SHEI Digital // Vol. 7 Iss. 5

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Volume 7 | Issue 5


who’s on staff? editorial EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Natalie Guisinger CREATIVE DIRECTOR Evan Parness PRINT FEATURES EDITOR Deirdre Lee DIGITAL FEATURES EDITOR Melina Schaefer PRINT FASHION EDITORS Nick Farrugia Juan Marquez DIGITAL FASHION EDITOR Jacob Ward DESIGN EDITORS Carly Lucas Mackenzie Schwedt PRINT PHOTO EDITORS Katie Corbett Ryan Little DIGITAL PHOTO EDITOR Rita Vega STREET STYLE EDITOR Lucy Carpenter MANAGING PHOTO EDITOR Alex Andersen VIDEO EDITOR Kendall Ka

business PUBLISHER Colleen Jones MARKETING DIRECTOR Kira Mintzer OPERATIONS DIRECTOR Drisha Gwalani FINANCE COORDINATORS Alex Chessare Deesha Shah EVENTS COORDINATOR Alex McMullen HUMAN RESOURCES COORDINATOR Julia Napiewocki

DIGITAL CONTENT EDITOR Alex Sterchele

PUBLIC RELATIONS COORDINATORS Mackenzie Fleming Gillian Yang

SOCIAL MEDIA COORDINATOR Hannah Triester

SOCIAL MEDIA COORDINATOR Liz Haley


ILLUSTRATOR CARLY LUCAS

SHEI /’sh(ay)/ Magazine was founded in 1999 as an Asian Pop Culture Magazine and became affiliated with University of Michigan Student Publications in 2013. Our Digital Magazine, known as SHIFT at the time, was launched in 2015. Since then, SHEI has grown to campus wide recognition as a publication that students can come to for fashion, art, and culture commentary and inspiration.


who’s on staff?

contributing members DIRECTORS Sophie Alphonso Tavleen Gill Karly Madey Claire Manor Courtney Mass STYLISTS Josie Burck Gabby Ceritano Kailana Flora Dejoie Isabelle Fisher Tavleen Gill Karly Madey Peter Marcus Courtney Mass Noor Majed Moughini Olivia Mouradian Madison Patel Abby Rapoport Jake Sweat WRITERS Lauren Champlin Neha Kotagiri Hannah Triester

PHOTOGRAPHERS Lauren Berman Gabby Ceritano Rosalie Comte Korrin Dering Hanna Dong Youmna Khan Gabrielle Mack Karly Madey Gwen McCartney Sam McLeod Webb Sarris Ed Tian Ally Vern VIDEOGRAPHERS Sara Cooper Madeline Kim Sam Rao GRAPHIC DESIGNERS Camille Andrew Helen Lee Sophie Levit Tung Tung Lin Gabi Mechaber Yuki Obayashi Emma Peterson


READ MORE SHEI

SHEIMAGAZINE.COM


in this issue

MASTHEAD LETTERS TREND W ET AD STUDEN


D 02 S FROM THE EDITORS 08 IRIS 12 THE CONTINUITY OF COFFEE 16 CHESHIRE 20 WATCH: NOSTALGIA FOR THE 90S 24 THICAL THRIFTING 28 ROARING 20S 34 EMPTY SPACES 40 DREAMERS 46 AND SCENE 52 D NAUSEUM 54 NT FEATURE: MAHERU JAHANIA 60


