Georgetown Voice, 11/22

masquerade

THE FASHION ISSUE N o v e m b e r 2 2 , 2 01 9

the fashion issue

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November 22, 2019 Volume 52 | Issue 7

voices

Say It With Me: Ugliness is Power

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MAX ZHANG

voices

Haute and Bothered: The Willful Ignorance of Fashion Shows PAUL JAMES

Celebrating 50 Years Editor-In-Chief Sienna Brancato Managing Editor Noah Telerski news

Executive Editor Features Editor News Editor Assistant News Editors

Jack Townsend Katherine Randolph Rachel Cohen Annemarie Cuccia, Caroline Hamilton, Roman Peregrino

opinion

Executive Editor Voices Editor Assistant Voices Editor Editorial Board Chair Editorial Board

Lizz Pankova Leina Hsu Natalie Chaudhuri, Amanda Chu Inès de Miranda Sienna Brancato, Delaney Corcoran, Annemarie Cuccia, Lizz Pankova, Julia Pinney, Noah Telerski, Jack Townsend

leisure

photo SAREMA SHORR model KAKAZI KACYIRA dress ALICE + OLIVIA (3303 M ST. NW)

photo SAREMA SHORR model FELI SONGOLO shirt MODEL’S OWN

Executive Editor Brynn Furey Leisure Editor Ryan Mazalatis Assistant Editors Emma Chuck, Anna Pogrebivsky, Juliana Vaccaro De Souza Halftime Editor Skyler Coffey Assistant Halftime Editors Teddy Carey, Samantha Tritt, John Woolley

sports

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feature

As long as I’ve got my suit and tie: Georgetown’s implicit dress code

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photo spreads

masquerade: catholic prep FASHION ISSUE STAFF

BRYNN FUREY & INÈS DE MIRANDA

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Executive Editor Sports Editor Assistant Editors Halftime Editor Assistant Halftime Editors

Aaron Wolf Will Shanahan Jake Gilstap, Tristan Lee Nathan Chen Ethan Cantrell, Josi Rosales

design

Jacob Bilich Delaney Corcoran, Olivia Stevens Egan Barnitt Timmy Adami, Josh Klein, Cade Shore Staff Designers Allison DeRose, Alex Giorno, Neha Malik, Insha Momin, Cassi Sullivan, Sean Ye

Executive Editor Spread Editors Cover Editor Assistant Design Editors

copy

Copy Chief Neha Wasil Assistant Copy Editors Maya Knepp, Sophie Stewart Editors Christopher Boose, Jennifer Kret, Stephanie Leow, Moira Phan, Julia Rahimzadeh, Madison Scully, Cindy Strizak, Maya Tenzer, Kristin Turner

feature

Disparity in clothing access in D.C. can make it hard to dress for success

multimedia

Executive Editor Podcast Editor Assistant Podcast Editor Photo Editor

Kayla Hewitt Panna Gattyan Peter Guthrie John Picker

online

Executive Editor Jake Glass Website Editor Cam Smith Social Media Editor Eli Lefcowitz

KATHERINE RANDOLPH

business

photo BUSHRA SHAIKH model LASYA RAJAN outfit ALICE + OLIVIA (3303 M ST. NW)

General Manager Maggie Grubert Assistant Manager of Leah Fawzi Accounts & Sales Assistant Manager of Alice Gao Alumni Outreach

support

The opinions expressed in The Georgetown Voice do not necessarily represent the views of the administration, faculty, or students of Georgetown University, unless specifically stated. Columns, advertisements, cartoons, and opinion pieces do not necessarily reflect the views of the Editorial Board or the General Board of The Georgetown Voice. The university subscribes to the principle of responsible freedom of expression of its student editors. All materials copyright The Georgetown Voice, unless otherwise indicated.

