Speech by Derek Zoolander: “Breaking Free from the Fashion Cult”
Presented at the Annual Center for Model Awareness Conference
Ladies and gentlemen, beautiful people, and really, really, ridiculously good-looking friends,
Thank you for gathering here today. I know it’s hard to pull yourself away from a mirror, but what I’m about to share is more important than Blue Steel, Magnum, or even Le Tigre. It’s about freedom—freedom from something so sinister, so deeply embedded in the fashion world, that it took me years to see it.
I’m talking about MK Ultra for models. Yeah, you heard me. It’s not just a conspiracy theory. It’s real. And I was a victim.
For years, I thought I was just walking runways, posing for pictures, and pouting my lips in ways that changed lives. But behind the glitter and the glamour, there was something darker—something that turned me, Derek Zoolander, into a pawn. They called it “training,” but it was brainwashing. They said, “Wear this,” “Do that,” “Turn left.” But what they really meant was, “Don’t think.”
I was trapped in a cult of beauty, where individuality was crushed under the weight of designer labels. They didn’t want Derek Zoolander, the person—they wanted Derek Zoolander, the mannequin.
But then came Joe. Joe, the cult deprogrammer. A guy with no fashion sense but a heart as big as my modeling portfolio. He didn’t see me as a pretty face; he saw me as a human being—a human being who needed saving.
Joe showed me the truth. He helped me realize that my brain isn’t just for holding up my hair. It’s for thinking, for questioning, for saying, “No, I will not wear that sequined jumpsuit that looks like a bedazzled trash bag!”
Through his help, I broke free. I learned that I’m more than my looks, more than my poses, more than my inability to turn left. I’m Derek Zoolander, a man with feelings, dreams, and a newfound love for thinking outside the catwalk.
To all the models out there still trapped in the system, I say this: You are more than a face. You are more than a body. You are a person, and you deserve to be free. Don’t let them use you. Don’t let them tell you who to be.
And to the fashion world, I say: Your reign of mind control is over. We’re taking back our freedom, our individuality, and yes, our ability to turn left if we so choose.
So let’s walk together—not on a runway, but on the path to freedom. Let’s show the world that we’re not just models. We’re role models.
Thank you. And remember: Being ridiculously good-looking is great, but being free is even better.
Speech by Mugatu: “True Religion, True Style”
Delivered at the Derelicte Fashion Gala
Ladies, gentlemen, and fashion-forward visionaries,
Welcome to the future of style, the apex of aesthetic, the holy grail of haute couture! Tonight, I unveil the divine marriage of denim and devotion: True Religion Jeans and Rosaries by Trent. Yes, you heard me right—a collection so inspired, so transcendent, it’s practically a religious experience.
Let’s talk about True Religion Jeans. These aren’t just jeans; they’re a lifestyle, a statement, a calling. Each stitch, each fade, each strategically placed rip is a testament to the modern-day prophet: the designer who dared to ask, “What if holiness could be worn low-rise?” These jeans aren’t just for walking; they’re for worshiping—yourself, naturally.
And then there’s the pièce de résistance: rosaries by Trent. Oh, Trent, you mad genius, you’ve taken an ancient symbol of faith and made it fashion. Why pray in private when you can accessorize in public? These aren’t your grandma’s rosaries; they’re bedazzled, gold-plated, and dripping with enough sparkle to make the Vatican jealous. Who needs salvation when you’ve got Swarovski?
Now, some might call this sacrilegious. They might say, “Mugatu, have you no shame?” To them, I say: Shame is so last season. This is about blending the sacred with the stylish, the divine with the denim. It’s about creating a world where you can strut your stuff on the runway of life and still feel like you’re touching the heavens.
True Religion Jeans and Rosaries by Trent are for the bold, the daring, the chosen ones of fashion. They’re for those who understand that style isn’t just what you wear; it’s who you are. And who are you? A walking, talking, perfectly distressed masterpiece.
So go forth, my disciples of design, and spread the gospel of True Religion. Wear your faith on your hips, your devotion around your neck, and your confidence in every step. Because in the church of Mugatu, everyone is a fashion god.
Now, let’s raise a glass to the new holy trinity: denim, devotion, and daring. And remember: If you’re not wearing Mugatu, you’re not living.
Thank you, and may fashion bless us all!
Essay by Derek Zoolander: “The Dark Side of Fashion: Mugatu’s Sweatshops and the Fast Fashion Fallout”
When people think of fashion, they think of beauty, creativity, and really, really ridiculously good-looking people like me. But behind the glitz and glam of the runway lies a truth so ugly, it makes my head spin more than trying to turn left. This truth is about sweatshops and fast fashion, and how it’s tearing apart the world, one cheap outfit at a time.