letter from the editor

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Perhaps, you’ve heard of the song lyrics from Kacey Musgraves’ song “Happy and Sad”: “Is there a word for the way that I’m feeling tonight? Happy and sad at the same time” Yes, Kacey, there is. Originating from Portuguese folk culture, the term Saudade has a few loose definitions; It’s generally defined as a feeling of melancholic nostalgia for something that is absent, or hasn’t even happened. Portuguese writer Manuel de Melo describes it as “a pleasure you suffer, an ailment you enjoy.” There is a repressed sense of knowing that what, or whom you’re longing for won’t ever come back. This feeling of longing strikes me often as a senior, as I attempt to relish my final collegiate moments before embarking into the real, uncertain world. There’s a sense of comfort with having certain rituals as a student — always knowing you can commute to north campus on Bluebuses, swiping your Mcard into campus buildings and hearing the subtle click of the door unlocking. My appreciation for being a student has expanded to embracing the city of Ann Arbor — admiring the garland strung up during the holidays in Nickels arcade, watching the sunrise from the tops of parking lots, grabbing a cup of coffee from Roos Roast and sporting Merril hiking boots while wandering through Kerrytown Farmers Market acting like a local, but fully knowing well I’m not. I attempt to ignore the Saudade, the dreaded feeling that these moments are fleeting. I won’t be a student forever. Because Saudade is such an interpretive feeling, our issue is filled with divergent ideas that play with this abstract term. Many of the shoots utilize childlike props and themes to evoke a sense of nostalgia, including Cheshire. Shoots address complex emotions humans have when reflecting on childhood memories. Inspired by Alice in Wonderland, Shoot Director Tavleen Gill states that Chesire portrays “the complexity of growing up and the emotions

associated with childhood memories. The model represents an individual revisiting their youth.” In Dreamers, our editorial team takes a surreal approach of showcasing two people longing for each and reuniting in their dreams. Shoot director Karly Madey states that, “The use of the teddy bears, random objects and tissue paper is very unconventional like our dreams usually are.” Features writer Hannah Treister, in The Continuity of Coffee, accepts that regardless of the unexpected pandemic, a socially-limited college career, and uncertainty of post-graduation, Starbucks’ Sumatra pods will always be a comforting ailment she can enjoy during her morning routine. Although I recognize that I have few months left to relish in my Ann Arbor experience, it’s reassuring to realize that this life I’ve lived has only yet begun, and regardless of how uncertain the future is, there’s a whole life I have yet to experience. As Neha Kotagiri states in And Scene, “I realize now that I am not running out of time: with each passing moment, I am collecting it.” It’s not just the moments that I relish in collecting, but also the relationships I’ve been so grateful to cultivate in college, especially at SHEI. In my role as the editor in chief this year, I’ve spent a lot of time together with the SHEI Print Editors to conceptualize and orchestrate print shoots. On election day, we drove across the state to Warren Dunes State Park and spent the morning photographing on steep sandy dunes. One of the Print Photo Editors and I have spent countless hours together in East Quad’s darkroom developing film photographs for our independent projects. I write this as my stomach is still sore from laughing so much when I spent my “well-being break” with the print editors of SHEI on a 50 degree, spring-teasing day. I will look back fondly on that Wednesday and continue to be grateful to have collected that memory.

Natalie Guisinger Editor-In-Chief


saudade Saudade is the dream you want to jump back into. It’s reading your favorite book for the third time and wishing it was your first. It’s watching your parent’s car speeding down the road as you stand on the precipice of a new life. You hang on, staring as they become nothing on the horizon, and you tumble backwards into the open mouth of your future. If you want to understand Saudade, look for it in those fantasies that might dance across your mind before you go to sleep. Do you see it there, in the longing for an old friend’s embrace? Or perhaps in the pang of your heart when you recall a childhood memory. Maybe you feel it when you look at crushed dreams, plans and hopes. There it is, nestled in all the what-ifs and maybe-one-days. But Saudade is interesting in its complexity. It speaks to something about the progress of life, the way we must abandon one thing to hold another. The way we must unburden before we can continue. The way we only truly know we love something, or loved it, is when it’s gone. You came to college and your future swallowed you up, and in it you forged your family, your community and your passions. The pain of leaving home is sweetened by the prospect of a new beginning, and you set out to build something equally painful to leave behind. And leave it behind you will. If you’re lucky, you’ll leave this place (wherever this letter finds you) and you’ll feel the hurt of saying goodbye. But if you want to understand Saudade, look for it in that feeling of pain. Do you see it there, nestled in the memories you cherish? In the wine nights on living room floors, the spontaneous dance parties, the late night wanderings of a city that somehow became home? Saudade isn’t just the hurt of moving on — it’s the bittersweet joy of knowing you’ve experienced something beautiful enough to miss.

