1. Feature proposal-Open
2. Female Designer?(architecture/jewelry/furniture/o
3. Celebrity Interview? (Maggie Gyllenhaal, Susie Bright, Catherine Keener, Angelina Jolie, others)-Feature Article-contemporary Specifically seeking those celebrities that have consistantly played women that are difficult and sexually bold or busted. Also those celebrities that have been painted in the press as a whore.
4. Political Issues?(cervical cancer research controversy/ Iranian Women's day March battery/ Foreign sex trade/ women's prisons/ New York's famous abortion mistress~with current highlights)Feature Article-Contemporary and Historical. looking for issues that speak of women's sexual identity in politics.
5. Anthropology ( menstruation rituals/ "Sugar Mommies-english women hiring young black men for sex/ african female friendships) Feature Article-Contemporary and Historical.
6. Reviews of women-(film makers/musicians/ writers/ playwrights)-Historical and contemporary.
1. Whoroscopes-astrology with a sexy twist
2. Down and dirty-How to section-(cars, house, electrical work, plumbing, website....
3.Ask an "It Girl"-needed-questions for advice and girls to give it.
4."whorriffic-the make up page that features historical "whore" make-up including how the make-up was used, what it did to the wearer and if you can get it and where now.*PHotos.
5. (this issue only) one page insert on women's advice about men.
6. This day in history-explanation of an historical event-focuses on how it affected women. Iran-Contra? what happened-how did it affect women-does anyone know?
Whore! Magazine is project under development. It is presently conceived to be a quaterly print publication slated to be launched in winter 2007.
Whore! Magazine will be dedicated to celebrating the current and historical qualities of women who have defined a role for themselves outside the status quo. Through the written word, art, design, fashion and music, Whore! Magazine will create a dialogue about what women are as opposed to what traditional society has dictated they should be. Whore! will also seek to explore issues largely untouched by mass media while reclaiming a derogatory word that has been used to censure those who would desire, express, and resist. By virtue of her freedom and right to choose, today’s woman would certainly have been branded a “whore” in past centuries. We intend to recognize those modern women who aspire to experience rather than "goodness" and continue to fight an age-old battle against expectation.
Dorothy Parker famously quipped, "You can lead a whore to culture but you can't make her think." We love Dorothy but we intend to prove that thinking is indeed what we do best.
My name is Ginger and I'm the editor of the magazine. We hope that this journal will be a place to explore and develop ideas that will shape the publication and its focus.
As the sun blazed outside I readied myself to attend the annual awards dinner for the entrepreneurial philanthropic foundation. Oooh what excitement! I was going as the date of my charming older male friend whose friendship I have cherished as he is wise, and very kind. And no, I have never slept with him. Other women might spend that last half hour working on their new sonata, or a painting rich in angst, that other woman might be harried with a host of other cares and so might wear a wrinkled skirt and a dab of lip gloss. Not I.
A whore knows the difference between public and private, she knows that the art of being is about presentation, she pays attention to the details of her person knowing that her job is to be what you need her to be. Coconut scented lotion is chosen for that island musky remembrance-not the cucumber as tonight she is not vying for the fresh and pretty award. A dab of darker red nail polish is applied to toes that haven't seen a pedicure in weeks as the shoes that go with my fantastic drapy crepe dress are open toed. A moment of doubt as I realize that the event is corporate and I could opt for the wool dress and sling back heels with a bow on the toe. But the job of a whore is to wow not to mix in and so glorious shoulders revealed, long earrings hooked, and wild hair spritzed with just a hint of vanilla, Miss Ginger is ready to leave the city and go mingle with the rich and drab.
The Santa Clara Country Club is our party destination. a monstrosity of manicured lawns and beige arches that sits nestled amongst the headquarters of the most powerful venture capitalists in Silicon Valley. These people have valet parking in a parking lot. And as everyone knows a true whore never comes from money and so such things as country clubs often exist in the realm of fantasy and I am disappointed that the hall looks like a church, a protestant church and there are no tables fresh with white linen, no candles burning bright and to my horror-no trophy wives. I do like to consider myself an attractive and stylish woman but at thirty two with crooked teeth and hands scarred from years behind the bar, I am no blushing stunner. So imagine my dismay as I realize that compared to the tight poodled, suit jacketed corporate chicks I am a raving beauty brash enough to make all the men scared to look my way. I can feel them eying me from behind though. Whores have highly tuned animal instincts and excellent peripheral vision-the peculiar talents of predatory prey.
So there I am, wine glass in hand, standing with my friend who is Indian and at this point in his wise existence is sporting rather long hair that has a habit of releasing a strand down his face. The effect is oddly exotic. We make quite a pair. I can almost hear the whispers. These people so hungry, grasping at business cards don't know that this man and I are indeed friends. That we forged our connection through long talks about spiritual matters, the ways of the world and finer points of being human. They don't know, they couldn't know as their world is one of bartering and trading everything they are for power, prestige and profit, that we actually deeply respect one another. It matters not, I am is whore and that is what they will see and so be it. It is the world that makes a whore, not the other way around and I begin to feel myself changing under their gaze. Wide-hips undulate beneath my dress, my lips curve provocatively with a sneer. No longer am I earnest, anxious little me but instead I am wild, a sex pot, the girl who smokes and barely hides her tattoos under sheer brown. I suddenly want to blurt out the story of going to buy heroin for a friend who was having heart palpitations due to a late-night coke binge. I want to start singing "Love for sale", I want to lick the ear of the older Scottish gentleman to my right who keeps checking out my ass.
But I don't. I am after all here in hopes that I might at least mention the magazine. And I do to the woman I am introduced to who is one of the organizers of the event. She spits as she talks to me and I feel a kindness for her that our bodies are at times betray us. this woman immediately earns my compassion but she is frightened of me and her eyes begin to dart around like a nervous horse ready to bolt. But it is the woman next to her, an uptight powdered journalist for the Mercury news. She asks me the name of the magazine and I try to warn her. I say it is about women-my magazine and I insist that she doesn't want to know what the name is. But she persist and when I say "whore!" she recoils as if I slapped her. "Well, I will thank you not to feature me in your magazine" she spits and then turns away. I have been officially snubbed. Her husband gamely asks what the magazine is about. "History" I say and in attempt to reclaim my dignity I add that "She couldn't be featured anyway because those women who are-are dead. Whew! I really showed her, I tell ya, I am so slick with this snub me I'll snub you crap.
Out for a cigarette I go to calm my nerves and remind myself that in most situations I am rather charming. But that is the beauty of being thirty-two and well-heeled-experience wise-I know what I am about. I know that that there are certain shades of limelight that can just wreck a girl's complexion. So I take a deep breath and head back inside armed with knowledge that I will never see any of these people again.
And so the moral of this story is that you and not the hoards of corporate warriors are who I dedicate the magazine to. To you, all the lost, seeking, being people who spend their lives trying to be alive in every way possible. A boring couple of speeches later, my friend and I emerged from that stifling hell and headed out to dinner. May the whores reign!
We are a print culture magazine that focuses on the darker side of history and all those mad, flawed, brilliant woman who are currently doing everything they can to push past our bounderies. We are interested in questions—not agendas, in investigations—not platitudes, in debates—not pre-conceptions.We are currently putting together our first issue and would like to know what people think about the idea and the name of the magazine.