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THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

contact us

editor@georgetownvoice.com Leavey 424 Box 571066 Georgetown University 3700 O St. NW Washington, DC 20057

on the cover

photo SAREMA SHORR model KAKAZI KACYIRA outfit BROOKS BROTHERS

(3077 M ST. NW)

design JACOB BILICH

Associate Editors Emily Jaster, Hannah Song Contributing Editors Dajour Evans, Damian Garcia, Julia Pinney, Katya Schwenk Staff Writers Nathan Barber, Maya Cassady, Lucy Cook, Jason Cuomo, Chetan Dokku, Steven Frost, Annabella Hoge, Darren Jian, Steven Kingkiner, Ryan Remmel, Orly Salik, Anna Savo-Matthews, Isaac Solly, Sarah Watson, Abby Webster, Katie Woodhouse

producers’ note

W

can be homemade and cultural too, so we extended the theme to reflect that. Though masks can protect us from being seen, in the design of the shield they reveal who we are.

But sometimes they can be costly. On the one hand, the clothes we brought in were worth more than our savings. On the other hand, wearing the clothes you are expected to can come at the cost of the clothes that make you feel like yourself.

Georgetown’s complicated history can pressure some students to raise their guard.

Dressing the part of a student at Georgetown is complicated when people that look like you were sold to pay its debt, or when students

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and faculty alike stumble over your pronouns because of how you look.

Catholic Prep is the imaginary setting for our photoshoot. Catholic Prep stands for the generic high school that curates Georgetown students’ style before they arrive on campus, concentrated in the hands of a class of young, white people, and for the way Georgetown prepares us to become young professionals in the way we conduct ourselves. Separately, Catholic and Prep are the two trends we wanted to respond to in our images. At Catholic Prep, kids wear suits. No one bats an eye when you take your headshot in front of Dahlgren Chapel.

These are the themes we hoped to reckon with in our photoshoot, Masquerade: Catholic Prep. In the written content, Voice staffers explored the history of dress codes at Georgetown (page 6), the realities of clothing insecurity for D.C. residents (page 14), and the ways in which high and personal fashion affect their everyday expressions of self (page 4-5).

The stress of wearing these masks can suffocate us, but they can also be beautiful, something we hoped to reveal in this issue.

Welcome to the masquerade ball.

Much love, Max + Kayla

An eclectic collection of jokes, puns, doodles, playlists, and news clips from the collective mind of the Voice staff.

→ TIM AND LIV'S QUIZ

→ GOSSIP RAT

Are You Our Type?

Gossip Rat here, your one and only source into the underground crime ring that is running rampant on campus.

Tim and Liv are going abroad for ~spring 2020~ and, tbh, are looking for one more hookup before we leave. Jk, we aren’t. Unless…

1. What’s your major? a. International/Global/Foreign ______ b. Something business or econ c. A sexy foreign language d. English 2. What Georgetown restaurant are you taking us to? a. &pizza, girl I don’t got money b. Martin’s Tavern c. Tombs d. O’Donovan’s on the waterfront

3. We’re not feeling too good, what do you do? a. Draw a bath and light a candle b. Bring us soup! c. Go on a CVS run to stock up on tissues and NyQuil d. “9-1-1. GERMS? So yeah, there’s a problem…”

4. What Disney prince do you emulate? a. Aladdin b. Prince Eric c. Flynn Ryder d. Prince Charming

Check your results at the bottom of this page!

→ LIV'S ANIMAL DOODLE

→ MAYOR OF TOMBS

Peacocks: Fashionable Turkeys

They’re in your clubs, your classes, and your friend groups. No escape.

Poppers are everywhere at Georgetown. My investigative team has been following the underground poppers market for some time now, and has come to the conclusion that literally everyone is doing them. Like, even straights.

Supposedly, the source can be traced back to the girls bathroom on New South 3, where Big Mouth Co-Creators John Mulaney (COL ’04) and Nick Kroll (COL ’01) sell the inhalant at, frankly, quite reasonable prices given its market value. Introductory microeconomics aside, this scheme is nefarious.

Everyone knows you can only sell poppers under the guise of being nail polish remover, and Mulaney and Kroll’s complete disregard of this fact is infuriating if not downright insulting. I ask you to join me and my team in demanding that Associate Director of Residential Services, Ross Iosefson, put a stop to this at once. Thank you. xoxo, Gossip Rat

→ AFTERNOON TEA REPORTS

All fashion-related content in a post-Devil Wears Prada world is redundant.

