Dirty Pretty Things

News of high-street chain H&M’s eminent arrival in Amman’s sparkling new Taj Mall was initially exhilarating. Having recently perused their The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo dystopian fashion distillation, I was already picturing myself swaggering in the collection’s oxblood-hued motocross jacket. Another purveyor of the accessible dolce vita was coming to Jordan – life was about to get that much better. Flashy, fashionable fun even I, as a struggling writer, could afford. Then fate trampled my frivolous bliss, as usual. The most recent episode of Vice magazine’s “Fashion Week Internationale” series just so happened to be a searing exposé on the Cambodian fashion week and garment industry, in particular – you guessed it – a factory that produces clothes for H&M.

 

I had seen the plight of garment factory workers in the media for quite some time, but this was by far the most unsettling account I’d so far encountered. The series’ host Charlet Duboc followed baby-faced young girls (most of whom lie about their age to enter the workforce far earlier than the legal limit of 18) and witnessed horror stories of Machiavellian work conditions and brutal police crackdowns on any ensuing protests for the improvement of factory conditions. This is the “dark heart” of fashion we rarely glimpse beyond fashion week fan fare and glamorous editorials – it’s a side the industry leaders keep hidden better than chubby models for good reason. Duboc lamented: “When I think of that girl standing in there working the machines, or whatever it is that goes on behind those gates, in her ‘Berlin Fashion Week’ jumper without even knowing what a fashion week is… and then I think of all the high fashion designers collecting their praise, champagne and flowers for their latest collection, it doesn’t add up!” The real behind-the-scenes world of fashion is as unflattering as acid-wash maternity jeggings.

 

My H&M shopping spree vision was irrevocably crushed. I could not unsee what I had just seen. And as it turns out, the lives of the factory workers portrayed in the Vice piece are a saccharine fairytale compared to many sweatshop stories. So if you’re the squeamish type who wants to happily snap up as many pretty ‘fast fashion’ finds her paycheck can withstand, it’s not too late to turn back. Take the blue pill. If, however, you’re the casually conscientious or curious type, be warned. We’re about to enter the fashion version of Apocalypse Now.

 

With massive global retailers getting routinely busted for their factory worker human rights violations, the issue has gotten more bad press than the Kim Kardashian investment venture/mega-wedding. Luckily, hoards of accoladed economist are rushing in to defend the beleaguered practice. Garment industry apologists like Pulitzer Prize winner and New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof claim this is all part of the natural progression of developing nations. In an article titled “Two Cheers for Sweatshops” (I am not even kidding you) he concedes that there are problems like “managers [who are] brutal in the way they house workers in firetraps, expose children to dangerous chemicals, deny bathroom breaks, demand sexual favors, force people to work double shifts or dismiss anyone who tries to organize a union.” Yet he brazenly proclaims: “The simplest way to help the poorest Asians would be to buy more from sweatshops, not less.” Perhaps there should be a Pulitzer Prize category for Unmitigated Asshole Reporting.

Continue reading here.

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Naked Ambition

While female fashion and feminism started out hand in hand to push women’s rights forward, modern fashion and style seem to show the two off as polar opposites. As Jordan pushes forward for women’s rights and away from their objectification, the local ladies need to know what’s really behind what their flaunting and how to use their image in a way that send off the right respect-demanding signals. Star Allen tells you all about it, right here!

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Thank Heaven For Little Girls: Global Gendercide

Image courtesy Thefrisky.com

Fast Company magazine just came out with a mock ad campaign to address the international practice of male offspring preference. “Targeting” prospective parents to pop out a bouncing pink bundle of joy with the same slick graphic coercion used to push that new Starbuck’s Frappacino made me nauseous. Introducing the all-new iGirl (cue creepy Apple presentation score)! However, given the global prominence of the archaic practice of selective birth (almost exclusively used to bear a man child) perhaps public service announcements are well in order. A NY Times article by Sharon LaFraniere reports that the cultural bias for boys has left China with a whopping gender gap of 32 million.

Boy-favoring barbarism is assumed to be an eastern phenomenon – where cultures view girls as an economic burden and boys an asset. Monica Das Gupta explains in Explaining Asia’s Missing Women: A New Look at the Data:

“A son is often preferred as an “asset” since he can earn and support the family; a daughter is a “liability” since she will be married off to another family, and so will not contribute financially to her parents. The patriarchal structure of a society is the single most important factor skewing the sex ratio in favor of males, accentuated in some cultures by the burden of raising a dowry for a daughter’s marriage. Openness to the very concept of sex selection is a significant factor: among societies which practice selective female abortion nowadays, many were systematically practicing female infanticide (either directly or by withholding postnatal care from children of undesirable sex) long before abortion became a viable option.”

