Against Pretty

Valerie Phillips points her camera at girls the way a friend might—close, unhurried, not waiting for anyone to be ready. Her book Don’t Be Pretty is named like a command and functions like one: the women in it are doing something other than performing for the lens. Chipped nail polish, flat light, stares that refuse to resolve into charm. It’s the kind of photography that makes most fashion work feel like an elaborate lie by comparison. You look at her pictures and feel like you’ve walked into someone’s bedroom without knocking, which is exactly the right feeling to have.