Melina Schaefer Digital Features Editor



IR IS



Gold Hair Clips - Express Shimmer Shirt - H&M Pear Clips - H&M Pearl Earrings - H&M Grey Earrings - Francesca’s White Dress - Loveshackfancy


DIRECTOR CLAIRE MANOR STYLISTS JOSIE BURCK NOOR MAJED MOUGHNI OLIVIA MOURADIAN PHOTOGRAPHER HANNA DONG GRAPHIC DESIGNER SOPHIE LEVIT MODEL OLIVIA MOURADIAN


Home, March Quarantine My eyes squint open at 7:00am, my dulled consciousness ready for the rustling of my early-rising, routine-bound roommate around our 19-by-21-foot dorm room. Quickly both eyes widen fully as my mind machine whirs to a start, storing some key facts as assumptions on which I’ll operate for the day: I am alone, this is my childhood home, I’ve been here for a week already, I have months to go, and I cannot visualize anything after this stay. These assumptions require such deliberate writing because a global pandemic rewrote them a month ago, and has continually rewritten them with each passing week. I wonder if my former roommate is awake in her own suburb, if she has stayed as romantically committed to her schedule as during the semester. My brain might have powered itself on against my will, but I retake control and start the day. Though I have reprogrammed my assumptions of place and people, the semester does not terminate itself when the question of survival is added to our problem sets.

And even though my brother is twenty one and I’m eighteen, playtime obviously begins when he awakens. Just because it involves HBO thrillers and video games—instead of monopoly and carpet hockey—does not mean hiding out in our basement is any less of a compulsory sibling habit. So I commence my day early, hoping to knock out a couple readings before I’m plucked from my kitchen-table-turneddesk and plopped onto my corner of the dark green couch that sinks deep and swallows me whole. Every day I know this is where I’ll end up when it’s over, or sometimes even before it starts. But today’s day in a sea of days has just begun. Luckily, my soon-to-be steaming cup of coffee has a mental restart functionality, kick-starting another 12-hour time slot filled with old Google calendar notifications, just in a new order. The kitchen, then, is my first destination once I’m upright. The Keurig machine whirs to life like my brain just did. I should probably grind real coffee beans, heat up the black liquid on the stove, and ceremoniously press it


WRITER HANNAH TRIESTER GRAPHIC DESIGNER TUNG TUNG LIN

into my cup. I should definitely not use these wasteful plastic pods with an inked Starbucks logo and set aside not one but two sugar packets. I should finally take the time to figure out just how in the raw this sweetener really is in our preprocessed, pre-packaged world. My phone lights up with a notification from the University about the ‘uncertainty of these unprecedented times.’ I think to myself how the future is indeed uncertain, but this five-minute routine instills a tiny bit of daily certainty. Reach for a Sumatra pod, place it in the machine, press the top down and listen for the puncture of Starbucks’ green lady’s heart. Press the middle-cup-size button, which lights up as the first drops are spit into my thickrimmed brown mug, engraved with “Glasbern, An Inn in the Country” and a blue sketch of the quaint architecture with its front-lawn pines. Tear open sugar packet #1, pour, sugar packet #2, pour, reuse yesterday’s wooden stirrer (to pretend like I’m really at Starbucks), stir counter clockwise, then clockwise— vigorously—then wait. Maybe read. When I finally draw the mug to

my lips, I know it will be the perfect temperature because I’ve practiced my patience all week: ten pages of my novel is the perfect cool down time. For this duration, the vivid words are augmented by the wafting aroma of this dark roast, an earthy acidity that might scare away some, but puts me instantly at ease. This type of ease is less like scrolling through my phone and more like the sun’s warmth on my skin through the car’s windshield. I might only leave the house to take a walk with my dad, or switch playlists from smooth jazz to sad pop, but it is still new, and slight variations of yesterday’s events are about to unfold. And maybe, just maybe, if this magical liquid keeps my mind awake for just a few hours, and I write just a few hundred words, the inevitability of my becoming a couch potato will feel a little less lame. Ann Arbor, Fall 2020, Third Semester Upon reaching for the new door handle to my new college home—a home that, until now, sat on the silky green grass of my dreams and not the rotting August grass of Ann Arbor—I feel frustratedly


