ByWill Wharton, writer at
Creative Director
Will Wharton

makes me yearn for days gone by. Days when you had to search through your neighbor's grabage just to get a glimpse of his discarded nudie mags that might inside contain that rarerest and most wonderful of items: sexiness. I'm just kidding I never did that, I'm like 14 years old, I was born online. Seriously, my parents ordered me from the long since closed down EBAY-B website that delivered children right to your door. Of course this was in the early days of the internet when you could post anything online. The first time I saw my parents naked was online.

Cindy Crawford comes from that elusive breed of supermodels that you only managed to catch with the subtlest hint of skin out. A flighty vixen, women like her and Naomi Campbell essentially created my childhood of older women-chasing creepiness. She was, in a word: Class. Pure class, you had to work to see any single part of Cindy Crawford's body. She kept it all locked up tighter than Fort Knox, and it was this air of sexuality, this hint of femininity, the idea of less is much more that kept me awake at night.

It's really encouraging to see that nothing has changed:


Latest from our Creators