Not so merry Terry

A few months ago, a Facebook message got tossed out into the world. “If you fuck me, I’ll book you a shoot in Vogue USA.” The sender? Terry Richardson. Well in any case someone with a Facebook account under that name.

the world on fire

I think it took all of three minutes before fashion-land was abuzz. The famous photographer, who isn’t apposed to a bit of porno on the left and a touch of sensuality on the right, in the middle of the storm. Shame! Said one. Time that it all came out, said another. Even I dipped my pen in the poison ink. The door was ajar for men like Terry.

Rectification please

Not too long ago, I bumped into a New York Times. Terry’s portrait on the cover. Then you know; he must have collaborated on the story. I felt ashamed by the third sentence. Broken by public bullying. How easily social media can chop a man like this, with a thirty year career, into bits.

What b*llshit

“I don’t even have a Facebook account. And I haven’t worked for Vogue for four years.” a beaten Terry commented at his studio. “What f*cking b*llshit this is.” After the degrading Facebook message and the screenshot on Twitter, the journalist boys took over.

Terry in the corner

Oh, oh, oh how fickle they are. All of Terry’s clients, previous clients or potential clients. Louis Vuitton, H&M, all politely cancelled on him. Not too long and the entire list had been worked through. “Would you continue working with him, what if the allegations are true?” “Of course not!” said all the brands. Scared of seeming politically incorrect. Today the talk of the day. So what if Terry ends up in a corner tomorrow. They couldn’t care less.

Greasing the palms of Vogue USA

I too was sucked into the maelstrom of people-with-an-opinion. Disgusting man, this Terry. Time for these people to get caught. But I also noticed that the old phenomenon called a fair-hearing had been totally vanquished in this social media era. That can cost a career. Now let’s be fair. Aside from the fact that I find Terry an unattractive little man, photographers of his stature (that earn a sloppy $160.000 per day), are always guaranteed of a bit of flighty model fancy. He doesn’t need a dirty and dangerous Facebook message or to grease the palms of a magazine whom he doesn’t even work for anymore, not at all.

I needed to write this article for my own inner peace. I’ll say it loud and clear. Terry for president.

Amen.