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Note from the Editor I’m an artist. I’m one of those kids who is still going through an existential crisis: the girl who freaked out when she turned twenty because ‘shit, I have to get my life together’. I’m pretty sure I haven’t slept in three days, maybe four. My blood pressure reading has more in common with the map coordinates of some Pacific island than a number a good doctor would approve. I drink way too much coffee and frequently forget to look twice before crossing the road. And I dream lucidly because I’m never fully asleep: I’m always conscious. ‘Arkham’ is the name of the fictional psychiatric hospital of the original Batman comics, housing famous patients including The Joker, The Riddler, Bane, and Poison Ivy. Patients who, although evil, retained at some point a conscience: an innate knowing of the magnamity of their actions. It is an asylum full of patients who may have, at some point, disconnected themselves from the primitive human understanding of right and wrong or from the notions of reality and fantasy. And in a way, Arkham is an ironic setting to host such behaviour, because isn’t part of what makes us human the unsettling range of emotion and the response to discrepancies of thought? It just seemed too fitting of a title to not borrow. Our quarterly magazine Arkham embodies that disconnect between the patients and those outward forces set by societal standards who disposed of them. Our Arkham recognizes the omniescence of choice: that with every action comes an array of equal and opposite reactions...that with every decision comes some kind of consequence. As you flip through this publication, interpret what you are about to see at your own liking. But here is my caveat to you: the content you are about to see may invoke in you an unexpected visceral response.

Yasamin Rahmanparast Director, Arkham

TABLE OF CONTENTS 05 / désir / covet me 021 / paresseuse / find me 027 / vanité / regard me 034 / colère / loathe me; fear me

“Black is modest and arrogant at the same time. Black is lazy and easy - but mysterious. But above all black says this: ‘I don’t bother you - don’t bother me’.” - Yohji Yamamoto


SHIRT & VEST: Brooks Brothers PANTS & SHOES: Diesel WATCH: Breitling



FOR HER: Agent Provocateur FOR HIM: Emporio Armani





FOR HER: Hervé Léger FOR HIM: Billionaire Boys Club

FOR HER: For Love & Lemons



LINGERIE: La Perla SHIRT: John Varvatos

MIRRORS rendezvous: forsaken through marble castles surrounded by tarnished blond jewels leaping through amethyst shadows above my mind when will i be stung by reality? a statue with the name of a grecian deity abandoned on a damp earth bone colour can be read on his face hollow; he crumbles with each step closer to my reflection

cancerous ice spreads like wildfire thrusting dazzling daggers of rusted warmth through my thread i stare at the metal seeping in my reflection am i withering away?






CUFF: Natalie Kelton



Necklaces: J.Crew House of Harlow Mikimoto

Our generation will be known for nothing. Never will anybody say, We were the peak of mankind. That is wrong, the truth is Our generation was a failure. Thinking that We actually succeeded Is a waste. And we know Living only for money and power Is the way to go. Being loving, respectful, and kind Is a dumb thing to do. Forgetting about that time, Will not be easy, but we will try. Changing our world for the better Is something we never did. Giving up Was how we handled our problems. Working hard Was a joke. We knew that People thought we couldn’t come back That might be true, Unless we turn things around

Unless we turn things around That might be true, People thought we couldn’t come back We knew that Was a joke. Working hard Was how we handled our problems. Giving up Is something we never did. Changing our world for the better Will not be easy, but we will try. Forgetting about that time, Is a dumb thing to do. Being loving, respectful, and kind Is the way to go. Living only for money and power Is a waste. And we know We actually succeeded Thinking that Our generation was a failure. That is wrong, the truth is We were the peak of mankind. Never will anybody say, Our generation will be known for nothing. -Jordan Nichols, 14 years old

