Listen, I’m not Byron Lars’ target customer by a long shot. I am aware of that.
Nonetheless, I carrrrrrrrrre. I care about what he's doing in that campaign. I care on two counts:
J’adore le fashion...
...and I have a lot of compassion for my fellow fashion-lovers, in all their diversity. I guess I’ve got sympathy for those who might feel hurt by it. I know how it feels to be in a place that feels delightful/safe/familiar only to get blindsided by a casually-offered blast of ignorance.
Someone else who knows how it feels? Byron Lars, I imagine. He’s African-American. (I only know this by report and phenotype. I haven’t met the man. He hasn’t told me himself how he identifies.) There’s no way he hasn’t felt that slap in the face before.
When that slap happens in a place you love so much, you’re going to turn the other cheek and say, “More, please.”
But that don’t make it right.
I’m coming from love, here.
(For your information, yes, I knew he was African American...At least, I knew before I put that piece on my blog. The difference between the tone of my first draft, before I did further research, and the draft that I published is a story unto itself, really. The fact of the revision. The content of it...)
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