Let’s start with Mugatu. The man is a legend in the fashion world, no doubt about it. He gave us the piano key necktie and the Derelicte collection, but at what cost? Turns out, Mugatu’s empire isn’t just built on innovative designs—it’s built on the backs of underpaid workers in sweatshops. These people work long hours in unsafe conditions for wages so low, even my roommates at the Center for Kids Who Can’t Read Good would think it’s unfair.
But it doesn’t stop there. Fast fashion, the industry Mugatu helped pioneer, isn’t just bad for workers—it’s bad for the planet. Every year, billions of cheap, trendy clothes are made, bought, and thrown away. Where do they end up? In massive dumping grounds in third-world countries. These places are overflowing with mountains of polyester and synthetic fabrics that don’t break down. It’s like a landfill, but instead of garbage, it’s last season’s crop tops and skinny jeans.
The people living near these dumping grounds suffer the most. Toxic dyes and chemicals from discarded clothes seep into their water. The mountains of waste make it impossible to grow food or live healthy lives. It’s like the fashion industry is saying, “Here, you take our trash, and we’ll take your future.”
I used to think fashion was all about looking good. But now I know it’s also about doing good. We can’t keep supporting brands like Mugatu’s that exploit workers and trash the planet. Instead, we need to demand better—better working conditions, better wages, and better ways to make clothes that don’t destroy the earth.
Fashion doesn’t have to be fast, and it doesn’t have to be disposable. It can be thoughtful, sustainable, and kind. And if we all work together, we can make the world a better place—one really, really ridiculously good-looking outfit at a time.
So let’s stand up to Mugatu and the sweatshop culture he represents. Let’s say no to fast fashion and yes to a future where everyone, from the workers who make our clothes to the people living near those dumping grounds, can live with dignity.
Because at the end of the day, fashion isn’t just about what we wear—it’s about who we are. And I don’t know about you, but I want to be someone who makes the world better, not worse.
Thank you for reading. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go work on my Magnum look.
Scene: Mugatu Confronts Derek Zoolander
Mugatu, dressed in his usual over-the-top attire, paces back and forth in his extravagant office. Derek Zoolander stands across from him, confused but intrigued. The tension in the room is palpable as Mugatu begins to speak.
Mugatu:
Derek, my boy, you really don’t see it, do you? You think you’re just a really, really ridiculously good-looking model who’s walked a million runways and made a few faces. But you’re more than that. You’re so much more.
Derek:
Uh, thanks, I guess? But, like, what are you talking about?
Mugatu:
Fashion, Derek. Fashion is a cult. And whether you realize it or not, you’re the leader.
Derek:
Wait, what? I thought cults were, like, creepy people in robes chanting in the woods or something.
Mugatu:
Oh, Derek, you sweet, oblivious fool. Fashion is the ultimate cult. Think about it! Millions of people worship at the altar of trends, sacrificing their paychecks for the latest looks. They follow blindly, doing whatever we tell them—wearing things that don’t even make sense, like hats made of ham or shoes with no soles. And do you know who they look to for guidance?
Derek:
Uh… Anna Wintour?
Mugatu:
No! You, Derek! You are the face of the cult. The high priest of pout. The messiah of male modeling. Every time you strut down the runway, every time you unleash Blue Steel, people fall to their knees and whisper, “What should I wear next?”
Derek:
Whoa. That’s, like, heavy. But, uh, I don’t think I’m smart enough to be a cult leader. I mean, I can’t even spell “cult.”
Mugatu:
Exactly! That’s what makes you perfect! You’re pure. Untouched by the cynicism of the industry. People follow you because you’re authentic—well, as authentic as someone with a perfect jawline can be.
Derek:
So… you’re saying I’m, like, in charge of everyone’s outfits?
Mugatu:
Yes! You have the power to shape the world, Derek! To tell people what to wear, how to think, how to live. Fashion isn’t just clothes; it’s control. It’s influence. And you, my dear Zoolander, are the key to it all.
Derek:
But if I’m the leader, what does that make you?
Mugatu:
Me? I’m the architect. The puppet master. The man who built this empire of threads and sequins. But you… you’re the face. The icon. The one they’ll follow to the ends of the earth—or at least to the clearance rack.
Derek:
Whoa. So, like, what do I do now?
Mugatu:
You embrace it, Derek. Lean into the power. Use it to shape the world. Or… you walk away, let the cult crumble, and watch as fashion descends into chaos. The choice is yours.
Derek:
Thinks for a moment, furrows his brow in concentration.
Can I think about it over a really big orange mocha frappuccino?
Mugatu:
Rolls his eyes, exasperated.
Fine. But don’t take too long, Derek. The world is waiting for its leader.
I confess, Diddy was two levels above me.
Father Joseph saved me. Sting just ignored my calls for help.