Reporter Brynn Furey waited four hours for this quote. Usually she accosts younger men at Tombs.

LISTEN TO THE AFTERNOON TEA PODCAST AT GEORGETOWNVOICE.COM OR ON SPOTIFY

Mostly a’s: You’re our type; Mostly b’s: We’re desperate, you’re our type. Mostly c’s: No, seriously, we didn’t even look at the results, you’re our type. Mostly d’s: On second thought, you clearly work for The Hoya.

afternoon tea by egan barnitt; peacock by olivia stevens; lacroix rats by timmy adami; photo by salonee marwaha

hen we first sat down to plan the fashion issue, we reflected on our experiences as Georgetown students. At first, we thought of our daily routines as a masquerade ball, a celebration that descends from the Catholic tradition in Venice. Hiding behind masks, people do what they otherwise wouldn’t before the paucity of Lent arrives. This is not so different from how we live as Georgetown students—whether it’s going to class in business casual before an interview or donning a tuxedo for Senior Ball.

Clearly, though, these masks run deeper than just Georgetown’s Catholic faith. They

November 22, 2019

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VOICES

Say It With Me: Ugliness is Power MAX ZHANG

I

don’t wear orange. Peach—perhaps; coral—risky; sienna—within consideration, but pure orange? The color of carrots and pumpkins, ubiquitous in autumnal decoration and street signage? Absolutely not.

To be clear, no trauma accompanies my orange-phobia. Rather, the conspicuous gap between red and yellow in my color-coordinated closet comes from a vague place of aesthetic criticism: simply put, I just don’t look good in orange. At some unidentified point, I took this up as fact and extinguished the color from my palate. When I encounter orange garments at retail stores, I label them as “ugly” and move on.

But what do I accomplish in assigning a label of ugliness to an otherwise joyful color? And what of ugliness itself, with its complex relationship to fashion, which is so often beauty-driven? Indeed, the clothes we wear are not separable from ideals of beauty: as aesthetic choices, daily outfits represent what falls within a socially permissible standard of beauty. I have spent countless hours of my life slowly eyeing my reflection to assess if I “look good” enough to leave the privacy of my room and subject myself to the critical eye of the public.

Of course, the interjection of new variables—affordability, environmental sustainability, practicality, comfort—has challenged the dominance of beauty as a factor in determining costume, especially with the rise of conscious consumerism. As the average college student, there are days where I feel enough lazy inertia that I leave my dorm in pajamas and a t-shirt because it is easiest to do so. Yet, visual appeal perpetually runs through my morning mental calculus when deciding what to wear, even if it is something I eventually sacrifice in favor of comfort.

In the often-superficial society we so viscerally exist in, clothing is intimately linked to public image.

It acts as the first and foremost line of expression. Aesthetics wield immense power, then, in informing social engagement and one’s sense of place in the world.

We dress beautifully as a means to elevate ourselves, whether to bolster internal self-confidence or to attract external favor.

The importance of traditional concepts of beauty only heightens within the industry, where fashion’s scope extends beyond synthetic fabrics to real bodies. Popular imaginations of high fashion conjure up images of flat stomachs, long legs, and strong jawlines.

Horror stories of girls on cotton-ball diets and dark-skin models facing colorism scar an already controversial industry. On catwalks and on billboards, men and women in modeling are hyper-saturated symbols of Western beauty norms.

Recent movements to diversify the image of beauty in high fashion have been marginal; the vast majority of models are still underweight and white, disparities which are reflected both in print and on the runway. Beauty in fashion has thus remained monolithic and important.

Accordingly, ugliness—imperfection, disproportion, and excess—seems to have no valid place in a world so 4

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

Max is a freshman in the SFS. He enjoys applesauce and open mics, typically taking part in them separately but in rare moments, together.

fixated on beauty. In fact, it seems to be the absence of fashion itself. “You’re so fashionable” is commentary directed exclusively at beautifully-dressed, and often beautiful, people. Ugliness is what fashion seeks to avoid: to the idealistic designer, a well-dressed world is necessarily a better one.

