The Legendary Issue by Eide Magazine

ISSUE WORLD

NO.8

C U LT U R E

SOUTHERN

STYLE

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LEG END ARY PRE-SPRI NG

2014

I S S U E

ALICE WATERS • HOWARD FINSTER’S PARADISE GARDEN • GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE • FRANK

SINATRA & JACK DANIEL’S • WILLIAM FAULKNER

noun, plural of ei·dos [ahy-dee]. The distinctive and formal expression of the cognitive or intellectual character of a culture or social group. It is the essence of each thing and its primary substance.

Tova Gelfond EDITOR-IN-CHIEF/ CREATIVE DIRECTOR

Craig Rosenberg CFO

Jaime Lin Weinstein SENIOR EDITOR

Avi Gelfond ART DIRECTOR

Tian Justman FASHION DIRECTOR

Courtney Foster EDITORIAL ASSISTANT

Joanna Berliner, Ashley Brechtel, Bonnie Herring, Austin Holt, Alex Kukler and Lauren Ladov CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Russell Dreyer, Max Eremine, David Feldman, Julia Gartland, Jimmy Johnston and Brianna Roth CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Charlie Watts STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER

Jon Stachewicz CONTRIBUTING ILLUSTRATOR

Christina Montford, Alex Taylor and Gina Yu EDITORIAL INTERNS

Lauren Foster and J. G. Ginsburg DESIGN INTERNS

Daricka Walton FASHION INTERN

© Enlightenmint Media Group, LLC 2014. All rights reserved. No part of this magazine may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the publisher Enlightenmint Media Group. The views expressed in Eidé Magazine are those of the respective contributors and are not necessarily shared by the magazine or its staff. The registered office of Enlightenmint Media Group is at 1200 Foster Street NW, Suite 20, Atlanta, Ga 30318. All information contained in the magazine is for information only and is as far as we are aware, correct at the time of going to press. Enlightenmint Media cannot accept any responsibility for errors or inaccuracies in such information. Readers are advised to contact manufacturers and retailers directly with regard to the price of products/services referred to in this magazine. If you submit unsolicited material to us, you automatically grant Enlightenmint Media a license to publish your submission in whole, or in part, in all editions of the magazine, including licensed editions worldwide and in any physical or digital format throughout the world. Any material you submit is sent at your risk and, although every care is taken, neither Enlightenmint Media nor its employees, agents, or subcontractors shall be liable for loss or damage. Published six times a year by Enlightenmint Media Group, LLC 1200 Foster Street NW, Suite 20, Atlanta, Ga 30318

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LETTER FROM THE

Legendary Now

’m completely mystified by the past. Perhaps it’s the generational season, identified by its gravitational pull to hand-crafted, weather-worn, overexposed elements with a yesteryear filter. Or maybe I just grew up with a reverence for things that came before my time. I’m fascinated by what has survived and what will survive us. The ruins of former cultures have left behind traces we hear about in the form of fairy tales, inspirations in the shape of heroes and frameworks through the design of fashion. True, the past also just seems a hell of a lot more glamorous. That’s why we reference the glossy curls of “Old Hollywood” or low-waisted beading of the “Roaring Twenties” with so much gusto. I just want to marinate in it. But so much of the soul and purpose of those ages get watered down over time. Spartans wanted to die as legends; we want to die as reality-show stars. We’re all so into instant gratification these days. I’m no better (i.e. the must-have Chanel bag and the totally-worth-it extra-large slice of cheesecake). Less often do we wonder about how the choices we make will resonate

tomorrow (the sad bank account post purchase and the five pounds of extra weight post cake). Even worse, we’re sometimes shocked by the impact of our lifelong pursuits and behaviors (spending habits that make it impossible to retire and out-of-control diets that lead to heart disease). Though I’d like to think it’s not as bleak as that. We can, however, persist through unfading passions and unwavering principles. The sacrifices we make today to build something tomorrow — they are the sands of our vast empire (though perhaps not as impressive as historic Rome). The whiskey we drink, the stories we tell, the hats we wear, the crafts we commit our lives to — they will all translate to those after our time in some way. And through this, we all become the stuff of legends. I’d like to think the details of our lives will survive us. Maybe this issue will end up under glass somewhere in a time when people dress up like “Millennials” to feel a sense of historical glamour. In the meantime, taking a picture certainly doesn’t hurt. And, yes, it might have a yesteryear filter.

Tova Gelfond

The Goat Farm Arts Center

and Théâtre du Rêve Present

A V I E W B E H I N D T H E RU N WA Y

MAR

Featuring the T I A N J U S T M A N Fall 2014 premiere runway collection "Time of Release", in dialogue with COCO, a play by B.M. Koltès. Directed by Christof Veillon, starring Park Krausen & Scott Turner Schofield.

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THE CONTRIBUTORS LAUREN LADOV 1 As an educator in Camden, N.J., contributing writer Lau-

JAIME TERLECKI 4 Growing up near New York City, hair stylist Jaime Terlecki

CHARLIE WATTS 2 Atlanta-based artist

ren Ladov facilitates youth empowerment programming through cooking and gardening. Together, she believes we discover just how powerful our own two hands can be. Discovering the wonder of food animates her writing, especially her piece in this issue, “An Alchemist’s Guide to the Kitchen,” through which she hopes “to instill the magic of potential onto another.” and fashion photographer Charlie Watts seeks to create images not of this world; to use photography as a stepping-stone to the unknown realm just past the peripheral edge of consciousness. She creates images to bring imagination into fruition and provide a visual escape from the mundane to the fantastical. “Through Eidé’s fantastic crew we were able to create an otherworldly take on truths behind fairy tales,” says Watts on her fairy tale-inspired shoot. “Each image created tells a unique story and provides a glimpse into a world where fashion and fantasy collide.” (charliewattsphotography.com)

has always been drawn toward hair and fashion. Throughout her seven years in the industry she has trained under some of Atlanta’s and New York’s top stylists. Her inspiration for the shoots in this issue was “classic romanticism with a mix of today’s current runway looks,” she explains adding, “I had a blast working with such a creative and inspiring team!” BRIANNA ROTH Photographer Brianna Roth is a self-described “lover of all things beautiful,” and that’s what she most enjoys when taking a photograph — creating something beautiful. Additionally, she finds that each photograph brings new experiences, adventures and people into her life. Being asked to photograph for Eidé Magazine has been “a privilege and a joy,” she says. “Each shoot offered a variety of creativity, and I love that.” (briannaroth.com)

JON STACHEWICZ 3 Jon Stachewicz is a freelance illustrator living in Atlanta.

ISSUE No.8 Wo R L D C U LT U R E SoUTHERN STYLE EIDEMAGAzINE.CoM

POWER COUPLES OF THE SOUTH T H E FAC T S B E H I N D

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ON THE COVER Photography by JIMMY JOHNSTON Styling by TIAN JUSTMAN Model: EMME MARTIN Makeup by ERICA BOGART Hair Styling by JAIME TERLECKI (more on page 118)

DISPLAY UNTIL MARCH 31, 2014

Burdened with an intense love for comics and animation at an early age, he’s spent his life honing his craft into something he can kind of actually make a living off now. The best kinds of stories, he believes, are those that are so outlandish that when you hear them, you can’t help but think that they’re completely made up. “When I was first clued in on the story of Wojtek, that’s the exact reaction I had,” he says of the legendary bear he created a piece about in this issue. “I went for this style of comic because I want the readers to have the same reaction I did, then slowly realize they’re learning about a pretty cool, very real piece of history.” (thejaystack.com)

LEG END ARY PRE-SPRING

2014

I S S U E

Alice WAters • HoWArd Finster’s pArAdise gArden • gotHic ArcHitecture • FrAnk

sinAtrA & JAck dAniel’s • WilliAm FAulkner

TABLE

OF CONTENTS:

PAS DE DEUX

POWER COUPLES EXPLORE THE DANCE OF BALANCING WORK AND LOVE. 14 BLACKBERRY SWIRL CAKE

With mascarpone cream. A recipe by Julia Gartland.

20 THE CASE FOR BREAD

And all of its crackly, crumbly, carbohydrate glory.

24 CLEANING (FASHION) HOUSE

New designers mark new directions for iconic fashion brands.

36 INFINITY MADE IMAGINABLE

Gothic architecture grows up.

42 A MOD MED

Club Med’s legendary take on travel.

46 PAPER, TOBACCO AND WHISKEY

William Faulkner continues to captivate generations with the colorful reputation that precedes him.

62 AN ALCHEMIST'S GUIDE

Five steps to add a little alchemy to your kitchen.

66 WATERS SAVES THE WORLD

One meal at a time.

69 THE TAROT-DECK LIFE

A love story.

126

72 A MILLION LITTLE PIECES

Folk art and fashion collide at Howard Finster’s Paradise Garden.

86 ONCE UPON A TRUE STORY

When it comes to fairy tales, there's no such thing as a happy ending.

96 WOJTEK

Legend of the soldier bear.

98 THE SIN OF SILENCE

Get all the f-bombs and socially unacceptable political improprieties out of your system and start saying Holocaust.

102 OVER TIME

Put your cell phone away, luxury watches are the preferred way to count the hours.

112 BEAUTY BEHIND BARS

Female inmates are just as concerned with their beauty routine as the rest of us.

118 MILLINERY MOMENT

Hold your head high in the ultimate fashion accessory.

126 LACED UP

It’s time to make good on grandma’s hand-me-down doilies.

130 OL’ BLUE EYES AND NO. 7

Frank Sinatra and Jack Daniel’s: A legendary friendship and defining standard.

102

112

118

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FOOD & BEVERAGE

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WITH MASCARPONE CREAM (SERVES 6-8)

GLUTEN FREE

CORNMEAL BLACKBERRY LEMON SWIRL CAKE

Recipe and Photography by JULIA GARTLAND

PRE-SPRING 2014

INGREDIENTS CAKE: 1 stick butter, room temperature 1 cup/150 grams brown sugar 2 cups/210 grams almond flour 3 large eggs 1 cup/130 grams cornmeal 2 tablespoons tapioca flour 1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 3/4 teaspoon xanthan gum 1/4 teaspoon salt 1 lemon, juice and zest 3/4 cup almond milk 6 ounces mascarpone cheese, room temperature

BLACKBERRY COMPOTE:

4 cups blackberries 1 lemon, juice and zest 1/4 cup granulated sugar 1/4 cup water

INSTRUCTIONS Preheat oven to 350 degrees. To make compote, add blackberries, water, sugar and lemon to a medium saucepan. Bring to a rolling boil, then simmer until mixture begins to thicken (about 20 minutes). Set aside and let cool. In a stand mixer, cream together butter and brown sugar. On a low speed, slowly add one egg at a time. Carefully add cornmeal, almond flour, salt, tapioca flour, baking powder and xanthan gum â&#x20AC;&#x201D; pouring in a little at a time to make sure mixture is well combined. Finally, add in lemon juice and zest, and almond milk. Once batter is mixed well, grease an 8- to 9-inch bundt or springform pan. To make swirl, carefully layer about 3/4 cup of blackberry compote and cake batter repeatedly until batter is gone. Set aside the rest of the compote for topping later. Bake blackberry swirl cake for approximately 45 minutes, or until browned. Let cool for 20 minutes. Remove cake from pan by putting a plate over the top, then carefully flipping. Meanwhile, whisk mascarpone cheese in a mediumsized bowl until creamy and pour over cake to glaze. Drizzle with the rest of the blackberry compote. Serve warm and enjoy!

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FOOD & BEVERAGE

Story by JAIME LIN WEINSTEIN

Photography by CHARLIE WATTS

The

Case for

Bread AND ALL OF ITS CRACKLY, CRUMBLY, CARBOHYDRATE GLORY.

There is something special about bread. From the basic combination of ingredients flour and water, it can then take on infinite flavors and forms: baguettes and focaccia, brioches and croissants, loaves of marble rye, country white, honey wheat, sourdough, challah, pumpernickel, multigrain â&#x20AC;Ś.

nd it ignites so many senses with almost erotic undertones. Just imagine its fresh-from-the-oven warmth. Envision the crackly crust that, when sliced, exposes its soft, delicate interior and escaping aroma; that indescribable fresh bread smell, and its complex tastes that linger on the palate. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s no wonder bread is one of the most

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popular foods worldwide. But in the past few decades, the arousal of bread seems to have given way to notions of weight gain and autoimmune disorders, thanks in part to Dr. Atkins and his low-carb constituents. And more recently, the gluten-intolerant community has managed to propagate an ailment into a gastronomic trend.

or those with Celiac disease and true gluten intolerances, I know it can have adverse effects on the body, and you have well-merited objections to the product. But many have merely jumped on the gluten-free bandwagon for alleged health and weight-loss reasons. I’m calling you out on your misguided bread boycott. According to market research firm Mintel, 65 percent of consumers who eat gluten-free foods don’t have any gluten allergy but simply think it is healthier. Furthermore, 27 percent maintain a gluten-free diet because of the perception that it aids in their weight-loss efforts. Neither belief is supported by any credible evidence. But I digress. Let us rewind a few millennia to really evaluate the important role this food has played throughout human history. Bread first became a staple in the daily human diet during the Neolithic Era, roughly 10,000 years ago. Up until this time, ancient man relied on hunting and gathering to survive. The discovery of grains like wheat and barley in the Fertile Crescent led to the beginning of farming, and with it, the emergence of a non-nomadic way of life in which basic societies were able to form. Granted this prehistoric flatbread (made by frying a mixture of water and grains on stone) was far from what you’ll find in your local bakery. But its part in the shift to an agricultural diet marks a very important turning point in history. Those light and fluffy loaves (aka leavened) that we know well today came about in Egypt by around 3000 B.C. No one is quite sure the exact way leavened dough was discovered, but there are two equally plausible theories. Yeast, the most common leavening agent for bread, is a naturally occurring fungus that needs a

source of energy (like a bowl of flour and water) to grow. The first theory involves some airborne yeast finding a home in a bowl of forgotten dough, which was later found and baked. Egyptians started brewing beer (which also involves yeast) around this same time, so the second theory speculates that some clever little Egyptian decided to swap the water in his dough mixture for beer and voilà — the world’s first leavened (beer) bread. Bread not only became essential to the ancient Egyptian diet, but to their culture and religion as well. Bread assumed great significance and was offered to the gods — namely Isis, who guaranteed the fertility of the fields, and Osiris, known as the giver of bread. It was even used as currency, such as payment given to the laborers who built the pyramids. And we cannot omit what is arguably the most culturally and religiously significant bread-relevant event to come out of the land of Egypt: the Exodus. The Old Testament tells the story of the Israelites’ escape from enslavement by the Pharaohs. They left with such haste there was no time to allow their bread to rise. The bread, thus, when baked, resulted in an unleavened flatbread known as matzo. Today, Jewish people

