“To all the girls, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and achieve your own dreams.”
Of all the girls who represent a day of the week, Sunday should be the best. Monday’s drawling, Tuesday’s boring, Wednesday and Thursday wolf-whistle Friday, who’s too busy chatting up Saturday to notice. Sunday Girl’s pyjamaed until twelve, sleepy and searching for something sweet, swaddled in blanket, barefoot; effortlessly dressed in a cool and comfortable style, approachable and accessible. It’s this understated, relaxed atmosphere which makes Sunday Girl so easy to get along with. She’s unfussy, unflustered, almost wallflower-like, ready to talk about anything from heartbreak to empowerment. She speaks with integrity.
'It is not enough just to be well-known or famous, it is always searching for substance, the woman behind the brand.'
Sunday Girl is not just one, but many, a cascade of creative voices. Volume Four features Emma Mercury, founder of The Messy Heads and Chelsea Miller, founder of WeBelieve, indie-rock star, Sydney Lima, and model Lily Jean Bridger. In comparison to The Messy Heads, Sunday Girl is a stylish younger sibling, with more focus on fashion. Even though these women are powerful, representing their own brand or company, the articles and interviews are conversational, and you’re presented with more intimate information than answers Google could give you. It seems that is their slant. It is not enough just to be well-known or famous, it is always searching for substance, the woman behind the brand. That way, we’re included in something more personal than a plain interview.
A ‘Fashion Magazine for Intellectual Girls’, Sunday Girl keeps a keen eye for aesthetic. Unlike Sister or Polyester who make a point of badly photoshopping or provoking eye-popping colour, Sunday Girl uses a similar scrapbook-like aesthetic, which carries from their graphic design of cut-and-pasted poster girls (not Karlie Kloss, think more Claudette Colvin or Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit) into their eclectic photography. Its softer palette suits its easy style, the fashion of which is loose and appealing, punk t-shirts layered with gauze and lace. They celebrate finding your feet and developing your style, shifting from leather to glitter and mixing the two; it’s all part of the playful process of forming identity. Its prom photoshoot injects a sense of Americana nostalgia.
The beauty of youth is its unassuming naturalness, the attraction to oblivious feminine tenderness. It’s the one young adult magazine that dwells in the nuances of the present; it’s not whipping you to grow up or act your age (what does that even mean, anyway?). Sunday Girl is about liberation and inspiration, some serious topics without the dour faces. The virtue of youth is its unending vitality and verve.