Creative | Posted by Vicki S on 09/19/2016

Meet The Teen Artist Tackling Everyday Sexism In Her Work

19-year-old Röra Blue first caught the Internet’s attention with her jarringly honest photo series, “The Unsent Project.” The project, which has already accumulated thousands of submissions, is a collection of unsent text messages to first loves. First launched on Tumblr, users can now submit their unsent texts directly through Röra’s website: They can choose the color of their message, type their unspoken words to first significant others, and can then print them into stickers.

The Unsent Project:

The Unsent Project:

Recently, Röra has focused her attention on a new, more feminist-minded project: “Handle With Care.

According to Röra’s website, “Handle With Care” seeks to capture sexist comments — literally. Her photos asks viewers to pay attention to sexism by forcing them to engage with and critique many …

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Creative | Posted by Shannon H on 04/8/2016

The Binary

With our first breaths we are packaged and

itemized. We are placed on a conveyer belt and

processed through our adjacent existences

of Pink and Blue.

And I wonder what my colour is,

as a person who is both, and neither,

and nothing, and everything.

Sometimes I think that it must be White.

I feel as though if I close my eyes

I will be absorbed into that nebulous space

where I am supposed to exist.

My brother and sister sit on opposite sides of the same room;

I look at them and see that I am neither.

I do not belong in this space,

and in this realization the void has never felt so harrowing.

From within quiet rooms I hear whispers

about my hair and clothes, and I…

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Creative | Posted by Jo E on 01/22/2016

Bisexuality Isn’t Real, My Ass.

Somehow she ended up sitting next to me on the couch as the five of us snuggled. Three of us ended up on the L shaped couch, the other two on the floor. And there she was. Next to me, sitting back after she had gotten the movie—“The Shining”—set up on her TV.

It didn’t take long for me to forget about my discomfort and focus on the movie, which was good, and not so scary that I couldn’t watch. But then she grabbed my arm and pulled it around her, lying her body back against my chest, and I could smell how nice she smelled — she was obsessed with nice-smelling lotions and hair sprays. I tried not to let her feel the tension that she inspired in my …

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Creative | Posted by Jordan P on 12/4/2015

Are You Beach Body Ready?

“Beach body ready?”

The words claw at my brain

digging between the intricate folds of my unconscious

the instant I step onto the crowded subway.

My legs move to a seat as if they had brains of their own

because my eyes are transfixed on the neon yellow billboard ahead

I stare.


At the white woman’s sultry facial expression

her breasts protruding out of her yellow bikini

the frizzless blonde hair

size 20 waist

large hips

arched back

small nose

opened legs.


This woman doesn’t exist.

She is an object used to sell.

Exploited across Manhattan

telling women to try her weight loss powder

because just look how well it worked!

Isn’t it so nice of her to want to help womankind?


I know she is photo-shopped.…

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Creative | Posted by Poulami S on 11/27/2015


Little bits and pieces; memoirs of the future,

Box of broken laces; stitched up with a suture.

My soul’s meant to be sold,

As the story unfolds-

A sinner has no shame,

I’m the girl without a name.

No bones in my spine,

No morals entwined,

Your truth’s the biggest lie,

Broken wings never fly.

My soul’s meant to be sold,

As the story unfolds-

A sinner has no shame,

I’m the girl without a name.

I’m the girl who fits no locus,

Like a picture out of focus.

When “I” is purged with deceit,

Silence speaks with no conceit.

Yet, my soul’s meant to be sold

Let the story unfold;

I’m the sinner with no shame

I’m the girl without a name.

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Creative | Posted by Sabrina N on 09/25/2015

An Interview with Photographer Ashley Armitage

21-year-old Seattle-based photographer and filmmaker Ashley Armitage’s work is largely a tribute to female friendships and femininity. Her dreamy, nuanced photography lets viewers into the intimate, magical moments of girlhood. They depict beauty routines and sleepovers. They unabashedly celebrate and normalize body hair, tampons and bras. The collection is a celebration of girlhood by one of its own products. Its creation is an especially empowering and important act in a society that attempts to ascribe exactly what young girls should and shouldn’t be.

Armitage’s work is brave, beautiful, unapologetic and startlingly honest — much like Armitage herself. I sat down with her to discuss her vision, her future, and what it’s like to grow up.

So obviously, you love photography. When did you start getting into it, and why

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Creative | Posted by Caroline B on 08/20/2015


I begin peeling off a layer of the mask that once covered my wounds. Starting with the

rehearsal smile hung high on my face

Revealing anger, torment, loneliness, vulnerability

I had to ignore the brewing storm of

frustration in my head

Just as they said to


On moving on


On healing yourself

What about working on justice?

What about having control over my own body?

That didn’t matter. Not to them. Because

somehow they had come to the conclusion that rules could be broken

By the man who held me down by my neck and told me not to scream

By the boyfriend who never made her comfortable enough to say stop

Because somehow suffocating the cries of violated women is the best way to solve a problem…

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Creative | Posted by Hilary W on 05/29/2015

Love For A Season

Columbia Pictures via

My prom dress was too big to fit into the car. I worked my hands around the silky tulle of the rhinestone-studded gown and gathered the fabric into my lap. But as the car picked up speed down the hill, the boy in the driver’s seat took hold of the manual handle, cranking down the window. “Here,” he said. “You can let go.” He motioned to my hand, which was tightly grasping my dress. I let my fingers release the now-wrinkled fabric and watched it billow freely toward the window. My open palm followed the free pieces of silk and my arm glided out of the window as we picked up speed in the cool May evening. I was on my way to prom with a …

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