CORE
Editor’s Letter Welcome to the very first edition of Core, an independent magazine celebrating everything that is at the core of women. We wanted to create a magazine that celebrated women whilst making fun of the clichés and stereotypes that have been associated with them for far too long. We chose to take a light hearted look at what it takes to be a woman in the 21st century, playing with over-done tropes and bringing some hoy and humour into the life of all women. We appreciate women in a way that isn’t superficial and looks-dependant. Instead, we find the power and the courage that’s at the heart of us all; creativity, beauty, strength and joy are at the very core of our values and we want to bring a sense of humour and playfulness into everyday life. Core was created to fill the void that all those other women’s magazines were leaving empty; to embrace the weird and the wonderful, the old and the young, and all of those who aren’t always shown in the mainstream media. Each issue will focus on a different set of core values that we believe every woman possesses. With everything from friendship and independence to hurt, heartache and hope, each of our issues will get down to the heart and explore everything that it takes to thrive and survive as a woman. Our first issue focuses on some of our favourite values; youth, anger, creativity and oppression. We know that we have a lot to be pissed off about, but we also know that there’s still pleasure to be found in our day to day lives. We also delve into the differences between love and lust, make fun of those clichéd objects we’re associated with, and look at the true beauty that can be found in our insecurities. We poke fun at the normalised versions of strength and the notion that women cannot be strong and feminine. Core is here to bridge the gap between the dream-like and the real world, and do it all with whimsy, humour and intelligence. Together we will navigate exactly what it means to be a woman in the modern world; and there is nothing we love more than an independent woman. Core is for all of you who are tired of seeing the same women’s magazines, the same fashion and beauty, the same set of ideal standards. Instead, we’re here to celebrate the weirdos and the feminists, the strong and the independent. For the bold and the brave, the introverts and the extroverts, for those who know exactly who you are and those who still have no idea. Core is here for you all. But most of all, it’s for those who are proud of what it takes to be a woman. We love you all. Faith Richardson Editor
Food Porn How are you finding fruit sexy? Women are often looked at in a sexualised way - and then shamed for it. But why is it our fault that someone thinks of sex when they look at us, when they can’t even look at a banana without thinking of the goods? It’s time to get graphic.
MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT MILKING IT
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ex and the Patriarchy
Has women’s sexual liberation opened an unhealthy gateway where they are now considered constantly available?
Women have come a long way since they were
considered a man’s property. Women are now free to express their sexuality and can openly discuss sex, sexuality and their personal preferences without retribution. However, this open dialogue has come with a new myriad of problems. As women have become sexually free, it appears that the patriarchy also realigned itself with this new wave of liberation, assuming that a woman’s sexual freedom translated into a constant sexual availability that they, as men, are entitled to. Whilst women’s enjoyment and openness about sex has been destigmatised, it has also shifted into a realm where the patriarchal view is now that women enjoy sex, so therefore they must immediately want to have sex with anyone and everyone. When writing an article for The Times, David Quinn (ironically during a rant about the #metoo movement) actually hit the nail on the head “The only sexual rule today is ‘consent’, and men have been taught that women are potentially always sexually available because that is what ‘liberation’ means.” Consent has, rightfully, become a hot topic of 2018, with the overwhelming success of #metoo. Women united in a stance against sexual assault, and created a dialogue which made it clear that women will not be silenced any longer. Naturally, those stuck in an older patriarchal mindset countered this with the cry of “not all men!”, which became the chorus line whenever an article or report was published sharing statistic about assaults on women. Women shared experiences about their constant sense of danger; from walking home alone, to being alone on a train carriage with a man, to being on a night out with friends, women are highlighting the constant sense of fear they feel when alone with a strange man. Whilst these stories were being shared, men, inevitably,
retorted with “not all men want to attack you”, or “not all men are dangerous”. Women acknowledge that not all men are a threat, however statistics from the Crime Survey for England and Wales, ONS show that the sense of foreboding felt by women as they walk home alone at night is justified; with one in 5 women experiencing a sexual assault after the age of 16, and 510,000 women reporting sexual assaults in 2017 alone, it is clear that it is not an uncommon crime. What has been wonderful about 2018 is not only the light that has been shed on this heinous act, but also the strength and power behind the women making it a topic that needs to be discussed. No longer will they be silenced or made to feel shame for what has happened to them, but instead they have stood up, faced their attacker(s) and reclaimed their bodies. It seems to be forgotten all too often that a women’s body is not a commodity, or something that men are entitled to. Whilst sexual liberation has had many benefits for women everywhere, it has come with its flaws too, enhancing the way patriarchal men perceive women as available to them at all times. What it will take to relieve women from this new-found stigma is an army, an army which seems to be in the throes of its uprising. #Metoo has united women in a way that few things before it have done. Bonding over shared empathy and experiences has created a movement that shows no signs of stopping, and, frankly, we hope it doesn’t.