It may be more popular in the Orient, but I’ve got news for you folks, gender biased births and all that concept entails is a global problem and the same attitudes can be found in allegedly egalitarian societies. Though there is a well-documented preference for adopting baby girls in the US (not even going to touch on the likelihood of this being a desire to preserve patriarchal liniage), studies confirm that there is still a clear preference for XY over XX. A Gallup Poll conducted since 1941 shows a preference for sons for a hypothetical only child.  Also, “The Demand for Sons” study claimed that parents of girls were more likely to divorce than parents of boys. The study has been widely questioned (read: it’s a load of bull) and has been controverted by studies indicating that the happiest families are those with daughters – not sons. Regardless of gross inaccuracy, “The Demand for Sons” still underscores the widely held opinion that a family with boys is a fruitful home.

Tool Time: What Not To Wear ME Men’s Edition

Fashion isn’t something that a lot of guys know about. But something odd happens to men all over the world who try to “get it right” without consulting anyone outside the family. We become charity cases, pawns desperately needed advice without even knowing it; so we keep up the styles we think are cool by wearing them, bonding with our fellow clueless friends, and repelling chicks. The Fashionist Star Allen gives us all the heads up and 101 to making the most out of getting dressed.

Brace yourself gentlemen, I’m an estrogen card-carrying woman – shit’s about to get real. Amman is home to the worst male fashion war crimes on the planet. It’s like my eyeballs get singed every time I leave the house. Most dudes are victims of their lovely ladies’ misguided “makeover” attempts. Or conversely, are trying to convey something about themselves to onlookers – i.e. peacocking to attract attention. If you fall into the third nefarious category: “Mom still picks out my clothes”, close this page, Google Norman Bates, and refer directly to the help hotline for serial killers. Sorry guys, I know I’m being harsh here, but most of you are failing on the fashion scorecard with a big fat F for females fleeing fast.

Read the rest here!

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Exposed: Unveiling the Burqa Battle

In my daily news scan, I found yet another report of a woman wearing niqab (the Islamic face veil) who was violently attacked in Paris. And it pissed me the hell off. For starters, I truly yearn for the day when what women wear is not front and center of controversy and strife — much less, front-page news material. We now make up half of the American work force – a historical precedent for the ages. Yet as far as we have come — the feminine physique and how we chose to dress or undress it — attracts ridiculously fervent scrutiny. One of the main premises of feminism is: our body, our choice — and when I come across tripe like this, I feel like we’ve backtracked miles since Roe v Wade.

Let me clarify: I do not personally agree with the niqab. According to a majority of Muslim scholars it’s not necessary to comply with proper Islamic dress. Sheikh Muhammad Sayyid Tantawy, previous dean of Cairo’s Al-Azhar University says, “The niqab is a cultural tradition and has nothing to do with Islam.” Though there is still much heated debate on the subject, general consensus holds that it arose primarily from areligious cultural traditions that can also be traced to non-Muslim cultures such as the Byzantine Empire. The early third-century Christian writer Tertullian clearly refers in his treatise The Veiling of Virgins to some pagan women of “Arabia” wearing a veil that covers not only their head but also the entire face. In short, the veil was chic around these parts regardless of religious preference. Though a multitude of references to veiling both women’s hair and face can be found in the Quran and Hadith, I would argue it seems to be a pre-existing social custom that was favored by Islam, not its invention. A cursory glance at the concept of Awrah also holds that a woman’s face and hands can be shown to anyone, anytime.

Religious theory aside, the main reason niqab irks me is that I do not believe anyone has the right to anonymity, point blank. I believe that if you live in a society (as opposed to a wolf pack), your identity, your face and its expressions are fair game for viewing. The concept of “you can see me, but I can’t see you” creates a natural upset in equality. It sets people apart in what is already a stridently divisive world. Not that I’m recommending we all don identical communist uniforms or that unusual appearance is justification for ostracizing people. However, in an era where meaningful human connection and dialogue is so sparse, we don’t need any more barriers. How can we talk if I can’t see your face? I find it thoroughly obnoxious to converse with someone wearing sunglasses. It would seem intolerably awkward to chat with a faceless black mass.

The Child That’s Got His Own

Image courtesy ABC News

If there is one thing troubling the global collective consciousness these days it’s money, with a capital M. The economy, healthcare, the recession, paying bills, Occupy Wall Street, debt. Even for a person (like moi) who prides themselves on paying little notice to Capitalist pursuits like consumerism and monetary success, it’s impossible to ignore. This morning – a rare rainy weekend in Amman is the perfect excuse to hibernate with a good book – Billie Holiday’s “God Bless the Child” came on while I was in just diving into Jim Marrs’ Rule by Secrecy. Irrefutable kismet, and a clear sign it was time for me to descend my ivory tower and give the issue it’s due attention.