BREAD FIRST BECAME A STAPLE IN THE DAILY HUMAN DIET DURING THE NEOLITHIC ERA, ROUGHLY 10,000 YEARS AGO. observe Passover, a holiday commemorating their people’s liberation, in part by ridding their homes of all leavened products and eating only matzo during the seven-day remembrance. From there, bread spread from the areas along the Nile to the Greeks and the Romans and all across Europe. Legend has it bread finally made its way to the Americas thanks to Christopher Columbus. PRE-SPRING 2014

Then in the modern era came the invention by which we measure all subsequent inventions — sliced bread.

he single-loaf-at-a-time, bread-slic- after America’s “Got Milk?” campaign, the sloing machine was invented by Otto gan, “Coucou, tu as pris le pain?” (“Hi there, have Frederick Rohwedder of Davenport, you picked up the bread?”) has been printed on Iowa, and was first commercial- billboards and bread bags all over the country. ly used by the Chillicothe Baking Its website, tuasprislepain.fr, emphasizes bread’s Company of Chillicothe, Mo. in 1928. “So neat role in everything from health (“It is rich in vegand precise are the slices, and so definitely better etal protein and fiber and low in fat.”) to family than anyone could possibly slice by hand with a (“Remember that buying fresh bread on the way bread knife that one realizes instantly that here is home is a simple way of showing loved ones that a refinement that will receive a hearty and perma- you have thought about them and of giving them nent welcome,” reads a quote in the city of Chill- pleasure during the day.”). icothe’s local newspaper on July 7, 1928. AmeriThe idea that bread plays a familial part is not cans quickly took to this consumer convenience, unique to European culture. Bread is significant resulting in increased bread consumption. And to family gatherings and celebrations in Mexitoday, every innovation of convenience is touted co, for instance. The “Dia de los Muertos (Day as “the greatest thing since sliced bread.” of the Dead) holiday is a good example of that,” The bad rap of bread, though, can be attribut- says Dale Ralston, co-owner (with husband Eric ed to the likes of such modern-day technological Arillo) of La Calavera Bakery in Atlanta, referadvances. Traditional breadmaking is extremely ring to the annual holiday during which family time-consuming, requiring several cycles of knead- and friends gather to remember those who have ing and resting. Using chemical additives and infe- passed. “A beloved deceased person’s favorite rior grains can reduce necessary fermentation time, foods are prepared for them on the first days but it also reof November duces taste and their loved AND TODAY, EVERY INNOVATION by nutritional valones so that OF CONVENIENCE IS TOUTED AS they might ue. This widespread practice visit from the “THE GREATEST THING SINCE even led the spirit world SLICED BREAD.” French governand once again ment to decree a special designation for “the bread enjoy earthly delights,” she explains. This inof French tradition” (baguette de traditon) in 1993, cludes pan de muerto, a soft, lightly sweet bread meaning the bread is made exclusively with flour, flavored with orange blossom water (and a Calasalt, water and leavening, and sans any additives. vera specialty). But bread consumption is still declining in Yes, bread is pretty amazing when you stop to France; the average Frenchman today eats half a think about it. Even aside from its role in family, baguette daily compared with almost a whole one diet and religion and purely as a food, it’s a truin 1970 and more than three in 1900 — statistics ly legendary obsession. For better or worse, for so concerning that France’s bakers’ and millers’ weight gain or survival, it has been the showstoplobby, Observatoire du Pain, started a campaign per of our tabletops for generations, and it’s not in June of last year to promote bread. Modeled going anywhere.

So do yourself a favor, and break some bread today. The carbs are so worth it. 22

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FA S H I O N

Photography by BRIANNA ROTH Styling by TIAN JUSTMAN Models: LINDSAY DAVIS (Presence Models & Talent Atlanta), BROOKE LEEDER (CLICK Atlanta), EMILY LI (Presence Models & Talent Atlanta), HALEY ROHE (Factor Atlanta), HALI ROSS (CLICK Atlanta) and RACHEL ZEHNER (Factor Atlanta) Makeup by ERICA BOGART for CoverGirl Hair Styling by JAIME TERLECKI for b.You Stylist Assistant: DARICKA WALTON Production Assistance by COURTNEY FOSTER Shot on location at CALLANWOLDE FINE ARTS CENTER. All clothing available at MIZ SCARLETT’S.

CLEANING HOUSE (Fashion)

Story by JAIME LIN WEINSTEIN

NEW DESIGNERS MARK NEW DIRECTIONS FOR ICONIC FASHION BRANDS.

lame it on Karl Lagerfeld, perhaps. The German-born designer revived the waning Chanel brand when he was hired as chief designer in 1983 and subsequently set the standard for old houses trying to reinvigorate their aging brands with new designers. “The label has an image. It is up to me to update it,” Lagerfeld told CNN of his work as head designer and creative director of the French fashion house, “… and go from what it was, what it should be, what it could be, what it had been, to something else. It sounds very complicated but, in fact, it is not.” Indeed it’s a fine line to walk — breathing new life into a legendary house while respecting its history, reinventing while reinforcing the brand at the same time. And the latest crop of designers taking over fashion houses come with varying perspectives on their duty to honor the past, or challenge it.

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Dress, $1,200, NORA ATTALAI. Blouse, price upon request, SĒMPLICE.

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Straw Corset Dress, $9,800, GERMANO REALE.

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Nude Mohair Suit, $4,400, THIERRY MUGLER.

"A DRESS IS A PIECE OF EPHEMERAL ARCHITECTURE, DESIGNED TO ENHANCE THE PROPORTIONS OF THE FEMALE BODY." -CHRISTIAN DIOR

PRE-SPRING 2014

"WHAT I HAVE IN MIND ARE THINGS THAT ARE DELUXE BUT THAT YOU CAN ALSO THROW INTO A BAG AND ESCAPE TOWN WITH, BECAUSE LOUIS VUITTON HAS A HERITAGE IN TRAVEL." -MARC JACOBS

Sweater Coat and Skirt, $3,200, BJ KNITS LONDON.

Consider Carven, a French house that, like Chanel, is deeply rooted in the aesthetic of its female founder and was in desperate need of rebranding until 2009, when designer Guillaume Henry was appointed creative director.

e looked to the attitude of the label’s creator — understated but chic, shy but sexy — to redefine the brand with a modern interpretation. Consequently, the company grew from a staff of five (including Henry) to more than 60, attracting fans from Beyoncé to Emma Stone. A token of his success could be his focus on the brand itself, rather than on himself. He has equated talking about fashion to talking about sports and citing that the importance lies in the team, not the player. A recent takeover of the more contentious kind is that of Hedi Slimane — the French fashion designer replaced Stefano Pilati as the creative director of luxury fashion house Yves Saint Laurent in March of 2012. Slimane asserted his reign from the start with the (audacious) decision to change the name of the brand from YSL to SLP for Saint Laurent Paris (though the classic YSL logo has been retained for accessories and cosmetics). While a house like Coco Chanel’s is known simply as “Chanel” and Christian Dior is often branded sans Christian, the name change was, in a word, bold. Though some would argue that is exactly what Yves Saint Laurent always stood for — remember this is the house that pioneered pantsuits for women and first sent black models down its Parisian catwalk. The mood toward Slimane has grown less hostile as the clothes are selling. It seems

consumers are appreciating his vision for Saint Laurent’s future with pieces that are more than mere homage to the past — like his punk rock version of the classic YSL tuxedo jacket paired with black leather miniskirts and skinny pants worn on the Spring 2014 Ready-to-Wear runway. Christian Dior’s latest leader Raf Simons, on the other hand, seems to be steering clear of controversy (a smart move after John Galliano was fired for an alleged anti-Semitic tirade in February the year before his appointment). With a subtler take on redefining classics, Simons’ Spring 2014 collection updated the vintage Dior ball gown silhouette with brocades and metallic threads; the nipped-waist jackets with houndstooth shields at the breast. Then there’s Alexander Wang, the American fashion designer who was named creative director of Balenciaga in November of 2012 (following Nicolas Ghesquière’s departure after 15 years at the label). With a Spring collection that infused the house’s DNA (ovoid silhouettes with broadened shoulders) with the designer’s sporty/youthful style (cropped tees and woven leather), Wang proved he knows how to strike a balance between his own modernity and the legacy of a nearly century-old brand. Ghesquière has left his own legacy with the brand: a lawsuit. Balenciaga is seeking $9.2 million in damages for com-

ments the designer made in an interview published in System magazine that violated his separation agreement by hurting “the image of Balenciaga.” Among the quotes cited in the suit: “I began to feel as though I was being sucked dry, like they wanted to steal my identity while trying to homogenize things.” But while the Belgian designer’s career with Balenciaga may be over, his career in fashion certainly is not. Ghesquière will be designing for Louis Vuitton (he was made creative director in November last year after Marc Jacobs ended his 16-year long tenure with the brand). His first collection for the company will be shown at the Fall 2014 Paris Fashion Week. Another designer to debut at the Fall Paris Fashion Week will be David Koma. The London-based Koma was announced to take over Thierry Mugler in December 2013, replacing Nicola Formichetti. (Formichetti had previously renamed the Parisian fashion house MUGLER after he took over as creative director in 2010. Looks like Slimane was not alone in his renaming decision.) We can’t wait to see what’s in store from these accomplished designers as they breathe new life into some classic fashion labels, and what new takeovers 2014 will reveal. But it still leaves us with one question to ponder: Who could possibly take the helm of Chanel once Lagerfeld departs?

PRE-SPRING 2014

"COUTURE BROUGHT ME GREAT HAPPINESS, THE JOY OF CREATING. I DID EVERYTHING I COULD TO MAKE WOMEN BEAUTIFUL." -CARMEN DE TOMMASO

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"THERE IS A TIME TO SHOW THE LEGS AND TO SHOW THE CLEAVAGE, BUT IT'S ABOUT THE CUT." -VALENTINO

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Dress, $3,800, AMANDA WAKELEY.

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INFIN DESIGN

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NITY MADE IMAGINABLE

GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE GROWS UP Story by AUSTIN HOLT

In the architectural family tree, the Modernism movement is the gawky nephew who stares at meme sites on his iPhone all day. Brutalism, with its modular, boxy blandness, is the socially awkward uncle who makes everyone cringe when he walks through the door on Thanksgiving, because they all know that he’s just going to get drunk and yell at the football game. Gatsby-esque Art Deco, with its sweeping geometrics and lavish character, is the flamboyant son who finally came out of the closet a few weeks ago (so Thanksgiving might be a little awkward at times, especially because he’s bringing his new boyfriend, Art Nouveau, whom he’s not looking forward to introducing to his dad, Baroque). PRE-SPRING 2014

ey, this is fun. Let’s see … Neoclassicism is the type-A sister who won’t shut up about the year she spent studying in Europe (it’s always Europe, and never one particular country); Romanesque is the deaf granddad who just sits there and smiles into the air, probably has gas; mom is … what the hell, a ranch-style 3br/2ba in the suburbs. What I’m trying to say, is that this is a pretty boring family, and Thanksgiving is going to be lame. Except for grandma. She’s awesome. She’s ancient, but she’s still on top of her shit. She slaves over a hot stove all day with nothing but a fork and a cast-iron skillet, and still manages to sling out some serious Le Cordon Bleu stuff. She always has a glass of wine within arm’s reach, and as the night goes on, she’ll regale you with stories about the time she got schnockered with the Archbishop of Canterbury during that long weekend in Leeds. Grandma is Gothic and tends to dress in what can only be described as some strange hybrid of a sequined muumuu and a flapper dress. She overpaid for the gaudy jewel-tone baubles she got on her honeymoon to Paris, and will be glad to chew your ear off about eating baguettes in the shadow of the Arc de Triomphe. (She can’t stand the sister, either.) She’s taken her licks, but she’s still got class. She ran out of fucks to give a long, long time ago.

