We may have finely tuned our manipulation of the images we put out of ourselves in the current over-exploiting era, but one thing is for sure: the dirty hands of the 80s are the same ones we have today. I prefer it out in the open. Shamelessly, I like the aesthetic of the sexist, hedonist, mostly uncouth ways when magazines like these had real journalism and fake consent. But take us back to Ibiza, when self-promotion wasn’t your entry to a club, your tan lines were. Not lost to that being the same thing. Back when the Marlboro man was hot, smoking was hot, days were hot, and publishing was on fire. Show us The Most Beautiful Girls In Ibiza, and we will call it third-wave feminism.