Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.
SuicideGirls… became famous for embracing beauty in every shape and form — meaning bodies covered in tattoos, having bright-colored hair, and being outside of traditional beauty norms were celebrated. The name comes from the idea that women who commit “social suicide” by being different come together.
A nation wide art-sleaze phenomenon.
It’s like a punk rock Vogue…with artful nude photos of women.
Fifteen years ago, a small-but-passionate community that celebrated beauty in alternative, pinup-style photography was born. It was called SuicideGirls.
They’re the girls next door - but more colorful and with better record collections.
SuicideGirls respond… in the best way possible.
The meeting place for people interested in alternative lifestyles.
SuicideGirls is as much about community as it is about naked photos of tattooed women.
SuicideGirls is redefining concepts of beauty across the globe.