apprehensive. Apprehensive because I just traveled 465 miles from a life that, as the summer forged on, built itself. Things, real things, do happen during a fivemonth hiatus. And frustratedly because the feeling of standing in this very spot feels overshadowed by the crumpling and throwing away of that life, like March in reverse. But with a few more seconds, reason triumphs over these bittersweet stomach-turners. This is how moving works, how aging works, how adult life works. I turn the door knob and tap the triangle play command in my head. Everything changed and everything has stayed the same. The collegiate game rebooted itself, more spikes were added to COVID-19 case reports. The avatars of my on-screen college friends evolved into real people, while my family and high school friends underwent digitized devolution, condensing into pixels. My double bed shrunk to a single. My 3am to 12pm sleep schedule became a functional 1am to 10am, with the addition of four alarms, each fifteen minutes apart. Yet the sound of my iPhone ‘circuit’ wake up call—‘circuit,’ because that is definitely

a word to describe sound—signals the same, non-negotiable first task: coffee brewing. Other than the daily reuse of a blush pink thermos, half-heartedly rinsed between uses with water and sometimes dish soap, my coffee routine and responding senses are familiar. The Starbucks pods, the smooth plastic machine, the middle cup-size button which glows green upon selection. The way the coffee sputters out, slowly at first then in a steady stream. The intense, uniquely grounding aroma which fills the smell-trapping container of my room— though it’s more potent with less volume to fill. The brief recognition of addiction as I all-too-excitedly take my first too-hot sip, which I should not have committed to for another five pages. Though my world has shifted, it hasn’t been too far in any direction because I am still drinking this coffee, with each cup commencing a brand new, locked-down day. Ann Arbor, Winter 2023, Eighth Semester I blink and two weeks pass. I take a mid-afternoon nap and two months go


by. I lay down for a single night’s sleep and I put two years behind me. That’s how time feels when I’m in Ann Arbor: I’m playing catch-up more than I am planning ahead—think moving train or endless carousel or playground rounda-bout metaphor. All of a sudden I’m in my last undergraduate semester and I don’t possess the privilege of playing a perennial game of catch-up. Maybe I just submitted an application for graduate school, or interviewed for some job at some company. I am definitely trying to convince myself, as I prepare the same single-cup of Starbucks-brand Sumatra coffee, that I did all the things, saw all the sights, went to all the parties. I drink the same cup that I drank in my freshman dorm room, my sophomore house, my junior apartment. I know that in not too long from now, all of these years will blur into one happy chunk of life, a childhood dragged as far as it could stretch. I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror and see—really see—a facial frame of layered blonde highlights, painted over and over again into a bright, unnatural hue. Maybe I should dye it darker.

A city, 2027 Sirens and artificial light. Horns honking and yellow streaks on cement. Sidewalk phone calls and tall brownstones. This is not Ann Arbor, it’s a big city. Or maybe a small city. The type of city where, for the first time, I’ll display my navy pantsuit and purse of important things and definitely not heels. The type of city with strangers and strange smells, the latter I replace with the coffee in my thermos, since I’ve mastered the simultaneous act of walking and sipping. This smell has been a daily given for six years; so much has changed and also nothing at all. My hair is a little darker, though it resists identifying as solid brunette. I’d like to think this self is fully functional, has figured herself out, has figured it all out—but I doubt it. The thinking ahead has finally exceeded the catch-up, though the latter never really goes away. I am alone and I am surrounded, I am certain in the short-term but uncertain in the long, I am drinking this same cup of coffee but maybe I am someone I never saw coming.



DIRECTOR TAVLEEN GILL STYLISTS TAVLEEN GILL PETER MARCUS MADISON PATEL PHOTOGRAPHERS KORRIN DERING YOUMNA KHAN GABRIELLE MACK VIDEOGRAPHER SAM RAO GRAPHIC DESIGNER GABI MECHABER MODEL AGNES ASAMOAH


Pink Pants - Peter Do Green Top - SHEIN



trend watch: nostalgia for the 90s


PHOTOGRAPHER ALLY VERN GRAPHIC DESIGNER EMMA PETERSON MODEL MADI HOOD


The idea that trends are constantly recycled is not new; we’ve seen rapid turnover of popular pieces from the 1970s, 80s, and 90s in common fashion today. Yet this revitalization of past fashion holds an added air of nostalgia and longing, often expressed through the incorporation of old and new. Like many, Madi has found unique ways to authenticate her personal style. Her outfit shows off classic 90s staples with Doc Martens and a statement slip dress, and she uses layering to make these pieces her own. “When coming up with outfits, I use base colors such as white or black, and then I add some statement colors.” She also makes her own jewelry, and sees it as “a very affordable way to make an outfit unique.” The modernization of past looks has arguably become a staple of this decade. In a time where most of us are confined to the limits of our homes, it feels like an escape when we can explore these “flashbacks” to the past through digital means. The world of fashion is essentially limitless when inspiration has no time constraints, and it raises the question of how stylistic trends will move forward from here. Will we continue to develop new styles from the old, or will we create something entirely new that is viewed with nostalgia by future generations?