Necklace: Vintage heirlooms

The man was looking off into the open field of snow outside as he tugged at his suffocating turtleneck. He had pulled on a drawer but it was stuck. He tried again, but it wouldn’t budge and finally he gave up. Placing her knife slowly onto the counter and wiping her hands carefully on her apron, the woman walked over to her husband. With a flick of her wrist she flipped a nearly invisible switch, and the drawer slid open. “It’s really quite simple,” she said. “You installed safety locks.” “Oh yes.” She picked up the knife and began cutting again. “You could have told me.” the man looked at the drawer and the cutlery inside. “Didn’t know you would be interested.” “Do we really need them? The kids are only visiting for a few days.” “Soon enough,” she said. She continued carving the meat and her husband looked off at the wall as he filled glasses with ice and water. He had spotted the soft rubber corners on the edges of every countertop. “It’s too hot, I need to get out for a minute.” He put his hand on the glass pane. “Don’t be ridiculous,” the woman said. She finished plating the meat and walked over to him. “Come, it’s time to feed our guests.” She kissed him on the cheek and walked from the room. He picked the tray up from the table and followed her. The families were talking, one above the other. Uncles embellished stories in booming voices as Aunts corrected them, only quieting when the man placed the food on the table. The woman stood and clinked her glass with a fork and even the children went silent. “I have an announcement,” she placed her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “You are all the first to know,” she patted her stomach, “that we will soon have a family of our own.” The cousins and aunts and uncles and parents took turns congratulating her, touching her stomach. She had lifted her hand from her husband’s shoulder, and he walked from the room without anyone noticing. He sat on the corner of their bed and stared out at the cold night, a crumpled note in his hand that he had not yet had the courage to give her. She had known exactly how to make him stay. - Savannah Rake


FOR HER: Coat, Zara FOR HIM: Shirt, Black Scale Pants, AllSaints

FOR HER (Left): Dress, James Perse Coat, Donna Karan FOR HIM: Shirt, Hood By Air Pants, Zara FOR HER (Right): Shirt, Mishka Skirt, Topshop Shoes, Sam Edelman

FOR HER: Shirt, Motel Skirt, Moschino Coat, AllSaints FOR HIM: Hoodie, Ovate



FEMALES: Topshop Hervé Léger BCBGMAXAZRIA MALES: Mishka UNIF Opening Ceremony





Agent Provocateur AllSaints BCBGMAXAZRIA Black Scale Billionaire Boys Club Brooks Brothers Breitling Diesel Donna Karan Emporio

Armani For Love & Lemons Hervé Léger

House of Harlow J. Crew James Perse John Varvatos La Perla

Mikimoto Mishka

Motel Moschino Natalie Kelton

Opening Ceremony Ovate Sam Edelman Topshop UNIF Y. Rahmanparast Zara

CONTRIBUTERS Editorial Group: Natalia Colichon Clarissa Koppel Danielle McGotty Jacqueline Miller Yasamin Rahmanparast FASM 210 : Prof. Oscar Betancur

Photographers: Brian Edwards (Paresseuse) Sabrina Jasmin (Vanité) Jess I. (Colère) Natalie Kelton (Désir) Models: Ines Arimany Heather Byler (RISE Models) Brendan Faulkner (RISE Models) Sawyer Greenberg (RISE Models) Chris Harris (RISE Models) Dakota Hokanson (RISE Models) Erin Kelly (RISE Models) Jo Nobile Carla Prato Savannah Rake Jordan Trinci-Lyne

Letter from the Creative Director To me, fashion is an art form, and there is no mistake that the beloved book you are holding is a piece of art, personal to you and for you. This book is a compilation of the wandering and broad ideas of five women looking to create a fashion book: a book different from anything else you would buy on the newsstand, something tactile and beautiful. We wanted to evoke an experience of luxury and exclusivity when reading it. Our goals were to set a new precedent: a precedent that set all magazines and literature to a higher standards, a precedent that made other editors scramble to achieve the same goals. A book that redefined what people think a magazine is. Magazines do not only have to show luxury, they can also feel and emulate luxury. The passion that we all feel for fashion runs through the pages of this book as it runs through our veins. We live and breathe fashion, everyday. It never stops. Instead of recreating a brand or past fashion editorials for inspiration, we were focused on our emotions to inspire our aesthetic and styling choices. We employed the seven deadly sins along with the constant struggle of love and loss of Christopher Nolan’s Batman as inspiration. This gave us a consistent feeling of conflict within the magazine, moving between melancholia and strength. The creators along with myself struggle with and relate to these conflicts on an emotional plane, similar to the ones evoked in the photographs you have just seen. My hope is that as you read this, you felt enlightened by these images and literature and that in turn help you with your own fears and weaknesses, as they did for us.

Jacqueline Miller Creative Director, Arkham

“ We’re art people: We’re the ones who have

to make life fun, interesting, weird and unsettling for the rest of this serious world. “


A literary and fashion magazine.