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Today, we regard Gothic architecture with a degree of reverence.

he sweeping vertical designs, flying buttresses, vaulted ceilings and abundance of natural light through ornate, stained glass windows were a far cry from the architecture of the Medieval age. Prior to the appearance of the first examples of the Gothic style in 12th century France, the grand homes, churches and communal structures that served as the focal points of newly prospering European towns and cities were dank, rudimentary places, born of simplistic building skills and a limited ability to utilize available materials. These were functional structures, but in comparison to the standards that would be set, they weren’t what one would call beautiful. That would come next. By the 1100s, Europe was experiencing a paradigm shift. The Holy Roman Empire had gained a solid foothold as the dominating force throughout most of central Europe, though its presence in the independent kingdoms of western Europe was tightening. Still, governance remained largely autonomous in the city-states and kingdoms that had begun to grow and prosper during an unprecedented golden age of trade and commerce — a fragile balance that would continue for centuries. With pockets of wealth springing up throughout the countryside, and a solid influence of the Catholic Church, people had both the means and the inspiration to advance to the next step in architectural expression. One of the problems architects had encountered before the inception of Gothic architecture was that of weight distribution. In Medieval times, buildings had to be fairly squat, or they would collapse on themselves. Flying buttresses and vaulted ceilings — support structures that allowed weight to be dispersed more evenly — were some of the most important innovations that were intro-

duced at the dawn of the Gothic era. For the first time, buildings were able to reach toward the sky. This was a quality that didn’t go unnoticed by the Church, which utilized this new style to create buildings that, literally, reached toward the heavens (Now that we have you in this big, new building, we’d like to chat with you about indulgences…) Design took a giant leap forward, too. Even the functional structures were decorated with an ornate, finely detailed lavishness. Imagine being one of the first visitors to Notre Dame in Paris when it opened in 1345, after nearly 200 years of construction. Not only would the building have been larger than anything you had ever stepped foot in, but the intricate, decorative style must have been spellbinding. Never before had architects been able to have such creative freedom when it came to adorning their buildings: statuaries poised high off the

to design one of these structures: imagine your excitement at the undertaking being tempered by the realization that your grandchildren would be long dead by the time it was complete. But, the great cities wanted to show off, and the elements that would become synonymous with Gothic architecture were the ones they used to do it. It is worth noting that the term Gothic, in the architectural sense, wasn’t coined until the movement had nearly run its course. Throughout history, any new advance in building style has usually been considered to be ‘modern’ in one colloquialism or another, with more specific terminology popping up retrospectively. ‘Gothic’ was no different. In 16th century Italy, polymaths with access to the new technology of book printing finally had a venue for their Renaissance-infused snobbery; one of these men was Giorgio Vasari, a painter-slash-architect and founding

THIS WAS THE MIDDLE OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE, DAMMIT, AND PEOPLE WERE NO LONGER CONTENT TO REST ON THE LAURELS OF ANTIQUATED DESIGN. ground; vaulting spires that seemed to reach God himself; even the gargoyles, those monstrous embellishments that diverted the rain from eroding the fragile limestone, all while serving the double purpose of warding off the evil forces that threatened everyday life. In a time when most construction was still quite primitive and utilitarian, the world’s great Gothic buildings were being assembled one stone at a time, through immense trial and error. Consider being chosen by the Church

father of art history. In his book, “Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors and Architects,” he got a little off-topic and described the movement that had dominated European cities for the last four centuries as barbarous and — gasp! — German. The term itself comes from Vasari’s descriptions of the Goths, or “vandals,” who demolished Rome’s classical facades in favor of the new style. A centuries-old grudge was given a voice as educated men were finally able to partake in aesthetic critique.

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photo by Drew Newman

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number of the Enlightenment’s literati agreed with the analysis. This was the middle of the Italian Renaissance, dammit, and people were no longer content to rest on the laurels of antiquated design. It was a new era of classicism. They had domes to build, columns to erect, books to read and virgins to paint. To them, Gothic stylings represented the 400 years of uneducated superstition that came with the Church-dominated culture of the Middle Ages. The

pointed arches and spindling towers had become brick-and-mortar symbols of a time when information and salvation were intrinsically linked. Now, for the first time, information was in the hands of the people, and even in a land where the Catholic Church still reigned supreme, a new era was dawning, and people wanted something fresh to call their own. Gothic architecture had become the Britney Spears of buildings — it was always there, and you felt a little embarrassed for liking it in the first

place because you’re a grownup now, and your tastes have changed. Today, half a millennia after the Gothic age fizzled out, we’re able to look back on the style without such a cynical eye and appreciate the work that went into it. Considering the general impermanence of architecture, either owed to imperfect building techniques or to the human desire to destroy the old to make way for the new, the world is, luckily, still peppered with a number of fine examples of the Gothic style.

Juxtaposing Vasari, a later critic named Samuel Taylor Coleridge was able to use a more even hand (and some fine, British vernacular) to sum up the movement: “The principle of Gothic architecture,” he said, “is infinity made imaginable.”

Take that, Vasari.

PRE-SPRING 2014

TRAVEL

Mod Med CLUB MED’S LEGENDARY TA K E O N T R AV E L

Story by TOVA GELFOND

The world’s travel history was not an all-you-can-eat one.

or was it an open-bar, free-for-all, activities-included one. Sandy beaches were not sheltered with clusters of lounge umbrellas with matching drink umbrellas. You couldn’t book a stay from an iPhone app thousands of miles and time zones away. The comprehensive leisure market was an exclusive one that emerged circa 1950. And then, there was only one name for it: Club Med. This boho-chic resort concept hit the hospitality scene by force through the ’60s and reigned supreme in the ’70s, garnering fans, a few naysayers and a slew of Club-Med-isms.

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My parents’ generation defined a certain type of person by their Club Med travel: a person of means, typically single (or swingers) thriving off the free-love, free-everything notions of luxe vacating. The rooms were very stark (a simple wardrobe cabinet) and when you left the room, it would not lock — a feature meant to encourage people to go out and bump into others and opportunities. And no one can forget the notorious bar beads — the famed currency to pay for drinks sans wallet — a necklace of colorful orbs meant to go from beach to bar without skipping a beat. It was a fresh take on activities and social interactions.

A vintge French ad for Club Med that reads, “To Play.”

A Club Med retreat in the Maldives.

We all know of the Méditerranée perception in its heyday: a veritable Playboy Club … by the water … with a plentiful bar. I’m told it was a picture of hedonism. I imagine half-naked people shoreside doing water sports in between gritty beach breaks with sticks of skewered bread dunked into a fondue pot. It’s all so terribly cliché. However, it was the first of its kind; the truest novelty. But somewhere in the decades between flower children and “Frankie Says Relax,” the baby boomers grew up, and hundreds of other hotels — boutique and corporate — started playing the all-inclusive game. So now, innovating to surpass the standard, Club Med has recovered the magic of yore with a modern vision for the current times that’s confronting all the boring platitudes of the hospitality industry. PRE-SPRING 2014

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Club Med Day 1 It’s 1949 and a man named Gérard Blitz, 38, takes a vacation to Corsica and stays in the Olympic Club’s tent village. Incited by this no-doubt stimulating trip, he decides to open up a holiday spot to call his own, which he aptly dubs Club Méditerranée. He fashions the concept around training, leisure and rejuvenation, hiring 20 staff members to lead and instruct sports and activities. The location: the island of Majorca in Spain. For lodging, he orders 200 tents from a fellow named Gilbert Trigano, who becomes a co-founder of what’s shaping into a killer boy-scout setting. The digs are simple, but the spirit is sublime: everyone’s there to free themselves from the stresses of life. That first summer, they charm some 2,300 vacationers and have to turn away 10,000 hopefuls. The “Med life” is born. By 1955 they’ve already pioneered a new commitment to travel. Bungalows are built in Tahiti, but it takes a month to get there by boat (the primary form of long-distance travel of the age) for Europeans, and let’s not forget it takes a month to return. And you know what? It’s a hit. From there, they reached the mountain tops of Switzerland, the Galilean beaches of Israel, the sandswept greenery of Agadir, Morocco and beyond.

60+ Years Later The new Club Med, circa now, with its drop-down list of locales and famous advertising campaigns, has undergone some serious structural and thematic upgrades over the past 60 years. But the spirit, the core, is still there. A far cry from the stoic atmospheres of standardized, clinical hotels with all-too-sanitary socialization scenarios, Club Med has managed to dish up grandeur with a side of comfort. Everything in settings from Asia and Africa to our side of the globe is upscale these days. The doors lock, the wardrobes are wide and the amenities plentiful. There are extravagant villas and apart-

ments, family activities from daycare to the junior set and you can choose the vibe of the resort you want. Looking for couples-only? They have it. If you need a place you can drag the entire clan, there’s a spot for that, too. Singles and friends are privy to their own selections of options as well. And it’s probably a sustainable space. It’s a new age for Millennial travel and Club Med is just as connected as before. Its roots are strong while the improvements have introduced them to a modern and elegant jetsetter crowd. No more fondue pots. This is not your momma’s Club Med. This one, is for you. PRE-SPRING 2014

SOCIETY

PaPer, tobaCCo and a LittLe

Whiskey Story and Photography by Courtney Foster

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â&#x20AC;&#x153;My own exPerience haS been that the tooLS i need for My trade are PaPer, tobacco, food and a LittLe whiSkey.â&#x20AC;?

Known as one of the most influential and charmingly inebriated American literary geniuses of all time, William Cuthbert Faulkner has not only graced the pages of literature and history books with his endearing yet controversial works, but has also continued to captivate generations with the colorful reputation that precedes him. PRE-SPRING 2014

The entrance of Rowan Oak.

hroughout my time as a journalism student at the University of Mississippi, I could feel William Faulkner’s legacy seep from the cracks of every brick building and stone sidewalk that made up the quaint town of Oxford. Peeking into the windows of bookstores around town, Faulkner’s works were always on display, and then there is the bronze statue of him seated outside Oxford City Hall that captures his debonair persona. Alongside the Mannings, Faulkner has maintained a rich popularity that has withstanded time. During my four years, I had, of course, passed by Faulkner’s home, but had never gone inside — frat parties, sorority swaps, tailgating in The Grove and Rebel football games consumed me. So, I decided it was time to revisit the history that Faulkner had cultivated for himself.

As I took my first step onto the cedar-lined entrance of Faulkner’s home, known as Rowan Oak, his heritage oozed from the exquisitely landscaped 29 acres. Turning the gold-plated door knob to enter Faulkner’s Greek Revival compound, I began to gain a sense of warmth followed by a tinge of loneliness. Firmly placing my feet on the rickety, wood-stained floor, my

ered, red and slate brick fireplaces in each room. Traipsing through the Mississippi mansion, I beelined to Faulkner’s bedroom which showcased his Southern rugged roots with shotguns, a pair of scuffed up riding boots, deer antlers, empty cans of Dunhill My Mixture 965 tobacco and, of course, numerous bookshelves stacked with intellectually stimulating biographies and mysteries. Faulkner’s masculinity was in plain sight, but it was his dapper complex that was most appealing; the vanity in the middle of the room had his finely pressed striped ties draped over the corner of the mirror. It was then that I found myself in the author’s writing room, aka his sanctuary, which housed his pride and joy — an Underwood typewriter (the sounds of clicking keys began resonating through

wiLLiaM took to the waLLS of hiS office to PLot the outLine of hiS PuLitzer Prize-winning noveL “the fabLe,”

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senses sharpened to smells of snuff, whiskey and old books. With much intrigue, I explored every inch of the simplistic, yet refined antebellum manor which was adorned with handsome portraits of the novelist, embellished with paisley wallpaper and complemented with soot-cov-

The walls of Faulkner’s office. my head as I envisioned Faulkner creating one of his many thrilling fictions). Reminiscent of a young child first learning how to draw, he took to the walls of his office to plot the outline of his Pulitzer Prize-winning novel “A Fable,” as each white wall was inscribed with graphite pencil. Within widely known novels such as “The Sound and the Fury,” “As I Lay Dying”, “The Hamlet” and “Requiem for a Nun,” Faulkner has rendered riveting themes of Southern aristocracy, modernism, runaway slaves and white supremacy, encompassed by a dark style of writing that captures emotion while maintaining a captivating complexity. Underneath his finely groomed white mustache was a hidden degree of fury and angst. After the loss of his daughter, Al-

abama, who was born prematurely, and the death of his brother, Dean, who was killed in a plane crash, and with barely enough money to afford a cheap bottle of liquor, Faulkner found refuge in a state of inebriation. Clinging his lips to bottles of alcohol and drinking until he had blacked out, Faulkner’s alcoholism began to spiral out of control. In an effort to maintain a long-lasting buzz, he even took up the reins of his horse to avoid getting a D.U.I. when riding into town. Though a very savvy drunk that some would guess would pass away from liver failure, Faulkner ultimately suffered a heart attack on July 6, 1962 at the age of 64. Framed on the wall of Rowan Oak was a quote that stated: “Writing is a solitary job — that is, nobody can help you

with it, but there’s nothing lonely about it. I have always been too busy, too immersed in what I was doing, either mad at it or laughing at it to have time to wonder whether I was lonely or not lonely. It’s simply solitary. I think there is a difference between loneliness and solitude.” I walked across the withered leaves that covered St. Peter’s Cemetery and approached Faulkner’s tombstone, which of course, in true badass form, was adorned with half-drunk bottles of Colt 45, Jack Daniel’s and Fireball whiskey left from the Hotty Toddy yellin’ rebels that just graduated from the University — (for those of you who didn’t get the chance to attend Ole Miss, it is a running tradition to take a shot on Faulkner’s grave on graduation day).

As I took a moment to pay my graces to the deceased author, I understood that it is inevitable that his presence in Misssissippi still reigns supreme, but his ability to captivate with the written word extends beyond the southern soil. PRE-SPRING 2014

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Pas de Deux (S t ep s o f Two)

Power couples explore the dance of balancing work and love. Power — a word that evokes feelings of dominance and force — is not often juxtaposed with the sweet, soft, nurturing comfort of the term couple. Society dictates that you can’t have it all. You can slave away at the office, and through blood, sweat and a few tears see your career goals realized. Or you can opt for a simple, steady-paced job, and settle into quietude with the love of your life by your side. Either. Or. These five couples have taken it upon themselves to delve into the world of “both.” To shun the “eithers” and the “ors” and only settle for “and.” They’ve found a way to dominate in their own respective fields while never shutting the door on what their hearts truly pump for: love.