And yet, deliberate “ugliness” has bubbled as an undercurrent beneath mainstream fashion. In the last two years, chunky sneakers, oversized hoodies, and fanny packs have made appearances on red carpets and runways alike. Balenciaga even initiated stylized Crocs into their 2018 Spring/Summer ensembles. The awkward and the disproportionate have quietly invaded spaces that have prided themselves on their pristine picture of beauty.

There is something incredibly important, not to mention empowering, about this. Fashion should carry a subversive purpose. As a means of expression and, therefore, commentary, good fashion should seek to challenge and question the status quo it often represents. “Ugliness” poses an existential threat to traditional notions of fashion, but in doing so, forces audiences to reconsider the conventions they build their criticism upon.

Why is something necessarily “ugly?” What motivates the mind to otherize and create hierarchy out of shape and color? What subconscious biases reject certain items of clothing in favor of others?

A well-known designer particularly adept at forcing this contemplation was the late Alexander McQueen, who shocked audiences quite regularly with the avant-garde, strange nature of his fashion shows. One of McQueen’s most seminal runways was his 2009 Autumn/Winter collection, where models painted completely white strutted around a heap of trash, glaring at the audience. Lipstick horrendously overdrawn and heels nearly a foot off the ground, the models were, more or less, alien visions of “ugliness.” It is the eccentric intensity of this display—the stark lack of aesthetic appeal— that draws the viewer into a feeling of discomfort and, by extension, state of consideration about what makes for beauty anyways.

By embracing “ugly fashion,” wearers implicitly criticize the social conventions of beauty that so strictly govern what we put on, especially when few fashion houses (with some exceptions—see a Betsey Johnson catwalk for reference) have truly embraced ugliness. In this process, it re-distributes control of beauty standards to the individual. No longer is the clothed person confined to what a larger society might demand. Rather, they have claimed agency to decide for themselves what is permissible to put on.

Ugliness also humorizes an industry that often takes itself too seriously.

Even when asked to be gaudy, overly artificial, and humorous, most of the Hollywood elite failed to embody “camp,” an intentionally ironic and unnatural style of dress that served as the guiding theme of the 2019 Met Gala.

Celebrities, as representatives of the cultural and economic upper echelon, came in feathers and large silhouettes and called it a day. If the dress was big and flamboyant, that was good enough to comment on artifice, right?

Yet, contrary to the carefully curated, polished extravagance of the Met Gala elite, camp was first developed around awareness of an artificial, strange ugliness and a subsequent embrace of it. It found its humor in its deliberately abrasive separation from practicality and beauty, eroding traditional norms grounded in class, hierarchy, and wealth. Camp empowered the common person by glorifying what was otherwise seen as cheap and ridiculous. The widespread failure to adhere to the core tenets of camp indicates a popular culture unable to fully celebrate ugliness. “Ugly fashion” forces the mainstream to confront its lack of humor as part of the process to validate “ugliness.”

This is not to say that Tim Gunn ought to avoid prowling around the Project Runway workroom and tearing apart clothing ensembles of poor taste. It is not to say that the consumer ought to pull anything off the rack and be careless about garment choice. It is not even to say that I must adopt orange in my closet as a means of subverting the norm I have unconsciously constructed for myself. Fashion can still retain its standards of beauty and remain valid. Instead, the power of ugliness comes from its intentionality to find beauty and power in something that has been labeled as forbidden. It expands, rather than demolishes, existing notions of acceptability.

Ultimately, clothing is compelling because of presentation and ownership. For “ugly fashion” to work it must be deliberate, and its wearers and designers must have conviction in the garment’s power to comment.

Be it shower shoes or low-rise jeans, the “ugly” garment must convince its audience that it is not a mistake, but rather a choice. Intention is powerful.