Leather Jacket - Zara Long Necklace - Nordstrom Short Necklace - Madi Hood Socks - HM Shoes - Doc Martens


When it comes to building my wardrobe, I prefer a challenge. The hunting, the digging, the manifesting pieces into existence that comes with shopping secondhand makes fashion, for me, feel more rewarding. Every item in my closet has a story—I remember when I bought it and who I was thrifting with that day. I can recall the excitement I felt after finding an authentic ‘70s disco top or a dupe for a trendy piece on my Pinterest that I spent months searching for. And I’m not alone: In 2017, a reported forty percent1 of 18 to 24-year-olds shopped resale, and with increased dialogue around the negative impacts of fast-fashion business models and the push towards eco-conscious consumption, it’s safe to say that this statistic has only grown in the years since. However, with all of the benefits of shopping secondhand over shopping retail, thrifting does not come without its own share of controversies. As thrift shopping has grown in popularity for fashion lovers, questions and concerns around accessibility, affordability, and overconsumption may overshadow many individual’s sustainable intentions. Criticisms of thrifting that have surfaced in recent years almost entirely surround, what many term, the gentrification of thrift stores. The idea of donated clothing being gatekept from those in-need is undoubtedly concerning, however, as it was described in a recent blog post by imperfect idealist 2, these issues are never as simple as pointing a finger at individuals. Many blame the rising prices of thrifted clothing, particularly at large chain stores such as Goodwill or The Salvation Army, on the popularity of thrifting, but their argument that increased demand leads to scarcity resulting in increased prices doesn’t quite hold true here—most thrift stores actually have an excess of clothing. On average, only about twenty percent of the items donated to thrift stores get sold, and what’s left over is then sent to landfills or shipped overseas, negatively impacting their local textile workers and economies. Corporate greed is most often to blame for increased prices. Less than one-eighth3 of Goodwill’s annual profit goes towards their charity work, and the company has repeatedly come under fire for paying their disabled workers sometimes less than a dollar an hour. “Thrifting: It’s More Than Just Clothes,” Planet Aid, Inc., January 31, 2019, https://www.planetaid.org/ thrift-center/thrift-center-blog/the-thrifting-movement. 2 “The Gentrification of Thrifting: Is Thrifting + Reselling Ethical?,” imperfect idealist - travel & running blog, September 16, 2020, https://imperfectidealist.com/is-thrifting-and-reselling-ethical/. 3 Alice Minium, “The Dark Reality Behind America’s Greatest Thrift Store Empire,” Medium (Medium, April 22, 2018), https://medium.com/@aliceminium/the-dark-reality-behind-americas-greatest-thrift-store-empire183967087a1e. 1



Since there is no scarcity of clo essarily fair to say that thrifting ou taking clothes away from those in be mindful of where you’re shoppin cities, there are often more clothe ever sell, but the issue of scarcity rural or low-income neighborhoods store where items may be low in s high-need items such as winter jack al clothing that can be vital to the s and families in-need. It’s true—the best way to be a less. Although, there are ways to m than harm on the planet and in yo independent secondhand stores ca community, in addition to finding so The Ann Arbor Thrift Shop4 is my campus. Since 1932, the Ann Arb gency social service aid to those i sale of donated items. Stepping in the friendly faces of volunteers an a community—long-time customer their life updates, greeting each o waves and well wishes. This hidde ly 350 volunteer members, all ded quality items and returning all of th in need. “It’s a lot of common sen the Ann Arbor Thrift Shop for almos last visit. “This shop fills a niche th ate—they know that when they’ve chains, they can call us and know t