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Brian May Erin May

Story by CHRISTINA MONTFORD Photography by BRIANNA ROTH

A business venture, a wager and a good ol' fashioned glass of bourbon. That and a little fate is what brought Brian May, creative director of MayCreate Idea Group, a premier Chattanooga advertising and digital agency, to his soul-mate, wife and business partner Erin May. It’s strange to imagine that the current co-founders of both Maycreate and Us + U iPad accessories didn’t instantly fall in love. “Initially she didn’t like me,” Brian says. “I think it’s because I yelled and hung up on her boss at the time. I think that was the first time she’d had anybody show her you can stand for what you believe in.” Despite a rocky start in their business relationship, Erin finally saw a softer side to her soon-to-be beau after stumbling upon some paintings that he had done years prior. Being a former art history major herself who is currently responsible for establishing listings for over 100 houses and commercial buildings on the National Registry of Historic places, Brian struck gold by appealing to her inner art connoisseur. Erin finally allowed Brian to take her on a date. “She drank bourbon the first night we went out,” Brian says laughing. “I thought that was pretty cool.” Brian, a very “go with your gut” type of guy, knew from one of their initial outings she was the one he wanted to grow old with. “After our first lunch date I came back and told one of the guys that worked for me that was who I’m going to marry,” Brian says. “He bet me 50 bucks that it wasn’t going to happen. He still owes me the 50,” he says with a wink.

Where most couples would falter, Brian and Erin thrive. They are together 24 hours a day, almost seven days a week, and they couldn’t be happier. Morning rides to work filled with discussions of the day ahead, and trips home in the evening injected with murmurs about the days’ gripes in between sweet nothings, are what keep this couple going. A running theme of their advertising company is to “burn the box — it’s the only way to ensure you’ll never get back in it.” Brian and Erin apply this never-get-stuck-in-a-rut attitude to their relationship as well. “We always want to be spontaneous,” Erin says. “I’ve become a lot more comfortable with risk. I had to learn to trust him.” Fiery, spontaneous and balls-tothe-wall intense, Brian contrasts Erin’s calm, nurturing and sensible business approach. But like magnets, their differences act as a glue to keep them together, rather than a wedge. After 10 years of marriage, it’s hard for either to imagine life any other way. “It’s not perfect,” Brian admits. “We still have our ups and downs, but I can’t think of not being married. It’s just knowing that someone has my back no matter what I’ve done; I always know she’s there and doesn’t judge me and she’s not going to disown me if I make a mistake.” “Just having someone that knows you more than you think anyone could ever know you,” Erin says as her eyes well up. “So you don’t really have to step up and explain yourself or say if something’s wrong. They just know.”

“We always want to be spontaneous. I’ve become a lot more comfortable with risk. I had to learn to trust him.”

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& Jeremy Brown Zara Sky

Story by COURTNEY FOSTER Photography by MAX EREMINE Photography Assistant: CHARLIE WATTS

"We're writing our own book. We are writing our own story and not necessarily following traditional paths and whatnot,” Jeremy Brown says, looking at girlfriend Zara Sky. That book is a pretty open one. Jeremy, an artist and entrepreneur, is perhaps best known for his LOVE IS ART kit, a package equipped with a large canvas and non-toxic paints that allow couples to create abstract art while making love. (It even comes complete with a body scrubber for post-intimacy cleaning.) The couple has put their own piece of art on display at charitable exhibits for the brand. Zara, on the other hand, has been continuing her road to stardom, performing all over the country and producing beautiful songs such as “Hanging onto Nothing,” “So in Love” and “Tear Down the Gates of Heaven,” which was inspired by Jeremy. “I’ll just do whatever it takes to make it work and for you to know how I feel,” Zara explains about the message of the song. “Because in any relationship … it’s not perfect and there are doubts. No matter how confident you are, there are gonna be doubts, you know ‘Does he like me? Does she like me?’ So the song is basically saying surrender your doubts ... I feel the way that I feel and you don’t have to be afraid.” Upon first glance, they’re simply

one of the sexiest couples, period. Jeremy, with tattoos that peak from underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt, has a subtle nose piercing and stylish side-swept hair; Zara, with acoustic guitar in hand, is the picture of a burgeoning rockstar with flowing brunette locks and the perfect cat-eye lining her warm, almond-shaped eyes. Their soft-spoken demeanors contrast this exterior view, however, and the fiery gaze between them is magnetic. Having been set up by a mutual friend, Jeremy first took to social media to find out more about Zara and read on her profile, “if you really want to know, just ask me out for coffee.” Their first date was, fittingly, at a coffee shop (at 7 a.m. before a flight she had to catch to San Diego). Now having been together for two years, Jeremy and Zara have cultivated a relationship that has brought a force of inspiration to both of their careers and artistic expressions. “So, it’s like love … unconditional love is an art because it takes time and dedication. You have to be conscious of it and put forth effort,” Jeremy explains. “With art, an artist has to put forth effort into making that sculpture or painting or whatever it is, and I feel it’s the same with love. You have to spend time and dedicate time.”

“... unconditional love is an art because it takes time and dedication. You have to be conscious of it and put forth effort.” PRE-SPRING 2014

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Seth Woodard-Persily Nathan Woodard-Persily Story by JAIME LIN WEINSTEIN Photography by MAX EREMINE

The expression opposites attract has been debated for centuries, but Nathan and Seth Woodard-Persily may prove the old adage to be true. While they’re certainly not complete opposites, some divergent qualities are obvious (like the Christmas decorations lining the roof of their Midtown Atlanta home and the mezuzah nailed to the doorframe below). Seth appears to be your typical Long Island Jew, though calm in demeanor, while Nathan — a self-described “recovering Southern Baptist” who grew up in Georgia — walks and talks a bit faster. But together, they seem like the perfect pair. Any differences are void of conflict, and their bond appears, in a word, effortless. When the couple met eight years ago it was, to cite another romantic trope, “love at first sight.” Well, maybe not love, “but there was definitely a very strong, mutual interest at first sight,” Seth clarifies. Today, they are married (“Georgia won’t recognize it, but we recognize it,” Seth explains) with twin 4 ½-year-old daughters (who happen to be opposites themselves — Brittany the “daredevil,” as witnessed by her treating the couch like a jungle gym during the interview, and Caitlin, the “princess,” dressed in a tutu and pink heels, posing for the camera at every opportunity) and two businesses. Seth, a Harvard Law graduate, currently owns Penn Multimedia, an online marketing firm, and Nathan, a former accountant, is the co-owner of Look Young Atlanta, a spa that features everything from laser hair removal and skin treatments to injectables and weight-loss programs. They each are also very involved in gay rights activism: Nathan is on the leadership council for

GLAAD and spends a lot of time helping them with fundraisers. Seth has sat on the boards of a host of organizations as well, including Georgia Equality and Youth Pride, and is currently volunteering with a homeless shelter that works with gay youth. Their key to a successful relationship amidst charities, careers and kids? “We’re both flexible, which is good. We can work from either place (the office or home) … and we both kind of create a work life that has flexibility,” Nathan says. “Yeah, relationships are difficult, especially when both parents or both people in the relationship work. It can be very difficult so having a supportive community is really important,” adds Seth. The Woodard-Persily’s (“Mine is hyphenated. Well, whose is hyphenated?” Nathan asks when questioned about the decision to share last names. “Yeah, it’s hyphenated,” Seth laughs in reply. “We keep changing it. We don’t know.”) also live by a veto philosophy. “Either of us have a veto power. Basically unless we both agree, it’s off the table,” Nathan says. “Something as simple as buying a piece of art — if he’s in love with it but I’m not, we agree that the answer is no,” Seth explains. “Sometimes we make less progress than we would like to with things that we want to do, but it keeps the fighting to a minimum.” As for the future: “We just want to be grandparents,” Seth says immediately. “Yeah, grandkids,” Nathan agrees. No veto necessary.

“Either of us have a veto power. Basically unless we both agree, it's off the table.”

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& John Romano Grace Lee

Story by GINA YU Photography by MAX EREMINE Photography Assistant: VIRGINIA LIN Makeup by NAT BROWN Hair by KYAIRA BROWN, HAIR FIRM OF HOLLYWOOD

Grace Lee is a picture of comfort and ease next to fiancé John Romano. Known as a jetsetting power couple across Atlanta, the tanned duo laugh about their love of quiet times and spending New Year’s Eve with nothing but Netflix and each other as company. Grace, a former food blogger and competitive eater (Yes, competitive eater. She was even sponsored the first year Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Competition had a women’s division.) currently owns Atlanta Cuban restaurant Cruzado and hookah bar Hookah Cru. John is originally from Trinidad and Tobago but grew up in Asia for most of his life. He came to the United States to play soccer for Elon University in North Carolina and currently oversees the urban market for Heineken in Atlanta, working over 80 clubs and festivals including Music Midtown. Socializing is a part of their jobs, so they make a conscious effort to allow their personal lives to have a little less noise and more simplicity. “We just realized our lives are so public, so in our off-time and quality time, it’s actually the complete opposite,” Grace explains. “We just like to be together, quiet and watching movies, ordering Thai food, pizza, sushi, whatever.” The two met through a mutual friend while watching a soccer game at a local tavern; they happened to sit next to each other, and that was it. Their first date was that same week. John and Grace have been together for

four years now and have an agreement to spend at least one day a week with one another, and at least one meal. “It’s weird, because there’s no system to balancing. It just works for us,” John says. “The thing is, with my job there’s more flexibility than her job, so I hold down the house completely.” Unlike couples with 9-to-5 schedules that can see each other daily, structure isn’t the solution. “I mean, the industry that Grace is in is probably one of the most demanding, so at times it can be very taxing ... But for me, I know long-term that it’s going to be so beneficial for her and that I would regret if I wasn’t a part of the journey. For me, as a unit, that’s my commitment to her.” Grace, in return, asks John for his blessing with every business venture, knowing how challenging it can be. Grace explains with tears in her eyes, “It’s just never that simple … at least for us, our challenges are never because there’s a lack of love. It’s all the other stuff ... The love has never been lackluster. It’s the rest of life that is the challenge,” she says. “You got some real tears there,” John teases, looking at Grace. “I think that what I’ve learned the most from our relationship and transitioning into our 30s,” she continues, “whether you’ve been married for 10 years or whether you’re single, it’s never a single answer, it’s never as simple as just love.”

“The love has never been lackluster. It’s the rest of life that is the challenge.”

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Brian Froehling Cassandra Connors Story by ALEX TAYLOR Photography by MAX EREMINE

Cassandra Connors (Casey), and Brian Froehling speak the same comedic language, making it easy for them to play off each other's humor and sarcasm. Considering what makes their relationship unconventional or unique Brian says, “Well, probably the biggest thing is that Casey’s into S&M.” “We’re swingers,” Casey jests without missing a beat. But there’s an undertone of sincerity woven through their lives. Sitting next to Casey’s desktop computer in her home office lies a horizontal strip of paper with cursive writing on it and two small, dried roses. The note reads: “Your beautiful smile always puts me in a better mood.” Before Brian embarked on a two-week-long business trip, he left little notes around the house for Casey to find, including this one. As for the roses, they are from their wedding this past December. They rarely spend time apart — “People ask me how do you spend that much time together. I don’t know, but we do,” Casey says. Their relationship is brought together by love, marriage, their beautiful 11-month-old daughter, Leah, and business, as well. In 2012, they became partners in Casey’s company Bella Bag, one of the largest retailers of used and pre-owned designer handbags in the country (that even supplies bags to online heavy-hitters like Rue La La and Gilt Groupe). It’s not a stretch for the newlyweds. They both scratched the ‘entrepreneurial itch’ at a young age. Brian could be considered one of the great 6-year-old entrepreneurs of our time. When the rest of his cohort was working lemonade stands, he was busy selling the seeds from palm trees in his Ocala, Fla. neigh-

borhood. Today, the Harvard Business School graduate is better known as one of the youngest directors of sales for the security software corporation Symantec, overseeing a team that manages relationships with Fortune 500 clients in the southeast. Before he started dating Casey, he and acclaimed sports psychologist Gio Valiante founded Fearless Golf, a conditioning program that helps golfers with their “mental game.” As a partner in Bella Bag, he has helped the company expand its market reach with e-commerce, retail and wholesale strategy. “Casey always knew how to present our product in the most attractive light,” Brian says. “She didn’t always understand the way companies and consumers wanted to buy.” Casey also felt that she was destined for success at a young age. “I would have told you I was going to win an Oscar,” she says. “And nobody was going to stand in my way, and now that’s just so far from my reality.” Instead, she has made her mark in the fashion industry with her high-end resellables, estimated to bring in $10 million this year. In business and love, Casey has learned “to be open minded to what you don’t know,” while Brian tries to not “get bogged down in a lot of the details.” Currently residing in Atlanta with Leah and two goldendoodles, Gigi and Dexter, the couple says they “can’t pretend to know” where they will be in 10 years, except for the fact that they will have an 11-year-old daughter.

“People ask me how do you spend that much time together ... but we do.”