Ugliness, when intended, is powerful. Sing praises of those who wear the ugliest of fashions and mean to do so: They have earned it. G

design by insha momin

VOICES

Haute and Bothered: The Willful Ignorance of Fashion Shows PA U L J A ME S

I

n the mid-19th century, Charles Frederick Worth created haute couture, the highest level of fashion, which emphasized the merits of clothing beyond mere utility. Designers had to couple knowledge of dressmaking with a mind for innovative styles. In 1945, the industry codified a set of standards to define the requirements for the haute couture label. The minimum staff size of 15 full-time staff members and 20 full-time technical employees, as well as the demand for two shows a year with at least 50 pieces each, significantly limits the number of designers who are able to produce haute couture, even in today’s increasingly mechanized fashion industry (consider that one dress, created by hand, can take hundreds of hours to complete). Some of the biggest names will be recognizable to most: Chanel, Christian Dior, Givenchy, Armani, Versace, and more.

Though small in number, haute couture shows, and fashion week shows in general, are monstrous occasions. They draw all manner of celebrities, hundreds of models, and significant media attention. Beyond these are cruise shows, where fashion houses design collections for a specific setting and display them there, such as Dior’s show in Morocco this past April. In addition to the usual production logistics, this cruise show had the added requirements of transporting everything to the staging area, collaborating on pieces with designers from all over Africa, and of course, flying there in a private jet. The lengths to which designers go to showcase their work makes for a striking spectacle, but is it one we can still justify?

The fashion industry, and its calendar of showcases in particular, draws as many ethical issues as it does column inches. Clothing retailers create an extraordinary amount of waste, and most people own far more clothes than they actually need. Displaying biannual collections requires a veritable army of models. Furthermore, the modeling industry can encourage a host of mental and physical illnesses in those aspiring to be just a bit thinner, whiter, or better-looking, and the shows’ demand for models feeds into this cycle.

While there have been sporadic attempts to include a natural range of body types, there has been no lasting paradigm shift in the field.

Sometimes it appears as though the whole occasion revolves more around the people wearing the clothes than the creations themselves. Legendary fashion photographer Bill Cunningham wrote, “The difference for me is I don’t see the people I photograph. All I see are clothes.” But when designers fail to create looks that push boundaries, they run the risk of relying on models’

Paul is a freshman in the SFS. He has been told he is the embodiment of :-), and he is looking forward to winter so that he can wear scarves and pretend to have style.

bodies instead of the artistic value of their own clothes to define beauty. When the fashion feels devoid of purpose, of any effort to address political or social causes, it becomes difficult to justify all the harms that accompany it.

Clothes have become boring because many designers at the supposed highest level of fashion are afraid of raising uncomfortable questions or themes. Not that the lackluster dresses lack wealthy buyers. Dresses that begin at $10,000 and extend into the millions create a tiny, exclusive sliver of the population that gets to enjoy the creations. Kevin Kwan, author of the popular Crazy Rich Asians series, spent fashion week in Paris with six notable Asian women who are repeat buyers of haute couture. He put the number of buyers at around 2,000 in the world. The highest level of fashion is closed off to essentially the entire population, save for the connected and ultra-wealthy.

These opulent displays cater to a select few—one woman said, “It’s actually like buying art. It is wearable art, and if you can put it on yourself, why not?” To answer: because these collections harm the environment, create a modeling market with a propensity to misuse its participants, and, recently, fail to push culture forward in any meaningful way.

But if we can consider haute couture art, as some of its buyers do, it may be judged by a different standard, one less focused on the commercial value. For all the attention they garner, haute couture shows actually lose money in most cases. Designing exclusive pieces for private clients, even with extravagant price tags, is too costly to justify the business model.

Instead, these fashion weeks and shows provide media attention and are used primarily as a marketing tool to sell wider margin items: handbags, perfume, undergarments, etc. Perhaps separating the business side entirely, or at least as much as possible, from the art is the most sustainable way forward.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art produced a book in 1995 for its showing of some of the finest examples of high fashion, and it notes, “The couture’s offering of distinction in design and technique remains a compelling force, one even more potent when much other quality has atrophied.” Unfortunately, haute couture no longer benefits from the same clear advantage in vision, such as the kind on display when that book was written. 1995 saw fashion pioneer Alexander “Lee” McQueen’s incredibly controversial “Highland Rape” show. At the time, he was slammed in the press for alleged misogyny and objectification, but in many circles now, his shows are held up as an example of what daring couture can be. And his appeal was not limited to shock value because McQueen was also an impeccable craftsman, having begun his career as a tailor at Savile Row. McQueen’s show was overtly political and visually shocking. The risk he took was once a cautionary tale, but now it stands as an example of what the fashion industry has lost.