With tongues Getting intimate with the most seductive part of our bodies. Lick, suck and get your teeth stuck in to this juicy segment.
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I AM FUCKING GLORIOUS
“Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say, It’s in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman,That’s me.” - Maya Angelou
E H T T AS A H W CK H T FU T GO O I D ? TO YOU H T I W
Young Blood
A Letter to my Younger Self Dear 17-year-old me, There’s many things about your teenage years that you won’t enjoy. You experience your first dealing with loss when your grandad is taken from you. You don’t get a chance to say goodbye, you don’t even know it’s happening. Your parents were trying to protect you by not telling you, but you carry resentment for a long time. Try not to. Let go of the anger at never saying goodbye and of the shame you feel that you didn’t spend more time talking and laughing with him in hospital. To this day one of your biggest regrets is that he died before you had a chance to bond with him as an adult the way you did with your other grandparents. Remember how much he loved you as a child, or as a stroppy teenager. Remember you’re making him proud – after all, it’s his genes that gave you the photography bug and helped you get to where you are now. This first death puts you on a dark path. It becomes your first experience of depression. You sit in doctor’s offices explaining how tired and numb you feel. Your parents sit down on your bed while you cry because you don’t understand why everything feels pointless. It’s dark, and scary and unnerving. But you get through it. Talking about it, normalising it, learning to understand it makes the darkness clear. It’s one of the first times you’ve ever really talked about your feelings in a healthy way. It brings you and your parents closer together. Remember that feeling. Remember that talking really does help, no matter how ashamed or lost you feel. Even if you don’t know what you’re feeling, talk to your parents and to your friends. This still happens today, but you’re surrounded by people who want the best for you. Your relationship with your parents, especially mum, can be tenuous. You have good days and bad days together. Eventually, at some point, you become best friends though. Her and dad both support you through the toughest times you have yet to go through. And you do have some incredibly hard times coming. You lose two more people this year. You struggle through an abusive relationship in your early 20s, followed months later by the death of two more grandparents. However; remember to talk. Talk and talk and talk. Tell people. Nothing you’re going through should be cause for embarrassment or self-pity, although you will feel all of this. It won’t all be bad, though. You make incredible memories. You learn to break away from people who don’t want the best for you. You once used to be consumed by drama and people who fight and argue, but you realise this makes you miserable. Your friends slowly fall away. But what you’re left with are some of the best friends anyone could want. They are an extended family. You learn how to be independent. You realise that you love being alone and the joy and release that comes with discovering exactly who you are. One of the most important lessons that you end up learning, that I wish you knew back then, is: “Nothing is permanent. Nothing is forever if you don’t want it to be.” Listen to your head, because your instincts are strong. These instincts inevitably protect you from harm of all kinds. People will hurt you and they will harm you in ways that leave lasting damage. But this is life and that harm ultimately makes you bigger and better than ever before. Embrace it. It turns you into someone you will always be proud of. I love you always, 25-year old me.