PRE-SPRING 2014

SOCIETY

AN ALCHEMIST’S GUIDE TO THE KITCHEN

Story by LAUREN LADOV Photography by CHARLIE WATTS

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and trickling waterways. Golden Lane is y first kitchen was a small, a row of miniature houses glued into the rectangular inlet in a beige, side of Prague Castle. Under the reign university dorm — a space so of Rudolf II, alchemists inhabited these narrow, I couldn’t open the dwarf-like dwellings, ordered to spend each refrigerator door all the way. With cheap waking moment researching the creation tiling and an electric stovetop, it’s no surof gold and the elixir of life. (Much later, prise the other students in my hall preferred Franz Kafka also lived here, and though his the prepackaged grab-and-go meals from life’s work didn’t produce physical elixirs, the downstairs café or nearby fast-food esKafka’s legacy is undoubtedly in debt to the tablishments. But for me, this grimy little nature of alchemy.) studio became my beginner’s lab for experDuring the Scientific Revolution and iments in alchemy. the Enlightenment era, alchemists saw In my alchemical kitchen experiments, more ridicule. Passed off as purveyors no deep-hued “philosopher’s stone” ever surof farce and illogical fanatics, alchemists faced from a bubbling saucepan. But a fasgained a sullied reputation worldwide. cination of this ancient practice, the transYet, their efforts actually inspired and augmutation of simple objects, bubbled inside mented the progress in the sciences of the my mind: How four mealy apples become time. Their experiincredibly comfortments and writings ing applesauce. How THOSE WHO MOCKED were central to the whisking two eggs AND DISCREDITED THE study of modern-day into a sizzling pan generwith a few pantry PRACTICE NEVER SAW chemistry: ating primary conherbs leads to the THE BIG PICTURE ceptions of periodic most satisfying breaktables, methods of fast. How smashing a ore extraction and the processes to produce few soft spuds together with cream creates many inorganic acids and bases. scrumptiousness only grandmas are thought Those who mocked and discredited capable of achieving. this practice never saw the big picture. It I wondered how such common, dull obis essential to understand alchemy beyond jects became products of great value. Beyond material gain. Entrenched in the human the chemical reactions, there is something capacity to comprehend and interact with else happening in the equation. the laws of nature, alchemy strives toward This strange interest in alchemy all beperfection in terms of redemption, imgan with a visit to Prague, a city whose ormortality and the transformation of the nate facades and rich aesthetics mirror the human soul. The pursuit of panaceas symimages of Grimm’s fairy tales. Mesmerized bolizes the alchemist’s personal evolution upon arrival, I wandered the serpentine from a flawed and ephemeral state toward streets with utter curiosity. Among every a healthy and everlasting one. On the path turn, a legend lurks: defenestrations, revoto transform physical substance, the real lutions urged by rock ‘n’ roll skulking gotransformation happens within the alchelems. One road in particular seems to act as mist — a transmutation of the soul to cona central valve, flowing mysteries to the ennect with the higher spirit. tire city by the veins of cobblestone cracks

PRE-SPRING 2014

FIVE STEPS TO ADD A LITTLE ALCHEMY TO YOUR KITCHEN

1. COMPREHEND “YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT” The popular saying holds an eternal and edible truth. Not only can the brain in our heads prove this if we calculate the activity of the body’s cells, but the brain in our stomach agrees. If you’ve ever experimented with diets, like eliminating meat or gluten from your daily consumption, your body reacts as it digests the new consumption pattern. The more nutrient-dense food you consume, the better your body and brain will function. Conversely, as you eat more junk food, your body and brain become more sluggish as unnecessary adipose tissues take up space and energy. In addition to how we physically operate in the world, what we eat also represents our cultural identity. In a socioeconomic sense, food patterns illustrate levels of access and personal empowerment. In a cultural lens, these patterns present strengths of religious and traditional culture. Every year, my taste buds crave and celebrate latkes, bagels and even gefilte fish. I grew up on these foods, and their symbolism and ritual will always resonate positive associations and meaning. In several senses, I am these foods, and my continuous consumption of them differentiates me from others.

2. NOURISH PERFECTION The alchemist’s pursuit of gold, or his “philosopher’s stone,” stems from a desire for perfection. The art of alchemy seeks to liberate parts of the cosmos from temporal existence, which in terms of metal means gold (the element resists corrosion and most chemical reactions). In terms of man, this means longevity, immortality and spiritual redemption. For the kitchen, what does this perfection mean? On a physical level, it is advancement of health for the self and others. Attempt to create substances free of harmful chemicals. Use clean products and foods that nourish with nutrients. As you bring a higher awareness to your consumption, you shall actively seek that which makes you feel good inside and out. On a conceptual and species level, it is the defiance of temporal existence. If we can liberate ourselves from linear notations of time, we could see the world move in a circular fashion. Eastern thought achieves this through the practice of meditation, which unfetters the body from the self, breaking the bond to our earthbound consciousnesses. And in the alchemical kitchen, this can be achieved by using recipes from passed-down traditions, summoning the past to create a food in the present which will, in turn, produce new food memories. The circle forever spinning.

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3. APPRECIATE THE ELEMENTS

5. SEEING THE MANDALA

We often forget about the elements as we continue to move our lives indoors with modern conveniences. Yet, we are always interacting with them — the central heating, the water pipes, the air control system, the floor beneath our feet; everything around us, every form and body, emanates from these four essential elements. The elements all possess particular energies and thus form specific patterns when they interact with one another. Symbolically, we can correlate these interactions to the patterns of change happening in the world. This concept stems from the I Ching, “The Book of Changes,” one of the oldest of the Chinese canonical texts. Used as a tool for divinations, the I Ching, like tarot cards, proposes a limited set of possibilities and symbols illustrating insight to the future. The I Ching’s possibilities are based on the interpretations of elements’ interactions. What happens on both a physical and symbolic level when fire interacts with water? Or earth with wind? The kitchen is the perfect facility to observe the nature of these elements. For instance, bring awareness to the simple act of washing your vegetables. This interaction of water with earth not only cleans, but cleanses as you watch the muddied, hazy waters become clearer.

The mandala is a sacred universal symbol, appearing throughout the world’s cultures. A simple sign illustrating the squaring of a circle signifies a microcosm of the universe, or the cosmos as a whole. The act of creating the sign is part of meditative practices where its finished depiction establishes a sacred space. We recognize this symbol as evidence of our interconnectedness, the collective unconscious, the “something” that binds all of humanity together and distinguishes us as a species. With each shared meal, I urge you to see the mandala present: The food sits at the middle of the table, its steam rising to the ceiling in quiet swirls. Portions of the food are divided onto plates, situated around a table. The eaters sit behind each plate, with the body’s five senses so activated. All bodies seeing, smelling, tasting, touching, hearing the food they are eating. Within the synchronized experience of the meal, a circular force connects each eater. The table’s circle is squared by the room’s four corners and also by the foundation of the house itself. This shared meal can resonate as a meditative act and establish the hearth of the house as a sacred space.

4. EMBRACE THE ESSENCE OF EXPERIMENTATION Ask impossible questions to ignite innovation. By striving for perfection, alchemists have failed quite a bit. Their work was purely experimentation, as none of them lived after creating the philosopher’s stone. Welcome food failures as you would successes. Burning the biscuits is not the end of the world. Why did the biscuits burn? Was it out of distraction, or is the oven trying to tell you something? Even though you may have made them perfectly 100 times, the 101st time will still be a completely new experience with fresh materials and new elements in the air. Embrace the errors in chance; they may just lead to perfection.

PRE-SPRING 2014

SOCIETY

ALICE WATERS

SAVES THE WORLD O N E M E A L AT A T I M E

Story by GINA YU

Don’t get me wrong. I love Julia Child.

’ve dressed up as the woman for Halloween for goodness’ sake (yes, pearls, apron and all). I own “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” and have read pretty much every book about her. I’ve seen Julie & Julia, in which Julie finds out that Julia actually disapproved of her entire project in homage to Miss Child herself, which explains my throat-clenching, toe-curling, bone-chilling trepidation, intimidation and hesitation in attempting to convince you there is a person that may deserve your attention slightly more than Julia.

Meet Alice Waters. The foodie before all foodies; mother of the local and organic movement; founder of the Edible Schoolyard; and overall culinary and humanitarian icon.

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aters founded and now partially owns Chez Panisse in Berkeley, Ca. It was named Best Restaurant in America by Gourmet Magazine in 2004. Oh, and it’s also been awarded a Michelin star (one of the highest culinary honors in the world). Waters has written 14 books, including the recently published “The Art of Simple Food II.” And it doesn’t stop there. She has transformed the way that Americans talk and think about food in a big way. And began advocating for local food before terms like “organic” held any weight. As Slow Food’s international vice president, she brings attention to environmental sustainability, farms and the economic effects of locavorism — something that has caught the regard of the Obamas, the Clintons, Prince Charles and the Dalai Lama. In decades of campaigning, Waters has shown that food is not only important to daily life, but it is an instrument for good. Food really is a political statement, and it can bring change. Believing in the “basic human right” for children to have access to healthy lunches, Waters designed the Edible Schoolyard, a hands-on public education program that involves students in all factors of the food cycle. Over 2,000 schools in the United States and 29 countries have now adopted her original model. The program has led to Waters’ nationally recognized School Lunch Initiative, proving that when students engage in planting, harvesting and cooking their own food, they are more likely to eat it. We interviewed the legend about her work, her family and of course, her favorite foods. Eidé Magazine: So Alice, what inspired you to create Chez Panisse? Alice Waters: My vision for Chez Panisse came while studying in France when I was 19. France really changed my life forever — I recognized a culture that cared about food, about what went on the table, about celebrating where it came from. It was a way of life that I immediately understood. I wanted to recreate that way of life back home. I didn’t realize it would be a restaurant. But I began to cook all the time — more and more — inviting friends over for dinner. People brought ingredients that they had foraged that day; it became a real happening. PRE-SPRING 2014

EM: And what inspired you to create the Edible Schoolyard? AW: Before opening Chez Panisse I taught as a Montessori teacher for two years. Teaching Maria Montessori’s ideas about nourishing the whole child really resonated with me. It wasn’t until my own daughter, Fanny, was in school that I realized how poorly children were being fed in our schools. It wasn’t until years later that my experience as a Montessori teacher and my passion for simple food came together to create the Edible Schoolyard at Martin Luther King middle school in Berkeley. EM: Many people are skeptical of the costs of local and sustainable eating habits, saying that it is not realistic for most. What do you think about that? AW: Food should not and cannot be cheap. This is a misconception that was introduced by fast food culture. I believe that if food is cheap somebody is losing out — the farmers, the people who care for the land. Now, food can be affordable, but it can never be cheap, unless it is subsidized in some way by the government. Big, multinational food companies make their money by convincing more people to buy cheap food. It’s quantity, not quality ... When you buy something really cheap you can't help but feel that anything at the

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farmers market is expensive. We are being taught not to question this. EM: Who do you align your aspirations with? AW: Today I align my aspirations with Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor. Her focus and passion for the overall health and nourishment of our children aligns with my vision for the Edible Schoolyard project. She is one of the most compassionate and honest people I have ever had the honor of meeting. EM: Could you share a memorable moment you had with your parents growing up that contributed to your current goals? AW: Growing up in New Jersey my parents had a victory garden. I remember picking fresh strawberries from the garden, the taste, the smell … it reminds me of summer. I still believe in using only seasonal ingredients. EM: At the end of the day, what is your favorite thing to eat? To cook? AW: My favorite thing to eat is also my favorite thing to cook! I like to cook chicken over the open fire, served alongside sautéed greens with lots of garlic and olive oil … I also love a simple garden lettuce salad dressed in shallot vinaigrette.

EM: How do you manage to balance owning a restaurant, running a food education campaign and having a family? AW: I always take a walk in the morning, and I always sit down to dinner at night. I feel strongly that you have to care about the people you work with — we consider everyone at Chez Panisse and the Edible Schoolyard family — la famille Panisse! This community helps me everyday. EM: After all of your efforts, if you were to be known for one idea or action, what would it be? AW: Helping to transform public education in America by feeding children nourishing food from local, sustainable farmers. EM: If you were a food, what would you be? AW: A luscious tomato. EM: If you could invite any five people to dinner (dead or alive, real or fictional) who would they be? AW: Wendell Berry, Orville Schell, Carlo Petrini, Lulu Peyraud and Nina Simone. EM: Any last thoughts, musings or advice you would like to share? AW: Shop at your local farmers market and cook with your kids!

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SOCIETY

A LOVE STORY Story by JOANNA BERLINER | Illustration by LAUREN FOSTER and J.G. GINSBURG

PRE-SPRING 2014

So when the psychic told me, with great to-do, that I should never go on a motorcycle or something bad would certainly happen, I didn’t think twice. I listened. Two decades later, I still haven’t mounted that motorcycle. Or even sat on its seat in the parking lot. I would love to say there is a concrete and scientifically backed reason behind this. But there isn’t. I simply cannot fathom the idea that maybe, just maybe, that psychic was right.

THE LOVERS: VI We met late night at a bar back in college. Instant connection, in that hazy three-vodka-sodas kind of way, where suddenly it feels like the stars of Romeo and Juliet align. I was “between boyfriends,” as my friends often called it. And he talked Faulkner (Absalom! Absalom!), gesturing with his Sam Adams Summer Ale in a way that made me homesick for New England. This, I told myself, is what it feels like when you meet your soulmate. Then he mentioned his motorcycle. I left and never saw him again.

THE MAGICIAN: I I blame the psychic. It all started when I was 10. My grandmother passed, and my mother, hoping to heal, reached out to the psychic community to reconnect. To be honest, I didn’t care about reconnecting. I just liked sitting next to my mother, holed up in our psychic’s little Provincetown bungalow, waiting to get glimpses into my soul. What I did in a past life (ride horses in England). What I’d do in the future (write and one day get married — but not until I’d gone through my fair share of boyfriends). It was every child’s dream, to be able to accurately answer that very adult question: What are you going to be when you grow up? And I knew all the answers.

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WHEEL OF FORTUNE: X The psychic game continued. During a middle-school birthday party that took place in the attic, where we hired a woman to read tarot cards – The Fool, The Tower, The Hermit – and recorded the reading on cassette tapes. Then during one blowout costume party for the adults. “Upstairs you go,” my mother ordered, and we scurried to the top of the stairwell and watched as the guests paraded in, dressed as what they thought they were in a past life: A figure from a drugstore Harlequin romance. A certain Mr. Darcy. A man dressed in a trench who walked through the door, opened his coat and flashed the entire party. Our Provincetown psychic sat like some ancient seer by the fireplace and dished out the night’s gossip: predictions of what guests actually were in a past life. I, riding hat snapped around my chin, stayed up the night and listened to every last word.

THE WORLD: XXI It wasn’t always such an odd thing. Psychics have had a firm place in history since before Christianity, when they advised ancient Greek and Egyptian royalty — even deciding the fates of criminals. When monotheistic religion came into play, they became the criminals themselves. So-called worshipers of Satan. But that didn’t stop 16th-century French physician Nostradamus from publishing over 1,000 psychic predictions. At least half of these predictions have proven true — including an eerie callout to three “Antichrists” who would one day terrorize society. Napoleon. Hitler. Saddam Hussein. Nostradamus described them, in succinct quatrains, with remarkable accuracy. The emperor “born near Italy” who “shall be found less a prince than a butcher.” “The great enemy of the human race,” born “out

of the deepest part of the west of Europe.” The “strong master of Mohammad … the terror of mankind.” Of course, I knew none of this history until quite recently. Literally, none of it. My mother and I never discussed the larger world of psychics. We didn’t care that there was a man named Nostradamus spouting miraculous predictions 500 years ago. Nor did we make rash, ridiculous choices based on our Sunday afternoon takes to the Ouija board — although we did take to it. Our relationship with that in-between world was casual, uncomplicated and (best of all) fun. At least, for a time.