“Ann Arbor Thrift Shop,” Ann Arbor Thrift Shop annarborthriftshop.org/index.html. 4


othing in thrift stores, it isn’t necutside of necessity is equivalent to n-need, although it is important to ng. In suburban areas or populated es donated to shops than they can can definitely be more relevant in s. In these environments, or in any stock, it is best to avoid purchasing ckets, plus-size, kid’s, or professionsurvival and success of individuals

a sustainable consumer is to shop make your shopping do more good our community. Shopping at local, an be a great way to support your ome of the best items. y number one place to shop around bor Thrift Shop has provided emerin the Ann Arbor area through the nto this space, you are greeted by nd are immediately welcomed into rs and volunteers chit chat, sharing other by name and departing with en gem is run entirely by their neardicated to selling gently-used, high heir profits to community members nse giving,” Debbie, a volunteer at st twenty years, told me during my hat I know social workers apprecie gone through all of their normal that we’ve got money for them.”

p, accessed February 28, 2021, http://www.


Browsing through the store, you’ ing, organized shelves of books, and everything in excellent condition an “We have a mission,” Debbie resp justifies keeping their prices so low ing money to give back to the comm people in the community that don’t come in and get nice things.” Their to get stains out, make repairs, all to in the best possible condition when ication that’s allowed them to build side Debbie, Sarah, a volunteer of customers that frequent the shop they told me cheerily, and “So-andIn stores like the Ann Arbor Thrif thing, and this is reflected in every their items don’t sell, their membe or directly to SafeHouse or the Hum bags are recycled, brought in by t themselves. Whether it’s picking ou or dressing entire families for free store feeling good about the clothes they had next to nothing. Excitem shop when someone finds the perf “You go!” and “Check this out!” It in and know you’re adding somet “A lot of times you do volunteer w end product,” Debbie told me. “Yo know that everything we do and e and that’s a wonderful feeling.”


’re met with stylized racks of clothd eye-catching displays of jewelry— nd almost nothing over ten dollars. ponded when asked how the store w. “There’s the idea that we’re raismunity, but we’re also a source for t have a lot of disposable income to r members often take items home o guarantee that their products are n they are sold. It’s this level of dedsuch a loyal customer base. Alongfive years, recounted a number of weekly, “Paula’s got great taste,” -so’s a great jewelry shopper!” ft Shop, community means everyy part of their spirit. When any of ers take them to other thrift stores mane Society. All of their checkout their members or their customers ut job interview outfits for women e, they allow people to leave their s they’re wearing when they know ment reverberates throughout the fect item at a great price, a choir of t’s an amazing atmosphere to thrift thing positive to your community. work and you don’t get to see the ou see it here on many levels. We everything we sell has a purpose,

PHOTOGRAPHER ROSALIE COMTE WRITER LAUREN CHAMPLIN GRAPHIC DESIGNER CARLY LUCAS MODELS LAUREN CHAMPLIN FRANKIE TORRES



Embroidered Jeans - Coogi Jeans with Holes - Tommy Hilfiger

DIRECTOR SOPHIE ALPHONSO STYLISTS KAILANA DEJOLE ISABELLE FISHER MAKEUP ARTIST ANTHONY LABUDA PHOTOGRAPHERS LAUREN BERMAN WEBB SARRIS GRAPHIC DESIGNER HELEN LEE MODEL ANTHONY LABUDA





Jeans - Brooklyn



The Lunar New Year is coming, but for obvious reasons the crowded places that are usually filled with festive people flourish no more. Yuefang and I wandered around this small town in northern China, Taiyuan, in hope of catching a shot or two in tribute to this city characterized by the dichotomy between novel seeking and nostalgia. With the kindest offer by a local boutique clothing store Maison Jane to let us pick whatever we want to wear, Yuefang decided to bring herself back to the 90s.


I remember stories from my boisterous uncle about how he used to “rule the street” with a bomber jacket and unparalleled breakdancing. A tomboy herself, Yuefang fixed her eyes on the bomber jacket at first sight. We aren’t gangsters ruling the street, but sneaking into an empty movie theatre, a grade school level trick, should be no problem. There are no more premieres or audiences now, but who’s to say we aren’t our own Oscar winner?


