A new magazine for Indian prostitutes, Red Light Despatch, is sort of like Jezebel for the people who will one day buy their way out of sex work by carrying our babies for us, only with one critical difference: there's a newsroom inside the brothel. It doesn't sound like they sell many ads, but they keep their overhead low by relying mostly on the type of people who get paid a dollar for every sex act for content, and keeping circulation controlled for a high pass-along rate like Vice. In fact, it's actually less like Jezebel than it is like the prison magazines Don Diva or F.E.D.S., come to think of it, without the unabashed appreciation of, you know, hoes.

The tales of being sold into brothels and exploited by clients are gruesome, but it's nice to think there are "exclusive" publications in India targeting readers who are not part of the so-called "emerging middle-class." Sorta gives us hope for our reading material when publishers take note of the "dirt-poor hipster alcoholic class" we're pretty sure we see emerging out there in our own back-er, rusty ash-strewn fire escapes. And yes we recognize that this post has been hugely self-referential and glib in its attempt to find "humor" in the horrible fates of millions of women whose lives are so incomparable to ours to ponder our dumb luck in the birth lottery or whatever is truly depressing. At least you clicked. Now, back to looking for celebrities whose wealth and stupidity make us look not despicable in comparison.

New Magazine Targets Prostitutes [CNN]

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