JUDGEMENT: XX After college, faced finally with real-world problems, I once again craved answers — the kind that our Provincetown psychic used to be able to provide with such ease. I joined a start-up, then lost my job when the entire company went under. I landed a job at another start-up that went under, again, less than a year later. Ironically, both were for daily deal sites that sold vouchers for a small, psychic tearoom. After each layoff, I’d buy a voucher, pop in and wait for the answers to come. But they never did. One psychic urged me to quit my job and work in retail. “An old-lady store, like Talbots,” she suggested. “To work on your intuition.” (Intuit this, please: I had no job.) Another — just several months after I landed my dream position — pulled a card from the deck and paused. “Are you looking to move? Because your current job will come to a finite end in October.” Perhaps to his chagrin, I’m still happily employed. Most recently, the final straw — the last card pulled with flourish: the thirteenth trump. A skeleton, crouched, sickle in hand. The Death card. “Your mother,” the psychic said. Then looked at his watch, gave me his card and ushered me out of the room.

Death card did not mean death. At least not typically. Instead, it meant transformation — deep-rooted and trying. In fact, predicting physical death is deeply frowned upon in the psychic community. What he should have explained to me, after he pulled the card, is that my mother wasn’t about to ride off with that sickle-armed skeleton. She wouldn’t be swooped up by some sort of Dickinsonian personification or paraded across the river Styx, or even, more realistically, sequestered in a hospital bed. She would simply be tested. And I could live with that.

THE FOOL: 0 It was the first time I thought hard about the truth. I discovered Nostradamus. I read of a pair of psychic twins who allegedly predicted the Oklahoma City bombing. I scanned article after article on clairvoyant fraud, even watched “Long Island Medium.” (Yes, but never again.) And after weeks glued to the flicker of the LCD screen, I emerged, no better off than I started. Because, you see, it wasn’t like it was back in middle school — not that anything truly is. But this was a whole new psychic realm. The readers I frequented after college had access to my real name. My email address. The giant world of Internet search engines and social media. Google my name and you instantly know I work as a fashion editor. Take one step deeper, and I’m New England-born. Two more clicks and you have my family tree. I’m not saying it’s fake. Like God, you can point to all the signs, but never prove them. I’m just saying that I can no longer relax into a reading. I no longer find them therapeutic — or even, like they used to be, simply fun. The magic is gone.

DEATH: XIII It took me three days to Google the Death card and another three weeks to reach out to a friend. Call it paranoia, denial, whatever. I was afraid that if I spoke it out loud (Death card, Death card, Death card), my mother would somehow vanish into thin air. Contact a freakish disease. Fall out of my life. But all sources pointed in the same direction: The

But I know this: no matter where I land, there is still nothing you can do to convince me to get on that motorcycle.

PRE-SPRING 2014

A MILLION LITTLE

Photography by RUSSELL DREYER Styling by TIAN JUSTMAN Model: MADISON OLSEN (Factor Atlanta) Makeup by ERICA BOGART Hair Styling by JAIDEN SMITHSON Lead Photography Assistant: DRUE DUN Secondary Photography Assistant: SEAN YOUNG Stylist Assistant: DARICKA WALTON Shot on location at HOWARD FINSTER’S PARADISE GARDEN in Summerville, Ga.

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NC E UPON A T RUE STORY

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W H EN I T CO M E S TO FA I RY TA LE S ,

T H ER E ' S N O S U C H T H I N G A S A H A P P Y EN D I N G .

Modern fairy tales have taught us that where there is a damsel in distress, there is a prince to rescue her and sweep her off her feet. And where there is a gruesome beast, there is a kind-hearted girl to see his inner beauty. Villains are conquered, ugly ducklings become swans and the characters do, indeed, live “happily ever after.” The first fairy tales were written for adults, not children (we have the Brothers Grimm mainly to thank for taming the tales and ridding them of much of the “adult” content), and served as entertainment in times when “Game of Thrones”

wasn’t available on HBO. Born from the oral tradition of storytelling, historians have yet to determine the exact origins of many of the stories we know all too well in the modern age. Today’s book-bound folklore has evolved over centuries, transmitted and changed before they ever met pen and paper. We assume you know the perceptions, so we’re filling in the realities. Whether they began as mere fables or were molded after the lives of real people, the truth behind these four stories that once rocked you to sleep will keep you up for nights.

Photography by CHARLIE WATTS | Model: DEVYN (CLICK Atlanta) Makeup by COURTNEY GOWER of The Green Room Agency | Hair Styling by ALICIA IGESS of The Green Room Agency Production Assistance by AVI GELFOND and TOVA GELFOND Clothing available at MIZ SCARLETT’S and LOVEANDAMBITION.COM. PRE-SPRING 2014

“ B U T G R E T EL R A N AWAY, A N D T H E G O D LES S W I T C H B U R N ED U P M I S ER A B LY. ”

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H A N S EL A N D G R E T EL

If you haven’t gone back and read this bedtime story since you were in Pull-Ups, it’s probably time to give it another look. You’ll see it’s seriously messed up, even in the made-for-kids version. The story is about two children whose parents want to take them out into the woods and leave them there because they’re too poor to feed them. The mother in the tale says, “Early tomorrow morning we will take the two children out into the thickest part of the woods, make a fire for them and give each of them a little piece of bread, then leave them by themselves and go off to our work. They will not find their way back home, and we will be rid of them.” But it gets worse. This story is about cannibalism. After facing abandonment in the woods by their parents, the two survive only to get trapped in a house made of gingerbread by a witch who wants to eat them. Cunning prevails, and they escape, but they’re going to need serious therapy for the rest of their lives. It is said that the Grimm brothers first heard this tale from Henriette Dorothea Wild, who grew up next to the brothers and later married Wilhem (the younger Grimm). But what’s disturbing is that the factual basis of this lore might be on par with this retell-

ing. Although many details allude to a mixture of several different European tales (like a manuscript in the 14th century that speaks of a house made of sugar), Hansel and Gretel is said to have originated during the time of the Great Famine of 1315. Agricultural problems led to widespread crop failures, and the price of wheat skyrocketed some 300 percent. Over the course of two cold and difficult years, starvation and death throughout Europe followed suit, dropping the life expectancy to 30 years. The serious lack of resources caused families to actually abandon their children and even resort to cannibalism. Another theory, however, is that the story is based on a real woman named Katharina Schraderin, a German baker from the 1600s who was the Little Debbie of her time. Her gingerbread cookies were considered Cronuts of the ages, and she was a rising culinary star. A jealous competing baker by the name of Hans Metzler (as in Hansel) led a masterful propaganda campaign against Schraderin, chasing her out of town and proclaiming she was a witch. Her house was eventually burned, and she was killed; some say by a mob or by Hans and his sister named Grete. Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, indeed.

PRE-SPRING 2014

“ W H EN T H E P I P ER CA M E T O T H E DA R K RO C K , H E P L AY ED H I S P I P E EV EN L O U D ER S T I LL A N D A G R E AT D O O R C R E A K ED O P EN . B E YO N D L AY A CAV E . I N T RO O P ED T H E C H I LD R EN B EH I N D T H E P I ED P I P ER , A N D W H EN T H E L A S T C H I LD H A D G O N E I N T O T H E DA R K N ES S, T H E D O O R C R E A K ED S H U T. ”

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P I ED P I P ER

The award for most disturbing tale might have to go to this classic fable. It’s about greed, death and filth, however you slice it. That might even explain why Disney hasn’t touched this one yet. The story tells of the village of Hamelin that was terribly infested with rats. The piper, dressed in patchy, colorful or pied clothing, was called on his exterminator hotline to rid the town of vermin. So he played the pipe, leading the rats into the water, saving the town. But then no one wanted to pay. Clearly the piper didn’t have a decent collection service, so he decided to employ some mafia muscle himself to teach them a lesson. He played an especially sinister tune to lead all of the children out of Hamelin in the middle of the night to a cave to their deaths. But I guess the piper isn’t so bad since he left two children behind (the lame one and the blind one). But it’s probably because these two lucky duckies were physically unable to get up and run away. In the modern, glossy retellings, people typically add in a line saying the children were all freed in the end, but such optimism is nowhere to be found in the Grimm version. This legend is said to be about a real historical event — the loss of 130 children is actually found in the written records of Hamelin and states, “It is 100 years since our children left.” This inscription coincides with a stainedglass window built in the Church of

Hamelin in the 1300s, which illustrated a piper leading a flock of children out of the city (but has since been destroyed). As for the reason why the children left, well, that’s up for grabs. Conventional logic aligns this event with the bubonic plague, which claimed the lives of millions throughout Europe during that time. Let’s not forget that rats are infamous carriers of zoonotic disease. But there is also the Children’s Crusade to consider: a crusade where European Christians took it upon themselves to expel Muslims from the Holy Land around 1212. The movement, and a man named Nicholas of Cologne in Germany, are said to have recruited thousands of children to the cause who never returned home. Theorists have also blamed this mysterious disappearance on miscellaneous calamities like a landslide, a flood or the widespread social practice of selling children (since the area was overpopulated and inheriting land owners would leave younger family members in poverty). An interesting twist is a linguistic one. Some scholars have interpreted that the children were never actual children but rather a whole village, which was commonly referred to as the “Town Children.” This would support the idea that the phenomenon was just people emigrating to other parts of Europe.

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“ C I N D ER ELL A W EN T T O T H I S T R EE T H R EE T I M ES EV ERY DAY, A N D B EN E AT H I T S H E W EP T A N D P R AY ED. A W H I T E B I R D CA M E T O T H E T R EE EV ERY T I M E , A N D W H EN EV ER S H E EX P R ES S ED A W I S H , T H E B I R D WO U LD T H ROW D OW N T O H ER W H AT S H E H A D W I S H ED F O R . ”

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C I N D ER ELL A

Cinderella, with its singing mice, fairy godmother and spectacular wardrobe, is every gal’s rags-to-riches novelty tale. It’s easy to fall in love with a story based on laser beams of magical wand light and embarrassingly dumbed-down, Mean Girl variants of evil stepsisters when it doesn’t have an abhorrent use of violence. Not so much with the real saga. The earliest recorded version dates back to the ninth century in China and tells the story of Yeh-Shen (or Yeh-hsien), a young girl who escapes mistreatment from her sister and stepmother thanks to a magical fish and a pair of golden slippers. A lost slipper ultimately leads her to the prince; her stepmother and sister are stoned to death. Numerous other interpretations tell of Cinderella’s sisters who resort to self-mutilation in desperate attempts to fit into the slipper. Grimm’s tale takes this stance as well: “With her mother standing by, the older one took the shoe into her bedroom to try it on. She could not get her big toe into it, for the shoe was too small for her. Then her mother gave her a knife and said, ‘Cut off your toe. When you are queen you will no longer have to go on foot.’ The girl cut off her toe, forced her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain and went out to the prince ...” In the Germanic tale, as punishment for the stepfamily’s wicked ways, their eyes are pecked out by birds.

There is an oral tradition with this particular story that’s transcended different cultures, religions and eras — since this epic is so old, it has passed through generations of impoverished classes that could neither read nor write. There are a reported 700 versions of this tale (not including one with Hillary Duff) criss-crossed over several continents, but the underlying themes include that of class segregation, outsiders trying to fit in and destitute beauties rising through the ranks. In nearly every account, the protagonist, lil’ Cinder, is subjected to some level of poverty and menial labor, and then later cruelty from a family member or two. In so many ways, Cinderella is about oppression of family status, of servitude, of an unfair class system, of political gain and of the dominance of nobility. French storyteller Charles Perrault was one of the first to capture the genre of folklore on paper during the late 1600s when he published, Les Contes de ma Mère l’Oye, or “Tales of Mother Goose.” He wrote several famous anecdotes including, Cendrillon (or Cinderella), years before the Grimm brothers revamped the telling of the story with a bit of bibbidi-bobbidi-boo. It was his version with “Cinderwench” that brought about details like a glass slipper, the fairy godmother with a wand and a pumpkin that turned into a coach, which was adapted into what would become the animated fantasy.

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“ N OW T H E Q U EEN , B ELI EV I N G T H AT S H E H A D E AT EN S N OW W H I T E ' S LU N G S A N D LI V ER , CO U LD O N LY T H I N K T H AT S H E WA S AG A I N T H E F I R S T A N D T H E M O S T B E AU T I F U L WO M A N O F A LL . ”

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S N OW W H I T E

The Snow White story seems like one long question-and-answer session. Who’s the fairest of them all? And if you don’t say what I want to hear, someone is going to die. If only real mirrors offered that level of coddling. In the fiction we know, Snow White is rescued from death by a kiss from her handsome prince with the help of seven extremely one-dimensional dwarfs. The more recent film version Snow White and the Huntsman certainly alludes to more of the dysfunctional relationships and dark undertones of this classically disturbing story (boosted by eerie costumes worn by Charlize Theron). But even this CGI masterpiece doesn’t touch on the darker imaginings of the earliest versions in which most scholars believe the prince was the protagonist’s demise, not her salvation. Even though there are aspects of the Snow White tradition that can be attributed to an Indian Poem, Padmavat, a European muse takes this one. It is German Countess Margarete von Waldeck who lived during the 1500s who has become the widely accepted inspiration for Snow White due to German Scholar Eckhard Sander’s published comparison between the historical person and the fluffy myth. Countess Waldeck, born in 1533, was forced by her stepmother (Katharina of Hatzfeld) at the age of 16 to move to Brussels where she fell in love with a Spanish prince, who later became Phillip II of Spain, which frankly, pissed her mother off. Waldeck is said to have died just a few years later at the age of 21 from poisoning, reported to have been carried out by Spanish authorities when the King of Spain (yes, her lover’s daddy) and her step-

mom saw the impending marriage of the two lovers as a political disaster to the nation. Scholars have reported evidence that the young Waldeck showed symptoms of poisoning such as tremors consuming her body and frenzied handwriting. However, there was no prince to bring her back to life. As for the dwarfs, Waldeck was raised in an area of Hesse, Germany where children suffered from poor nutrition and were therefore dubbed “dwarfs” by the locals. These little guys also worked in her brothers’ copper mines. Some people believe the dwarfs to be robbers; it just depends who you ask. But, in truth, the dwarfs were never front-and-center characters until 1912, when the play “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” hit the Broadway stage and with it, endearing names. Again, the disparities are heavily debated for this tale, based on its perceived origins. There are two deviations of the story originating from Albania that feature dragons and spotlight a ring as the vehicle for a poisonous death, rather than an apple. But at every version along the way, it’s pretty sick. Between the poisoning and the plotting to take down a future heir of the throne, this story is littered with manipulation and death. Even Grimm’s tales didn’t spare the gory details in the fine print when the “evil queen” meets her deserving end saying, “When she arrived she recognized Snow White, and terrorized, she could only stand there without moving. Then they put a pair of iron shoes into burning coals. They were brought forth with tongs and placed before her. She was forced to step into the red-hot shoes and dance until she fell down dead.”