Denim Jacket – Chanel Vertical Striped Shirt – Chanel Red Beanie – moonsun Shoes – Doc Martens All Pants – Maison Jane

Empty malls give us the best circumstances to loosen up and be kids for a day. “Vintage clothes look better to model than to wear,” Yuefang told me. “Rubbish” I replied. And she was right. Instead of wearing them normally, we found it was ideal to cape it like a coat. Pop Mart toy company has always been pretty big in this country, and it was unusual to see a life-sized Hello Kitty without kids hanging around. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise, since it gave me the chance to appreciate the store for the first time. I always thought their colors were too exaggerated, but Yuefang’s style happened to complement the color palette just fine.


We also stumbled upon what looked There they are, linearizing what constit generation, Yuefang was apathetic to p the poster blocked our view, and my p the park bench was ruined. “No, no, ke suggested. If red means revolution and what does it mean now when those b Maybe I already happened to create a lion in our generation: aloofness.


like decades-old propaganda posters. tutes good socialism. Like many in our politics. I was frustrated by the fact that perfect shot of the cowboy resting on eep it. I like the red behind it,” Yuefang d rebellion in my parents’ generations, blood-boiling slogans become hollow? metaphor of the unique way of rebel-

PHOTOGRAPHER ED TIAN GRAPHIC DESIGNER CARLY LUCAS MODEL YUEFANG CHEN

Bomber Jacket – Zara



DIRECTOR KARLY MADEY STYLISTS KARLY MADEY ABBY RAPOPORT JAKE SWEAT PHOTOGRAPHERS KARLY MADEY SAM MCLEOD VIDEOGRAPHER MADELINE KIM GRAPHIC DESIGNER YUKI OBAYASHI MODELS SELVI RAMASAMY ELIJAH THOMPSON


White Tissue Dress - Abby Rapoport White Tissue Turtleneck - Abby Rapoport Tan Khakis - Lands’ End Yellow Turtle Neck - Damon Turtle Tan Skirt - ASOS Teddy Bear Blazer - Karly Madey





and scene I live for those moments that feel straight out of a coming-of-age teen movie, as cheesy as it sounds. Even if they aren’t particularly momentous; like when you’re staring out the bus window or screaming your favorite song at the top of your lungs on the highway. It’s moments like this that make me feel alive, as if I’m a character with a meaningful role on this planet. In the grand scheme of things, my life is, and always has been pretty monotonous. Everyday was the same, and not particularly stirring. There was beauty and excitement and love in the little things, but as someone who spends most of her time daydreaming, I always wanted to feel and experience more. I turned to music, TV, and movies: I lived vicariously through them, in hopes that maybe my mundane life in a dull and divided suburb could be the backdrop for an exciting tale like the ones I saw on the screen. But in the end, I always felt like a side character in my own story.

forbid your face and body start to show signs of aging; your worth lies in your fresh-faced glow and beauty. The thought of turning thirty is terrifying. The thought of letting go of your youth, however depressed and insecure and confused you were, is terrifying. My life is just beginning, why do I feel like I’m already running out of time? “I’ll miss the comfort of my mother and the weight of the world … / Yeah, I’ll miss the boredom and the freedom and the time spent alone .. / We’re fated to pretend” - Time to Pretend by MGMT

Now I’m doing college from my childhood bedroom. I had everything planned out: I would start to live my life when I turned eighteen. I would go to college, meet new people, create memories that would manifest into stories that were actually worth telling. A pandemic has turned the world upside down, and warped everything we thought we knew about ourselves and the world. I’m stuck “She was only seventeen / Oh, why are girls in in a bizarre limbo, where I’m comforted yet trapped songs always seventeen?” - 1980s Horror Film by by my youth. I’m almost soothed by the monotony Wallows and familiar tedium, yet I want nothing more than to escape it. I drive through this soulless town, We’re taught to believe that everything life could where the buildings are identical and originality is possibly have to offer is concentrated within your implicitly discouraged, and for a split second, a youth. That you’re supposed to feel the most glimmer of mellow nostalgia emerges from the beautiful and alive when you’re seventeen. That cloud of anger and resentment in my chest. For you only have a few more birthdays until your there was a time when this grey landscape was “good years” are over. And if you’re a woman: god not just a reminder of the unnatural conformity of


nameless extra. There is no rising action, climax, or happy ending. Instead, one scene ends and another begins. There’s grandeur and splendor in “Nostalgia / What a funny feeling / I feel depleted the moments that are unexpected and piffling. I / … Years that pass by / Can’t press no rewind” - realize now that I am not running out of time: with each passing moment, I am collecting it. Calamity by Zayn suburbia, but the playground for our rich imaginations and colorful dreams.

