Terry Richardson: fashion's shameful secret

Can you please explain who or what Terry Richardson is? I see his name everywhere these days.
Rosie, by email

Ahh, Terry, or – as he likes to be known by the young and frequently naked models he shoots – Uncle Terry, is one of the most successful celebrity and fashion photographers in the world as well as being easily the creepiest, and these two qualities are not disconnected.

People accuse the fashion industry of a lot of bad things, many of which are justified: it fetishises thinness, it worships youth, it is occasionally racist and it is aimed at the phenomenally wealthy. (I am not even going to deal with the oft-trotted nonsense that gay male fashion designers like skinny models because they're trying to make them look like little boys, because people who make this claim seem not to understand the difference between "gay" and "paedophile" and therefore are not worthy of anyone's time.)

All of these things are definitely part of the fashion industry, which is not the same as fashion itself, just as the FA is not the same as all of football. One can enjoy football and not condone paying thugs weekly salaries that exceed most people's annual income just as one can enjoy fashion and not be obsessed with one's thigh gap.

Moreover, a lot of fashion's critics often overlook the fact that the industry also has a lot of positive qualities: it is stuffed with powerful women; it is – despite what the idiotic The Devil Wears Prada suggests – very female-friendly and it can be extremely fun to work in, which is not a quality to sniff at.

But the sad truth is, many aspects of the fashion industry are indefensibly terrible. Even aside from the industry's weird aesthetic obsessions, it is bizarrely fond of celebrating men who are horrible to women, and this, to my mind, is the worst of its crimes. Take Karl Lagerfeld, for example, whose much-vaunted Renaissance-like intelligence does not, apparently, extend to making him realise that, to most people, saying things such as "I don't like [Pippa Middleton's] face. She should only show her back," or "[Adele] is a little too fat," makes him sound like Prince Philip's even less witty brother. But Lagerfeld has cannily realised that scandal adds to his celebrity in the fashion industry, and that industry is 90% celebrity these days.

Which brings us back to Richardson, current favourite photographer of every attention-seeking and credibility-seeking celebrity and fashion magazine in the world. He's known primarily for his overexposed photos of nearly naked people posing in what is best described as hipster quasi-porn. This, for whatever reason, is currently the trendy style of photography du jour (see also the similarly monotonous Juergen Teller and American Apparel adverts) and will one day look as dated as Athena posters do now. Some of us look eagerly forward to that day.

What marks Richardson out, though, is he has been repeatedly accused of sexual harassing young women modelling for him. Websites such as Jezebel and TheGloss have done commendable work over the years in publicising the experiences of these models, giving them the space to tell their stories without fear, and their reports make for horrendous if not all that surprising reading. Anyone who has seen Richardson's photos, frequently featuring a naked or nearly naked women, often simulating sexual acts, occasionally with a naked Richardson in the frame, too, will not be astonished that the man does not always exhibit wholly professional behaviour in the work place. Nonetheless, tales of him suggesting a model take out her tampon and put it in his tea, or of him getting a handjob from a model cheered on by his assistants, can and should only shock even the most hardened of fashion observers. This is a man with a tremendous amount of personal power, abusing his position and taking advantage of young, vulnerable women who don't feel able to speak up because they know it would cost them their jobs.

But perhaps the most nauseating twist to this saga is that Richardson just keeps getting hired, often by women who should know a lot better. American Vogue, which is largely staffed by women, commissions him. Beyoncé posed in knickers and a nearly non-existent T-shirt for him in GQ earlier this year while insisting that women need to start defining their own sexiness. And people say irony is dead. Miley Cyrus, with almost endearing predictability, chose him to direct her video for Wrecking Ball, which, with similar predictability, he chose to interpret by having her fellate some ironwork and swing on a ball naked.

Here's the thing about Richardson as a photographer: he's no good. His photos all look the same and they're boring. Here's the other thing about him: he's a creep and an alleged sexual predator. Yet big magazines, brands and celebrities continue to commission him and, even though there is currently a Change.org petition for them to stop, they won't. Because scandal in their eyes is the same as fame, and creepiness is confused with edginess, and that is why Richardson's success only grows. He continues to get hired, and the complaints of models are ignored. There are many things to criticise the fashion industry for, but the career of Richardson exemplifies one of its most shameful elements.

Post your questions to Hadley Freeman, Ask Hadley, The Guardian, Kings Place, 90 York Way, London N1 9GU. Email ask.hadley@theguardian.com