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W0JTEK LEGEND 0F THE S0LDIER BEAR

DURING THE SECOND WORLD WAR, A STRAY BEAR CUB FOUND IN IRAN BECAME ONE OF THE POLISH ARMY’S MOST UNLIKELY HEROES! AFTER HIS MOTHER WAS KILLED BY HUNTERS, A YOUNG BEAR CUB WAS FORCED TO FEND FOR HIMSELF IN THE HAMADAN REGION OF IRAN.

A YOUNG IRANIAN BOY CAPTURED THE CUB AND TOOK HIM FOR HIS OWN. WHEN A GROUP OF POLISH SOLDIERS CAME ACROSS THE BOY AND HIS BEAR, THEY AGREED TO BUY THE CUB AND CARE FOR IT.

WOJTEK RECEIVED REMARKABLE CARE FROM THE POLISH ARMY, DINING ON FRUIT, HONEY, SYRUP ... THE SOLDIERS NAMED THE BEAR “WOJTEK,” DERIVED FROM A POLISH NAME THAT MEANS “SMILING WARRIOR.” AND IF HE WAS ON HIS BEST BEHAVIOR, BEER AND CIGARETTES TOO!

HE GOT ON WELL WITH THE SOLDIERS, ENGAGING THEM IN PLAY FIGHTS AND CUDDLE SESSIONS.

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IN APRIL OF 1944, IN ORDER TO ALLOW HIM PASSAGE INTO A SHIP THAT WAS TO JOIN THE ALLIED FORCES IN NAPLES, ITALY, WOJTEK WAS DRAFTED AS A “CORPORAL” INTO THE 22ND ARTILLERY SUPPLY COMPANY OF THE POLISH ARMY.

AS HE WAS NOW AN OFFICIAL MEMBER OF THE ARMY, THE CREW OF THE SHIP HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO ALLOW WOJTEK TO BOARD. WOJTEK WAS THEN TRAINED TO CARRY AMMO AND SUPPLIES TO HIS FELLOW SOLDIERS IN THE BATTLE OF MONTE CASSINO, ALLIED TROOPS LAUNCHED AN ASSAULT IN HOPES OF MAKING THEIR WAY TO ROME, ITALY. WOJTEK WAS INDISPENSABLE HERE, CAREFULLY SUPPLYING MORTAR ROUNDS AND OTHER SUPPLIES TO HIS COMRADES.

TO COMMEMORATE THE BEAR’S VALOR, THE 22ND SUPPLY COMPANY ADOPTED AN EFFIGY OF WOJTEK AS THEIR OFFICIAL EMBLEM.

IN SEPTEMBER OF 2013, A PROJECT WAS APPROVED IN EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND TO ERECT A BRONZE STATUE OF WOJTEK IN HONOR OF HIS BRAVERY DURING THE WAR. JON STACHEWICZ PRE-SPRING 2014

SOCIETY

SIN The

SILENCE Story by ALEX KUKLER and TOVA GELFOND

Holocaust. There, I said it. Oh, and I’ll say it again: Holocaust. It would have gone over easier had I said fuck. But lo and behold I said the worst.

ou can say Nazi. That’s fine. In fact we have a variety of nazi-esque things that are available in the modern vernacular. There’s soup-nazi, coffee-nazi, fashion-nazi and, even on occasion, editing-nazi (who me?). As long as you are not talking about the swastika-wearing members of the SS, then you’re fine. That’s another one people aren’t so fond of: swastika. It’s not going to get you shunned, but no one knows what to do with it — a symbol once as commonly worn as a

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designer label, thanks to Hitler. Now, Hitler is a word you can say. It can even be mocked in conversation or theatrical jest, with a reference to Charlie Chaplin-style facial hair and an overzealous use of hands. And, of course, there is the actual person who can be lumped into a series of political counterparts (like Stalin) or murderers (like Osama bin Laden) — all of which are okay to mention. The word skinhead seems to have gone out in the ’80s, which may or may not have anything to do with

the fact that we take more liberties with haircuts now (see: Miley Cyrus). Auschwitz is a word that makes people cringe, while Bergen-Belsen or Warsaw are references you should be happy if they even register. Ghetto, reich, Nuremberg, anti-Semitism are all words you can say. But when talking about World War II — a perfectly digested word might I add — if you say Holocaust, then oxygen masks are coming down from the ceiling because your conversation is crashing.

aybe it’s because if we don’t talk about it, it doesn’t exist, right? In fact, denial of the Holocaust’s existence is growing, and it’s not due to the overwhelming discussion on the topic. When’s the last time you and the gang discussed the mass genocide over a chai tea latté? If you haven’t (and c’mon, you haven’t), I dare you to. Make the topic comfortable, take away any power that it holds. The more the word is feared, the more damage it creates. To thousands, Holocaust isn’t a word they can just shy away from in conversation. It’s something they faced and lived through. The survivors were left with a heavy responsibility — to keep this forbidden word alive. And it’s not sympathy they seek; it’s hope that their tales will spark conversation and their words will be absorbed and not ignored. Moishe Yosef has one of these stories — a 12-year-old in war-torn Europe story.

Moishe Yosef

“My first thought everyday was, ‘How do I survive?’” Moishe recalls.

Moishe with his best friend Sasha, also a Holocaust survivor, at a displaced persons camp in Munich, Germany.

“It didn’t matter how cold or tired or sick you felt. You must be unnoticed, and you must survive the day.” His kind smile turns to a distant stare, looking off at nothing in particular. His wife, Ivah, sits on a pillow and rests her head against the sofa’s beige arm. She chimes in as she pulls fabric through her hands, excitedly describing the quilt she’s making for their granddaughter’s Bat Mitzvah present. German Nazis invaded the village of Dvinsk, Latvia in 1941. Moishe’s little sister, older brother and parents were taken from the apartment where they grew up, located just above their father’s dress shop. They were transported to live in army barracks that had been made into ghettos. His father, along with many other men, was taken to a prison where he was killed within a week.

The eight years of Moishe’s life following the raid on his village are hard to imagine. They are even harder to discuss. Like many other Holocaust survivors, Moishe struggles to speak of the death march he endured.

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Memories of his teenage years are dark and haunting.

is brother and sister were murdered on May 1, 1942. Overnight, his mother became his one and only family. The two were transported to a camp in Poland where he worked day after day, forced to see bodies hang for ages at a time. He endured whippings in 20-degree weather and watched small children being used as target practice. Operating the crematory was the worst, Moishe says, because of the fear that he would one day see his friend or mother on the other side. “I would sneak a potato or bread and I would go to see my mother, [to the other side of the camp] which was fenced, and I would throw whatever I had stolen over the fence to her. And I always got caught!” Moishe says as he lets out a sad laugh. He did anything he could to keep his mother alive. For years, Moishe hid his father’s gold watch in hopes that it would one day save his life. “The orders came in for some of us to go to a camp in Mittelbau … in Germany. My mother’s name was not on the list to go, but mine was.” His father’s gold watch was traded to a guard for a promise that his mother would be on the train. A promise that was broken. “I got on the train the next day, and my mother, she wasn’t there. I never saw her ever again.”

Moishe and his friend Belle, also a Holocaust survivor, at a displaced persons camp in Munich, Germany.

Moishe Yosef at age 17.

here are thousands of stories like the one Moishe tells. Each one has a different ending, each holds a different pain. But all of the survivors were witness to the torture and execution of their friends, fathers, mothers and children. There are millions who will never be able to tell their story. “The Holocaust is already being forgotten because no one wants to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it,” he says. “None of the survivors want to talk about it … everything is negative. It’s so painful. And who wants to talk about that?” And fewer are even alive to talk about it.The number of survivors left to share their stories is shrinking — and fast. A little less than four million survived the Holocaust, and less than 500,000 are still alive today. Moishe is nearing the age of 85. In 20 years, there may be no survivors left. “My best friend from the camps, Sasha, just died in Israel. I read a Jerusalem report that says one Holocaust survivor dies each hour in Israel,” Moishe says with a look of concern. The survivors there are dying in a country that is now being defended to protect their past and their religion. They fight against people who deny the very existence of the Holocaust.

“To them, it’s all propaganda for the benefit of Israel. You could talk about it forever, you could go through each camp, show them overwhelming proof, but they refuse to believe it. And that’s expected. But we can’t allow for the world to pretend this never happened.” While survivors are dying daily, anti-Semitism and Holocaust deniers are growing worldwide, especially in U.S. cities. This is because few are discussing the realities, which leaves a new generation open to a falsified version of history complete with anonymous fiction-as-fact websites and unsupported wiki-truths. Neo-Nazi groups have almost doubled in the United States since 2000 and now outnumber all other hate groups, including Ku Klux Klan organizations. Recently, the United Nations cancelled an exhibit in Paris called “People, Book, Land — The 3,500 Year Relationship of the Jewish People and the Land of Israel.” Why? Because of fear that it could disrupt peace in the Middle East. Silence is perhaps the most dangerous weapon. So get all the f-bombs and socially unacceptable political improprieties out of your system and start saying Holocaust. And while you’re at it, say The Great Crime, The Bosnian War and Darfur.

“If you do not teach anybody, if you do not discuss it, it will be forgotten,” Moishe pleads with clenched fists. “The lesson is not that people are evil. The lesson is that we must stand up for people, especially when they are not our people.” PRE-SPRING 2014

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Photography by DAVID FELDMAN Model: AUSTIN EDWARDS Hair Styling by KRYSTEN TARNUZZER for Dyer & Posta Salon Production Assistance by AVI GELFOND, TOVA GELFOND and JAIME LIN WEINSTEIN. Wardrobe made to measure by SUIT SUPPLY unless otherwise noted. Shot on location at David Feldman’s residence at the STACKS LOFTS and at MARY TODD HAIRDRESSING COMPANY.

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Clockwise from left: B06 Watch, $11,700, BREITLING for BENTLEY. Baguette & Pavé Diamond Cufflinks, $13,500, BHINDI JEWELLERS. Flying B Chronograph Watch in Rose Gold, $37,465, BREITLING for BENTLEY. Gold Finish Knot Cufflinks, $375, MONT BLANC. BR 126 Heritage Watch, $4,600, BELL & ROSS. BR 03-92 Golden Heritage Watch, $3,900, BELL & ROSS. Sterling Silver & Rose Gold Cufflinks, $465, MONT BLANC. All at Bhindi Jewellers. PRE-SPRING 2014

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Limited Edition Shawn Carter Gold Watch, $33,900, HUBLOT, at Hublot Boutiques. Bar Cufflinks, $435, MONT BLANC, at Bhindi Jewellers.

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Seamaster Aqua Terra Watch with Pinstripe Dial, $5,400, OMEGA, Baguette & PavĂŠ Diamond Cufflinks, $13,500, BHINDI JEWELLERS, both at Bhindi Jewellers.

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BEAUTY

BEHIND BARS Story & Photography by ASHLEY BRECHTEL

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Nestled along the Mississippi Gulf Coast is a small area that straddles the Louisiana state line called Hancock County. There is no TGI Friday’s or shopping mall, not even a movie theatre. The people are friendly and will forever reference time with before or after “Katrina” (Katrina of course being the infamous hurricane that rolled through back in 2005).

f you drive west along the main road past Grammy’s donut shop, Clawzilla’s Seafood and Restaurant, and the Knock Knock Lounge, things become even more sparse before you arrive at the jail. The parking lot of the Hancock County correctional facility is nearly empty. No one wants to be here, and unless you’re an employee or are serving time, there is no reason to be. I, however, have come willingly and with anticipation. I’m here to meet the female inmates, hear their stories and hopefully learn a few things. I leave all of my personal belongings at the front desk as I’m only allowed to bring a notebook and pen with me to interview the girls. I’m told that they are excited about my visit, and knowing that calms my nerves. The vision of steely eyed women with their arms folded in defiance leaves me, and I’m hopeful this endeavor will be a successful one. As I walk down a long, empty hallway, I see male inmates through small glass windows and hear whistles. “Who’s your friend?” some ask Corrections Officer Grisham, who is leading the way. I continue to stare ahead, taking in my surroundings. This jail is fairly new, built in January 2012, which is very apparent. No chipped paint or scuffed floors. Everything is gleaming. Like a hospital, this building is intimidating, impersonal and depressing.