“Oh, I’m no longer a kid / Everything has changed The duality of growing up is terrifying yet beautiful: there’s so much to let go of, but so much / Nothing in my heart / And lightning in my brain” to discover. I often think about my mother, who Kids by Current Joys married and upended her entire life at the age of nineteen. Her youth wasn’t encumbered by a pandemic or idealistic hopes, but by the immutable weight of tradition and expectations (like a lot of the women in my life). Her “best years” began WRITER NEHA KOTAGIRI much later, when she chose to live for herself and GRAPHIC DESIGNER pursue happiness. Now, she pushes fifty, and I see CAMILLE ANDREW a young radiance in her eyes and smile that I never really saw before. “Fearing not growing up / Keeping me up at night / Am I doing enough? / Feel like I’m wasting my time” - Prom by SZA I’m still petrified of growing older, and I don’t think that feeling will ever go away. But I have found peace in understanding that life isn’t a movie. There’s no carefully planned, cinematic moments with curated lighting and an evocative soundtrack. There are moments where you will be the main character and moments where you will feel like a


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DIRECTOR COURTNEY MASS STYLISTS GABBY CERITANO COURTNEY MASS PHOTOGRAPHERS GABBY CERITANO GWEN MCCARTNEY VIDEOGRAPHER SARA COOPER GRAPHIC DESIGNER MACKENZIE SCHWEDT MODEL PAULA LUPUT



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STUDENT FEATURE:

When it comes to creative hobbies, senior Maheru Jahania is always on the lookout for new projects to work on. She found her passion for photography and videography at a young age, and Jahania began consistently creating videos this past summer . She often finds inspiration from other creators on Youtube, Instagram, and Tiktok. Over the past year, Jahania has started sharing her own videos on these platforms.


MAHERU JAHANIA

WRITER LUCY CARPENTER PHOTOGRAPHER LUCY CARPENTER GRAPHIC DESIGNER MACKENZIE SCHWEDT


“I like to think of my creative style as being exciting and experimental. A lot of times, my inspiration for making a video or any other type of creative work is because I found a new skill or idea that I want to try out. I don’t have a super structured workflow, but that usually helps me break out of any kind of mold I may be in and think more open-mindedly. I also see fashion as a way of expressing myself and it’s definitely something that makes me feel more confident. It’s a fun way of showing people a little bit of who you are. I see so many incredible things online that inspire me. One of my favorite YouTubers is Daniel Schiffer. His videos inspired me to try out the more ad/promo style of videos, which is one of my favorite things to do now. @ Calop_ on Instagram was another big inspiration for me in learning how to use photoshop and adding a whole new meaning to photography. Even on TikTok, I see so many people full of creativity that give me ideas everyday.” For Jahania, videography acts as both a means of creative expression and a tool for connection. After returning home at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, she began to explore new possibilities for her videos. “Although I’ve always been interested in videography and photography, I never went out and made things as much as I do now. Honestly, it wasn’t until last summer that I really started consistently creating videos. I had just


been sent home from my study abroad and was trying to adjust to endless days of quarantining along with the rest of the world. I felt stagnant at a time when I wanted to be pushing myself and learning new things. With all the time I spent watching videos on YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok, I decided to finally start making my own. It was something that made me feel I could still express myself and reach people, even at a time when we all had to be apart.” Jahania has recently started making videos of the campus as a way to capture her experience during her final year at Michigan. While documenting her own nostalgia, she’s found that many viewers experience these same emotions through her work. “Ever since I’ve been back on campus, I’ve really enjoyed capturing Ann Arbor. I kinda like to think of these videos as a way for me to remember this place during my last year here. It’s always really rewarding to have other people who go to Michigan connect with me when theysee my videos. I think the thing I’m most proud of in regard to my videos is the emotions they can elicit in others. I love whenever someone says a video makes them feel nostalgic or at peace. That’s something I want to continue to challenge myself to do as I keep creating.”


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