When I moved from the third most affluent city in the US (Sarasota, FL) to Amman, the first thing that struck me was abject poverty. Not merely the visual and emotional shock – but how economic inequity creates strife in every single aspect of life. From the barrage of child beggars pounding your car windows, grimy and tear-faced at every red light, to the bemusing aesthetic of a family of three atop a rickety old donkey alongside a family of three in a shinny new Porsche SUV – the haves and have nots are miles apart in Jordan. With a gross national income of $3,740 per capita, it’s shocking that UNICEF lists the Jordanian population living below the international poverty line (US $1.25 per day) at less than 2%. As familiar as I have become with squalor, it seems much of the world has it even worse.

One Night With Rachael Starr

What happens when the top female DJ in the US ventures to Amman for one wild Halloween weekend?

MY SECRET JORDAN 1st EVENT – OCTOBER 28TH – AMMAN JORDAN

Winding through Switch 51’s labyrinth back entrance to the hazy smoke filled interior into a bizarrely costumed orgy (no not a real orgy, don’t get your knickers in a twist) writhing to the deafening din of DJ Flava, Rachael Starr slipped her petite porcelain hand into mine as we made our way to the DJ’s booth. My heart leapt, I was holding the Rachael Starr’s hand. But before I ruminated on something to write home about, the weight of my responsibility hit. On arrival, a throng of over 250 fans outside was ready to beat down the gates to the club just to glimpse the scene. Inside was hardly friendlier.

 Read more here.

All in the Family

Traditions of Marriage in the Middle East

Kissing cousins, where I come from are the gold standard of redneck incest jokes. In my current country of residence – Jordan – they’re a common reality that has prompted me to shove my foot in my mouth countless times. To the western mind, sex with a blood relative is at best a quaint relic from the days of Scarlett O’Hara. At worst, it’s a nauseating perversion that makes most of us want to gouge our mind’s eye out before the mental image can be formed. And I don’t even have any male cousins. But for many parts of the world – particularly the MENA region – it’s time-honored fact of life (and not just for those squirrely royals).

Cultural sensitivity aside, it makes me squirm. When I first moved here, I had many an unpleasant incident where someone I was conversing with was in fact married to their first cousin, and I made a prize ass out of myself by laughing at what turned out not to be a hillbilly joke (not even once). Nevertheless, it still seems archaic and makes me want to enquire if these cousins/spouses are aware that the earth is indeed round, that it’s the year 2011, that we have this thing called the internet now… running water… indoor plumbing…? Harsh I know, but the concept of an aunt cum mother-in-law (not to mention inbreed offspring) makes the mind reel. My inability to accept the practice underscores a crucial crossroads where east meets west.

Dare to Bare

What to wear when living in the Middle East presents women with a constant conundrum. MySecretJordan’s The Fashionist sheds light on the perplexing matter.

This fall’s arresting bondage trend was impossible to overlook. From the irrefutably fetish-inspired garb seen at the likes of Emanuel Ungaro and Giles to the more subtly-kinky cocktail dresses at Hervé Léger – the message was all too apparent – to be fashionable this season means lacing up leather corsets, strapping on boots and padlocking metal chocker collars. Even the perennially erudite aesthetic of Marc Jacobs took on a decidedly naughty flair via buttoned-up librarian frocks paired with patent dominatrix boots and biker caps. Heralded by fashion editors as bold and refreshing, the overtly sexual tendance has decidedly different connotations for those of us residing in the Middle East.

 For the rest, click here.

Hibster Stylin’

Check out MySecretJordan.com for the feild guide to Ammani Hibsters

You might be a hipster if… Similar to the redneck meme of Jeff Foxworthy fame, there is an ever-expanding list of hilarity that certifies one as an elite “assassin of cool”, as Christian Lorentzen of Time Out New York has dubbed the denizens of the phenomenon.

The term first arose in the 40′s to describe middle-class whites acting like black musicians, now referred to as “nerdcore”. Loretzen defines their ethos as “the form of not-quite-passive aggression called snark” – but don’t be lulled into a false sense of certainty. Hipsters are an elusive bunch. According to a Huffington Post article entitled “Who’s a Hipster?” the “whole point is that they avoid labels and being labeled.” If you are reading this, snarkily assuming that you qualify – think again – especially if you live in the dank urban trenches of Amman.

For the rest click here.