures are preserved and reclaimed as the eternal icon. Figures like Judy Garland, Madonna, even Lady Gaga have been continuously re-evaluated over time, referenced, and celebrated within this community. There is a cycle of reciprocity and love between these women and the communities they continued to dedicate their careers to. To me, they never feel old or of the past, because the way their works have an everlasting conversation makes them take up space in a way that never makes them go out of style.




BODIES:

Aging is a privilege. Beauty brands want you to believe that they are centered around “wellness” instead of ageism. Through a shift in language, they’ve convinced us that with a purchase or two, we are instilling preventative “care”. In silence, we spend our time purchasing new creams and chemicals in the name of self care or personal maintenance, but in reality, it is all in the fear of growing old. 

While taking care of our bodies is important, the aesthetic concerns of an anti-wrinkle straw is not equivalent to our health as UV protectant sunscreen is. We are so afraid of aging and yet, afraid to admit it. 


We praise women in Hollywood for “aging gracefully”, but why? Should they not be proud of the decades they have contributed to popular culture? Even when young, our pain, exhaustion, or any expression that is not visually appealing is meant to be hidden or undermined. Mothers will share their special secrets with daughters. “Don't squint your eyes”. On our phones, our role models will show us ways to laugh without using the muscles that make smile lines. We associate success with wealth, and wealth as giving us the disposable income to repurchase a younger version of ourselves that ultimately doesn't exist. It doesn't give us more time. Instead, the beauty industry perpetuates a system where women are only given dignity in a patriarchal society if they are deemed attractive. It’s clear what this idealized image of a woman is supposed to look like. They don't want us to have any evidence of life. 


I, for one, am exhausted by this fear. Moreover, I am fed up with the images around us that motivate it. Wrinkles are the scapegoat. Youth is the accessory to be bought, but not even it’s purchase is celebrated. The surgeries and regimens can all be done behind the scenes as trade secrets., making it all seem natural.


Another manifesto could be written on how the idealized image of women is linked to pedophilia, but instead, I will discuss the concept of the “kitsch-man,” a term derived from Gillo Dorfles' book “Kitsch: The World of Bad Taste”. Beauty can serve as a distraction, but we must not overlook how its motivations arise from pornography and pornokitsch. The "disposable and forgettable" nature of pornography mirrors the general perception kitsch. Both fictitious vice and pleasure are associated with the desirability of youthful women. Pornography operates as a “nonaesthetic phenomenon for mindless consumption.” This can be termed "pornokitsch," a phenomenon characterized by a deprivation of taste on both an aesthetic and anthropological level.



“The Kitsch-man cannot acknowledge that his engagement with erotic material is a form of voyeurism, a morbid act that reveals his entire personality. He prefers to believe that this engagement is something detached, merely a technical exercise or education.” In this way, the act of retail therapy in the guise of anti-aging “self care” methods contributes the same mind numbing stimulus. When we buy into the fetishization of repurchased youth, we are distracting ourselves from the actual harm the system instills.   



I cannot go further in writing without acknowledging my perspective today. I admit that I am in the age range that is deemed desirable, between the age 18-24, freshly an adult. I can't ignore that I am in a place of privilege with how I am perceived as a young, able bodied, white, thin, woman. The outside perceptions just by vision are dignified more than if I was 50 years older. I cannot deny my fears of aging, as the world is kind to me now. I fear for the abilities my body will lose and the humanity I will not be spared. When I am 30, 40, 50 years older, I may too give into anti-aging measures, to buy more time in the trend cycle that is against odds with my aging self. 


I write this piece to understand that I am not a trend. My body exists beyond my age. While I am young I have the power to mentally combat the trends of how my body should look and what is expected of me in my self image as related to my age. I know that if I choose to live in the present and keep hold of the ideals, it won’t be as scary if I spent more of my life embracing every age I get the privilege of experiencing instead of fearing it. For a lot of young people, we feel doomed. According to the world’s largest ever study into young people’s fears about the climate crisis, 45 percent of 16-25-year-olds said climate-related anxiety and distress is affecting their daily lives and ability to function normally. What is the point of celebrating the lives we have now, when we are constantly grieving the past and the future? How do we persevere?


Time and time again, physical traits that we are born with are processed through the lens of the people around us. Freckles become commodified into a pen. Pimples, now decorated with vibrant stars. Celebration of what makes us unique is important, but commodifying off physical traits feels conflicting. We are only allowed to celebrate our insecurities when the beauty industry finds a way to commodify them and make them part of the shared ideal of what is beautiful that year, month, week. Embellishment is something we do to things we love, and I wonder how one can embellish and celebrate without the push of the beauty industry.


Self-image is intricately tied to a toxic cycle that influences our choices. We have the power to either conform to current trends or trust our own taste, whether with popular opinion or not. Influencers are the tastemakers, and our personal devices make purchasing their looks far too easy. AI influencers are now in existence, promoting products we’re encouraged to wear on our own bodies, despite theirs not being real. Fashion for women has historically drawn inspiration from the elite, but is often replicated in a more accessible way. We are led to believe that we can emulate what we see on our phones, but the reality is that it’s not truly attainable. Influencers marketing anti-aging are unfortunately role models to a larger audience than they perhaps anticipate. Girls as young as 10 feel compelled to use retinol, to emulate what they see women doing online to appear grown-up. Because of this fast nature of images, how are we able to see the damage done to kids? Who now is focused on the same habits grown women are conditioned to see as normal? Can they even be present in living as their most authentic selves? Do they dare be embarrassed? Wear outrageous clothes? Have interests that aren't solely sourced from social media?