German philosopher Walter Benjamin also lauded the merits of fashion as a reflection of our times, or even a predictor of those to come. In The Arcades Project (1940), he wrote, “Each season brings, in its newest creations, various secret signals of things to come. Whoever understands how to read these semaphores would know in advance not only about new currents in the arts but also about new legal codes, wars, and revolutions.” While some of this may be exaggerated, the point that fashion can be political, can be advocacy, can be opinionated, holds true. Some smaller labels have made forays into this territory. Stella McCartney, for instance, showed a collection in Paris in 2018 that put a premium on ethical practice: no fur, no skin, and stitching instead of glue. Even the invitation read, “I am 100% compostable (and so are you!).” It’s time these values were reflected in the highest echelon as well.

High fashion sits in a unique position to be a leader in culture as it was at its genesis. Given its place of pop culture prominence, it has an obligation to acknowledge the problems it is liable to create: gender, environmental, and body image issues, classism, and more. It does not make practical sense for a fashion house to strictly become a political commentator and neglect any kind of brand-building, but these shows don’t make money anyway. And a brand gains more respect, and probably more interest, if it is known for being a leader on gripping issues and in visual culture instead of an indulgence for a small class of social and financial elite.

The barriers between the two must be taken down. Fashion should mirror our times, and it can do that with a reinvention of its values, with an eye to the cultural and the artistic, rather than the commercial. Friedman commented on this with respect to the Milan show. “That’s what has been missing from Milan most of the week: that kind of ambition, that kind of willingness to take risks. So you stumble. So what? That’s how we fall into the future. And when we do, we need something to wear.” G

illustration by sean ye; design by neha malik

November 22, 2019

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as long asGeorgetown’s i’ve got my suit and tie implicit dress code

BY BRYNN FUREY & INÈS DE MIRANDA

“P

ersonal pride is an inherent quality of the weaker sex.”

These words feature in the 1962 Miss G handbook, Georgetown’s female Student Code of Conduct, which was the first introduction female students had to Georgetown’s dress code. This section, titled “Miss G Plans Her Wardrobe,” contains a full page and a half of fashion advice followed by a chart with wardrobe suggestions for occasions ranging from casual dates to evening tea. The university dress code at the time required gentlemen to dress in coats, collars, and ties.

After nearly 200 years, Georgetown’s dress code dissolved between 1966 and 1970.

However, the legacy of the university’s formal style has persisted. An implicit dress code still influences students’ fashion choices today, which prompts students to choose whether to conform to or disrupt the status quo.

The Miss G handbooks encouraged women to fill their closets with skirts, blouses, blazers, and sweaters, along with a classy pair of flats or heels. The administration wrote that a basic wool dress was “a must” because it could be dressed up or down with some simple jewelry. For nursing students, the guidelines restricted excessive makeup and any nail polish that was not light or natural colored.

Today’s handbook for students with clinical requirements has nearly identical language.

Any deviation from these regulations led to questions from the administration.

“Failure to observe principles of good taste in regard to attire and good grooming will be considered as an indication that the individual is in need of counseling,” Miss G reads. In the handbook, Miss G was told to be thrifty, but she was also reminded that “the trend is toward somewhat dressier fashions than might be found on a campus not located in a metropolitan area.”

The rebellious 1960s made way for sweeping cultural changes at Georgetown that dismantled many of the university’s traditions, including the Miss G handbook.

Although women had been attending the Nursing School since 1903 and were subsequently admitted to Georgetown’s other schools, it was not until 1969 that the College became co-ed.

The same decade saw the fall of The Yard, the College’s exclusive student government that was closed to students in other schools.

In a 2004 Hoya article, Hoya Editor-in-Chief Josh Zunbrum (SFS ’05) details a 1968 confrontation between a young Bill Clinton (SFS ’68) and members of The Yard.