“My mom said to me, ‘You know, sweetheart, you should settle down and marry a rich man,’” “I said, ‘Mom, I am a rich man.’” - Cher
I’ve Got the Power Illustration
Strong
What a terrible clichĂŠ That physical strength makes me strong That muscle and sinew Were the secret all along But to build up your strength You must find it within To keep pushing and working And stop caring about being thin Losing was the motivation But somehow I began to gain Finding love and fight and power Was better than being vain Being your own competition Learning to push through Fighting your demons Finding strength within you Now I am happy Not because of how I look Not because I am fit But because of the fight it took I am strong I can fight I fought the demons And made it through the night When you think of strength You see a body defined But deep down that strength Is found within your mind
Weak There’s irony in it taking Strength to admit to feeling weak That you need to find power To confess that your world is bleak Drifting through your day In a trance like state Going through the motions Without controlling your fate The darkness is following Drifting into your mind It wraps itself around your limbs An unbreakable bind But once you’ve found the courage To admit you’ve lost control A light comes on behind your eyes To stop its deathly toll When you’re weak it’s hard to think You’ll ever be strong again But bit by bit the shadows lift A clear equilibrium There’s nothing darker than your mind When shadows fill a void Fear and sadness take a hold Making you paranoid But one day soon the light comes in A breath of air sweeps through Where once was darkness now there lives A golden, rosy hue Your shoulders lift Your head will rise Your strength will shine from every inch And glow behind your eyes
“At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.” - Frida Kahlo
Suffocating
The Sound of Fear Fear is one of those things that sounds different to everyone. Maybe it’s the sound of your daughter screaming, or the slamming of the door when your husband comes home. The door banging shut. Banging. Banging. Waiting to hear what his voice sounds like. The anger or the silence. The cold, cold silence. Maybe it’s the rhythmic beating of an ECG measuring a loved one’s heart beating from the hospital bed. Beating so slowly. Steady. Steady. Maybe it’s the sound of it stopping. Stopping. Stopped. Maybe it’s something as simple as your own heartbeat and your blood pumping angrily through your veins. Hearing the pace quicken as whatever it is you’re afraid of draws closer. It can be the sound of your name being called to stand up and make a speech. Listening to your own voice waver as you try to give it. Wavering. Choking. Nothing coming out. Perhaps it’s the sound of your parents as they argue. Their voices getting louder. Louder. Louder. As you try to block it out and you hide under the covers and pray that they make up. What if they don’t make up? Their screaming and shouting. Shouting. So much shouting.
What if your fear sounds like the creak of your bones as you get out of bed? The creaking you feel vibrating around your body. Creaking. Aching. The breath that escapes you when your body is on fire. The sickness taking hold. Feeling the pain. Trying to breathe deeply. Steadily. Breathing hard. Gasping. Gasping. Is it the deafening chatter of thousands of people around you, pressing in on all sides, oblivious to your panic? Crashing into your ear drums from all sides. Rising and crashing, rising and crashing, pummelling you like waves on the shore. The crashing never stops. Hearing them talk about their dinner and their kids and their new car whilst you’re silently screaming for it to stop. Stop. Please let it stop. Are you drowning? Maybe it’s when it’s stopped. Maybe the silence is the most terrifying sound of all. When you’re alone in your house at night. The silence is deafening. The nothingness all consuming. When you’re underwater and now you know that you’re drowning. When you’re slipping slowly away. Once it’s all gone, and the silence is infinite, maybe nothing is what fear sounds like. Nothing. Nothing.
Once the silence has taken over, it’s hard to fight back. The quiet never ends. When will it end? Will it end? But the silence is afraid too. Of the joy that comes from sound. The sound of your family gathered round. Laughing and talking. Laughing and talking. Hearing their voices permeate your silence. Talking to you so quietly. Softly. Softly. Whispers of comfort, seeping into your fear. Your silence begins to crackle, like the static on a distant radio. Quiet at first. So quiet. The crackling grows, ebbing and flowing, building in volume. Volume is the key. Turn up the volume. Higher and higher. Louder and louder. Volume is your salvation. It’s the source of all your joy. Begin to let the noise in. Let it creep into your ears, warming your soul and lighting your fire. Light it. Light it. The fire crackles and warms. The noise of the warmth is all around you. The crackling becomes voices. Talking, talking. Chattering quietly in your ear. Telling you to let it in. Let the noise in. Let it wash over you like waves. The waves that once crashed against you. Now they lap gently. Gently. Gently. They wash over your toes, their courage growing. Your courage growing. Learning to embrace their gentle caress. Dip a toe. Trust their rolling fearlessness.
Wade into the shallows and be swallowed by the joy. The pleasure. The comfort. Embrace it. The noise begins to roar again. The roaring is welcomed. Suddenly the volume has been turned back up. It is full. It is powerful. It welcomes you like an old friend. Welcome it. Welcome. The deafening chatter becomes a comforting cacophony. Rising like the crescendo of a beautiful opera. Rising. Rising. Listen to the music carrying you away. It lifts you. Float with it. Keep floating. Floating above the silence. The silence falls behind you. Falling away. Back into the darkness. You live in the light. Live in the music. The rhythm of the beat. The beat of your heart. Beating. Beating. Steady.
“But I will not be ignored. The soul that lives inside this body will not be ignored. I am here to stay.� - RuPaul Charles
What You Saying?
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“We can be heroes” - David Bowie
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