We hold immense power to influence the narrative around beauty and aging, yet we often miss the opportunity to simplify our own lives. Imagine if we shifted the conversation around aging to make it the new trend. What if tastemakers embraced authenticity and celebrated personal taste in all its forms, regardless of societal standards?What if we as a collective, became our own tastemakers, and promoted a movement into appreciating aging, appreciating presence, and how our poor taste is what makes us individuals? What if we all learned from queer culture and reinvented our perception of the “idealized woman,” taking cues from the self expression born of subverting beauty standards and gender norms?



“Just to let you guys know, aging is fully in — like fully.” -Julia Fox


Brands often craft their messaging in a way that feels personal, as if they genuinely have our best interests at heart. Influencers particularly excel at this, creating a sense of closeness through their insights into daily life. This leads to parasocial relationships, which are alarmingly easy to form in the age of influencers. They entice us and can make us feel trapped, ultimately prompting us to question how we can break free from their influence. How can we uncover our own inner tastemakers and express ourselves beyond conventional beauty standards? What if we could disrupt the everyday visual landscape and redefine what is considered beautiful?


FEMME:

Aging is a privilege for those of us who are queer or trans. For many who have managed to live beyond the average life expectancy of 35, growing older is not just a gift but an act of resistance. Every day,  individuals try to erase the existence of our trans sisters and to delegitimize their girlhood and womanhood.


As a queer woman, I am comfortable in my identity as femme. I realize that I didn't have to struggle as much to be able to sit here today, safely being myself. When I see my femme elders, they demonstrate the beautiful possibilities for my life, and I wouldn't want it any other way. Being femme means embracing our identity as “women who like and act like girls and who desire girls. We are the queerest of the queers” Joan Nestle, The Persistent Desire.


As we age, we embody an even stronger act of resistance to the world. Femmes represent the complete erasure of any male perspective or desire, creating a world that is truly ours. In this world, we embrace our trans sisters, our partners, wives, and lovers. Together, we form our villages of women, working in harmony to cultivate a safe haven outside of the confines of the patriarchy.


THE GIRLHOUSE:

To fully understand one’s kitsch girlhood, you need to live it. I often think about homes without fathers or adult men in them—whether it's a group of non-men as roommates in their twenties, single mothers with daughters, lesbian couples, or women living with their sisters. There are countless ways to build a home.


I often see this concept beautifully portrayed in movies and shows—houses of women. Examples include *Practical Magic*, *The Incredibly True Adventures of 2 Girls in Love*, *Sabrina the Teenage Witch*, and *Gilmore Girls*. These homes radiate immense comfort, love, style, and a sense of kitsch. They remind me of the places I visited as a girl, particularly at my friends’ houses with single moms, which were often filled with love, clutter, and color. Stepping into such a space envelops you in care, creating a sanctuary that protects your dreams.


One of my best friends fully realized her queer identity, when the only way she could envision life was as a single mother to a daughter—an idyllic life without a man. I think I’ve shared these fantasies of a matriarchal home. Something I call the “Queer Girl House.” More than anything, when I fantasize about what life could be, I think I always come back to the idea of the Girl House. This isn’t to say that I harbor any animosity towards men; rather, I simply don't need one in a romantic sense. I do not rely on men to create a feeling of home. Women make me feel safe, bring me comfort, make me laugh, and enhance the beauty of the world around me. They intuitively understand my quirks and kitsch possessions just as I understand theirs. 


BUYING NEW IS OUT OF STYLE:


I believe it's completely natural for humans to collect things that resonate with us. Art comes in countless forms, and I find that everyone has the ability to collect and curate their own items. However, where collecting can sometimes miss the mark is in the pursuit of new items: shoes, bags, and other trendy products. These things already exist, and I think many people are collecting in a misguided way. 


What I love about kitsch is that there’s a wealth of items from the past just waiting to be discovered and displayed on my trinket shelf. When I visit antique malls, estate sales, and thrift stores, I’m not just buying objects; I’m acquiring pieces that have already lived through at least one other person’s lifetime—perhaps a woman whose story is connected to the item. 


By choosing to collect new, limited-edition, inexpensive, and often poorly made items of today, we send a message to manufacturers that we have low expectations regarding quality. We chase the immediate satisfaction of acquiring something new, another quick dopamine hit. I enjoy collecting toys, but I can immediately tell that the toys produced today lack the attention to detail found in those made 30 years ago. Many items are simply not designed with quality and longevity in mind.


As a woman who loves kitsch, I think it’s important to embrace existing items from the past. We need to stop buying new products, even though this can be easier said than done. When I see an advertisement for the latest Sonny Angel collection or an adorable new phone case, I ask myself what my true motivations are for wanting these items. Is this something I genuinely desire, or am I just influenced by my Instagram feed, which bombards me with ads suggesting these are the things I want? Will this item last, or is it merely a fleeting trend? 


TO BE CONTINUED?

Sure, kitsch is often associated with past trends, but I would rather revive a trend using items from the past than contribute to the mass production of today's inferior products. Further, we must defend the importance of kitsch as a tool for self-expression in a world where consumption, identity and image are increasingly homogenized. Kitsch is not only a reflection of womanhood but an expression of womanhood. Celebrating kitsch and its aesthetic qualities challenges the patriarchal systems that deny respect to older women, hyper-feminine women, gender-nonconforming women, queer identities, and anyone who fits outside of our current beauty standard.