Assistant Warden, Captain Brandon Zeringue, tells me a little about the joint. The maximum capacity for this corrections facility is 285 with about nine male inmates for every female. The inmates’ uniforms are color-coded: All orange means that the individual has been charged with a misdemeanor; black and white stripes are for a non-violent felony; red and white stripes are for a violent felony; and all red means that the person is an assault risk to officers. We arrive at our destination and Officer Grisham speaks into a two-way radio mounted on her shoulder before the door opens. I enter and about 20 women stop and stare at me. Thankfully, no one is wearing all red. We enter a massive room with gray walls, stainless steel tables and chairs bolted to the floor. One wall is lined with showers while another has several small televisions mounted up high. There are two rows of cells, six upstairs and six downstairs. Collectively, these 12 cells can hold a maximum of 38 women. Normally, only one row is allowed into the common area at a time but today is a special circumstance, so they are all allowed out to speak with me. I grew up in the area, and I immediately recognize two of the inmates from school. The usual, “Hey! How have you been?” that I typically use when running into old, childhood acquaintances at the local Walmart suddenly seems cruel.

ALL RED MEANS THAT THE PERSON IS AN ASSAULT RISK TO OFFICERS.

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The girl that immediately stands out is Kori.

he is donning a small Snooki-esque bump and is wearing glitter eyeliner. She seems excited to share her secrets with me, but first the girls want to make me a cake. The ingredients are laid out on the table: a pack of sandwich cookies, a Snickers candy bar and a carton of milk. The girls work quickly together. One puts on a pair of rubber gloves and removes the icing from each cookie, mixing it all in a plastic bowl. She then crumbles up the wafers while another girl melts the Snickers bar in the microwave. The newly melted candy bar is poured onto the cookie crumbs and a little milk is added. Everything is mixed together and placed on a piece of cardboard from an old notebook. The concoction is molded into what can best be described as a sheet cake. The icing

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is spread over it like frosting. As we settle in with our “cake,” which is actually quite tasty, it’s time to get down to the real reason I’m here: beauty. If you haven’t been living under a rock then you’ve probably heard of the Netflix original series, “Orange is the New Black,” where female prisoners use what little resources they have to create hair extensions, lip gloss and even shower shoes. I wanted to know how much of that was real life and how much was the product of imaginative writers. It doesn’t take long to realize that it is real life, and these female inmates are just as concerned with their beauty routine as the rest of us. While the girls rush to their cells to retrieve the necessary items, Kori invites me to see hers and I follow, peering into others as I pass. She is upbeat with her

grand, sweeping hand gestures, “Here is my waterfront condo,” she jokes. “It’s paid off.” I enter her cell and am surprised by just how similar it looks to the ones I see on TV. It’s small with a set of steel-framed bunk beds holding thin mattresses. In the corner, a modest steel toilet. Kori lifts up her mattress to show me a fashion magazine she’s managed to obtain. The pages are bare of color because she’s been rubbing it off to use as eyeshadow. “Magazines have the best colors,” she explains. Once we get back to our table in the common area the girls are ready to show me what they know. I ask my most pressing question, which is directed to Kori: “How did you get glitter eyeliner?” She responds simply with, “I made it.” How she made it seems obvious to everyone but me.

“SOME OF THE BEST TALENT I’VE SEEN IN MY LIFE COMES FROM BEHIND PRISON WALLS.”

It turns out that the government-issued, clear toothpaste is useful for many things beside brushing your teeth, including mixing with glitter. “We love when our family and friends send us cards with glitter,” exclaims one inmate who says they simply scrape it off and save it. I’m told that the toothpaste is also great for getting stains out of your clothes, cleaning your shoes and mixing with conditioner to make hair gel. A clean-faced girl sits, and Kori gets to work. A packet of cocoa left over from a previous breakfast is poured into a cup and a little baby powder is added. Afterward, the stuffing is removed from a maxi pad and used to put the powder on the girl’s face as a type of foundation. I’m told that instant coffee grounds can also work if you need a darker pigment. For eyeshadow, an empty potato chip bag is opened and the foil backing is removed. Toilet paper is rubbed on a stick of deodorant and then rubbed on the chip bag, extracting the color (in this case, brown). The toilet paper is rubbed onto the eyelids, leaving a richer than expected hue, followed by the cheeks for blush. There are seemingly no limits to what these inmates can do with a few items. Mascara is made from pen ink and a toothbrush. ChapStick is used as a face primer. Kool-Aid mixed with Vaseline makes for a great lip stain and loose strings from clothing are saved to

thread eyebrows. Tampons are not available in jail so the girls make their own using maxipads, and of course someone is more than happy to show me how. With precision and ease, the stuffing from the pad is removed and rolled tightly into a cylindrical shape. It is then wrapped in toilet paper. The outside liner of the pad is wrapped over the toilet paper and twisted at the base. The end result is a tampon, string and all. No makeover is complete without a hair transformation, and the girls show me how they make curlers out of toilet paper rolls, which they then wrap in their hair while wet. Once the hair has dried the curlers are removed for wavy, bouncy locks. Officer Grisham says she is amazed by what the girls can do. “I’ll see a girl with board-straight hair one day and the next day it’s curly. At first, I would search their cells wondering how they’ve managed to obtain a curling iron. I quickly learned that they can do this, and so much more, with items already at their disposal; no heat necessary.” The girls say that they also dye their hair with coffee or tea to cover gray or liven up dull tresses. I watch with interest as girls ooh and aah over their makeovers. “Some of the best talent I’ve seen in my life comes from behind prison walls,” says Kori who has spent many years in different facilities. PRE-SPRING 2014

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The Seay Firm LLC is an entertainment, intellectual property, and business law firm based in Atlanta, Georgia. Our founding attorney, John Seay, is a former musician and journalist with over a decade of experience in the entertainment industries. That experience helps John connect with and understand the needs of his artist and arts-related business clients. Among the services we provide are contract review, drafting, and negotiation, licensing, business formation, registration and protection of copyrights and trademarks, and litigation. The Seay Firm LLC provides cost-efficient legal solutions that are as creative and dynamic as you are.

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y biggest questions for the girls are “Why? Who are they trying to impress? What is the purpose?” Their answer isn’t that surprising: It makes them feel good and gives them something to do with their time. Also, many of them want to look as nice as they can for their kids, parents and significant others on visitation days. Some of the women here have turned this into their trade. They’ll thread eyebrows in exchange for a candy bar or a hand-drawn birthday card to mail their kid. Money is no good here; instead they barter with chip bags and candy wrappers. Realizing this makes me all the more grateful because they are using their skills and very limited resources for someone they just met. It’s not like they can just run to Sephora for more concealer when they run out. What is considered trash to the rest of us is precious material to these girls.

As I left that visit (with a hair curler, a homemade tampon, a half-tube of toothpaste and two drawings in tow) I was surprised by how much fun I had. Those two hours were spent eating, laughing and sharing. Not much different than an evening with my girlfriends. Several months later I was allowed back to the Hancock County correctional facility with permission to photograph the girls. I’m greeted with almost all new faces. No more former classmates are here and Kori is long gone — locked up at yet another jail. Some girls clam up and shuffle off to the corner when they spot my camera, but a few are willing to show me their beauty routines, and as time passes even the standoffish girls come closer with piqued curiosity. There is once again laughing and joking. I conclude that it’s impossible not to bond when eyeliner and lip gloss are involved. One of the inmates locked up on the

second floor saunters out announcing that she’s off to meet with her lawyer, and the conversation shifts seamlessly from mascara and moisturizer to plea deals and trial dates. The mood doesn’t dampen as I would have suspected. It’s just the way life is here. One minute we’re talking about eyeshadow colors and the next someone is reminded of their upcoming sentencing hearing. Officer Grisham tells me that everything laid out in front of me is now considered contraband because it has been altered and/or used for a purpose it wasn’t intended for. As soon as I leave the girls will most likely be searched and everything will be confiscated — a friendly reminder that nothing is normal about life here. I may have been a nice distraction, but soon life will go back to business as usual. The girls will be locked back in cells and told when to eat and when to shower, looking forward to the next visit from their loved ones.

Some mornings I look into my makeup drawer and see all my beloved beauty staples: Smashbox primer, M.A.C. bronzer, bareMinerals eyeshadow. How different it is from the girls I met in jail whose items are stored in homemade boxes under their beds: ChapStick, potato chip bags, deodorant, cocoa powder. I imagine their collections are even more precious to them. It’s a way of holding on to their sense of identity in a world of color-coded uniforms and steel bars. PRE-SPRING 2014

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M I L L I N E RY

M O M E N T

hough most people today may view their favorite hat as little more than the messiah of bad hair days, throughout history they have stood for so much more. The top hat, for example, was originally associated with 18th century gentlemen of the upper class. Other retro-inspired hats (like the newsboy, cloche, bowler and fedora) emphasize the role of the hat for fashion over function; whether oversized in proportion and eccentric in style, or modest in size and flair. So go ahead, channel your inner “Fair Lady” and hold your head high in the ultimate fashion accessory – and do so even on a good hair day.

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Photography by JIMMY JOHNSTON Styling by TIAN JUSTMAN Models: ALIE DIAZ AND EMME MARTIN (both CLICK Atlanta) Makeup by ERICA BOGART for CoverGirl Hair Styling by JAIME TERLECKI for b.You Stylist Assistant: DARICKA WALTON All hats available at MIZ SCARLETT’S.

Wide Brim Hat, $800, GABRIELA LIGENZA.

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Black Wrapped Hat, price upon request, ISABELLE LEOURIER.

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Velvet Woven Hat, $1,800, STEPHEN JONES.

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Burlap Hat, $800, THE LONDON HAT HOUSE.

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Blue Velvet Hat, $800, STEPHEN JONES.

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Black Hat with Veil, $800, STEPHEN JONES.

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D I N N E R PA RT Y

Laced up Photography by CHARLIE WATTS

ALL CHINA AND LINENS AVAILABLE AT KATHRYN LEACH HOME

magine a fabric knotted into delicacies, stitched into romantic patterns with a light, frothy structure: lace. An ancient craft first made in the late 15th century, the textile has made its way through history adorning everything from collars and cuffs to linens and lingerie (and yes, even porcelain plates, when mimicking the intricate woven patterns of thread). There is perhaps no other fabric that can add a sense of romance to an ensemble — or a dinner table — like lace. This textile revival is anything but antiquated. In fact, it’s time to make good on those grandma hand-me-down doilies ‘cause they are so now.

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TIME WELL SPENT R

In the 17th century, a pair of lace cuffs for a jacket would take an experienced lacemaker 10 months, working 15-hour days, to complete. (Lace is mostly machine-made today.)

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INT RICATE B E GINNINGS R

Originally, lace was made of gold, linen, silk or silver threads. The majority of lace is now made with cotton thread, though some modern artists have taken to using copper or wire.

SAINTLY SAVIOR R

In the 1600s, Jean-François Régis, also known as St. Regis, took the craft to an altruistic level — helping take at-risk women, orphans and prostitutes off of the street. He trained them in the art of lacemaking to ensure that they would be able to support themselves properly and was hence named the Patron Saint of Lacemakers.

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OL’ BLUE EYES AND

LUCKY NUMBER SEVEN Story by BONNIE HERRING

A DISTINGUISHED FRIENDSHIP AND DEFINING STANDARD

Two cronies walk into a bar — Toots Shor’s saloon to be exact — and the rest of the story is equally as cliché as any romance. On this particular night, Jackie Gleason introduced Frank Sinatra to what would become his signature cocktail, Jack Daniel’s Old No. 7 whiskey. They met. They wooed. They fell in love.

t was love at first sip, and the story of this 50-year-old friendship is as spirited as the legends themselves. Since their first encounter, Sinatra and Jack were inseparable and Old No. 7 remained throughout Sinatra’s illustrious career. Aficionados maintain that the first two of the 10 Rat Pack Style Rules clearly state: 1. Never wear brown after dark and 2. Jack Daniel’s. Always Jack Daniel’s. Sinatra even designed a logo for his self-proclaimed “Jack Daniel’s Country Club” and created a flag, which he often hoisted on a flag pole outside his Twin Palms estate, signaling an invite to his Rat Pack that revelry and cocktails were in order. Sinatra referred to Jack Daniel’s as “Daniel’s, the nectar of the Gods,” and at the start of each of his shows, he would raise his glass of Jack and offer a toast to the audience. “This is Jack Daniel’s, a gentleman’s drink,” Sinatra would say with a chilled glass tum-

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bler of three ice cubes, two fingers of Jack and a dash of water in hand. In a time when Jack Daniel’s whiskey had not yet become widely distributed and was trickling drop by drop out of the barrels in Lynchburg, Tenn., Sinatra befriended the first ever salesman for The Jack Daniel Distillery, Angelo Lucchesi. Lucchesi, nicknamed “Kid,” became Sinatra’s friend for life. Lucchesi always made sure there was an ample supply of Jack on hand for Sinatra — even securing a secret stash in the fuselage on his private plane. Sinatra’s public affinity for the whiskey catapulted the distillery’s popularity. In 1955, distribution of the 90 proof whiskey was a mere 150,000 cases per year — today over 10.9 million cases are distributed annually throughout the world. The alcohol content has decreased some over the years for Old No. 7, but the distillery is still producing select 90 proof varieties.

Hidden away in a dark building amongst floor-to-ceiling racks of wooden-charred barrels filled with aging whiskey rest the “Sinatra Barrels.” To this day, “Sinatra Select is a partnership between his family and ours at Jack Daniel’s to honor that long-standing, personal affinity,” explains Jeff Arnett, Master Distiller at Jack Daniel’s. Deep grooves on the inside of the barrel staves expose the whiskey to extra layers of toasted oak imparting a rich amber color, bold character, pleasant smokiness and smooth vanilla finish. These special barrels produce the Sinatra Select 90 proof Jack Daniel’s whiskey crafted to pay tribute to Ol’ Blue Eyes himself. Next year marks what would have been Sinatra’s 100th birthday and even in his eternal rest, he is with his legendary whiskey still. Upon his death, Sinatra was buried with a roll of dimes (to call his friends), a pack of Camels and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s tucked neatly inside his suit jacket.

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