Zunbrum’s article, quoting Don Casper (COL ’70), said while the men of The Yard were wearing suits in compliance with their dress code, Clinton entered a meeting defiantly in a black leather jacket. Because he was an SFS student, he was not permitted to address the College’s student government.

However, Clinton does not remember this particular incident.“That’s got to be an

A chart with wardrobe suggestions taken from a Miss G handbook, Georgetown’s female Student Code of Conduct.

urban legend,” he told the Voice while visiting the Tombs.

“I’m not saying I’m above it,” Clinton said. “I just don’t remember it.”

“The idea that you had to wear suits in The Hoya office and the idea that you shouldn’t have women in the college and the idea that you shouldn’t protest the government on the street all tied together.”

Urban legend or not, the 2004 article’s author believes the tale illustrates how students used dress code violations to challenge established ideas. “The suits became a symbol of all the things that people traditionally believed and were being thrown out in the 1960s,” Zunbrum told the Voice.

1953

“The idea that you had to wear suits in the Hoya office and the idea that you shouldn’t have women in the college and the idea that you shouldn’t protest the government on the street all tied together. And they don’t really have anything to do with each other, but they were just all the things that were believed by the students who were deeply traditionalist.”

Even after the official dress code had been abolished, Cynthia Paulis (MSB ’74), a former Voice staffer and one of very few women in the business school during her time on campus, remembers a consistent and neat style during her years on the Hilltop.

She noticed a significantly less formal style just across town at George Washington University. At Georgetown, most women wore skirts or dresses to class; men wore khaki pants and nice shirts.

“Georgetown was a very homogeneous population. It’s like, really good looking guys, really attractive women. It was just kind of cookie cutter,” she said.

Wealth also played an important role in campus fashion. Paulis, who worked three jobs as a student, felt pressure to “up her game” when she saw how attractive and formally dressed many of her peers were.

She recalls being amazed by the amount of money some students spent on things like clothes and cars. “I think they really kind of handpicked those students. They really came from a lot of the Catholic prep schools. There was a look that I think

1963

photos courtesy of the georgetown university archives; design by alex giorno and allison derose

Yasmine Salam (SFS ’20)

that they were really looking to achieve at Georgetown.”

Today, fashion at Georgetown is not as regulated by the university administration.

Yet, Elizabeth Gleyzer (COL ’20) believes students still adhere to a few staple items.

Gleyzer, dressed in a forest green knit sweater accessorized with dangly silver halfmoon earrings, said comfort is the most important aspect of fashion for her. She loves bright colors and outdoorsy clothing but does not think many Georgetown students are as creative. In fact, she said, it is a stretch to even classify Georgetown’s general attire as “style.”

“My pet peeve about Georgetown’s fashion is that their sense of fashion is just wearing Georgetown gear. I’ve joked like literally I walk around campus and the only colors I see are blue and gray,” she said.

For Gleyzer, it’s possible the uniformity of dress on campus stems from Georgetown’s reputation attracting students mainly interested in politics, government, and law. In her experience, this creates a pre-professional culture not mirrored at other colleges.

“When I tried telling people in Berkeley about the fact that people here wear suits to class, they just about shat themselves,” Gleyzer said, laughing.

Former Voice Managing Editor Ian Bourland (SFS ’04) remembers a very

1969

different Georgetown from the one Gleyzer describes. He recalls a strong countercultural movement among Georgetown students in the 2000s he believes was influenced by a broader shift in D.C. culture. Remnants of the ’80s punk scene thrived at the nearby waterfront, once the site of warehouse clubs, rock shows, and queer nightlife. M Street housed Smash!, one of Georgetown’s last record stores, until it closed in 2006. Up until 2010, Wisconsin Avenue was home to punk store Commander Salamander where customers could purchase band merchandise, hair dye, and rave clothes like baggy parachute pants and candy necklaces.

Bourland remembers Georgetown having a preppy aesthetic reflected in a Ralph Lauren-esque look of baggy-yet-stylish items like knit sweaters and jeans or chinos. But he and his friends stood out. He looked back on his crazy hair colors, band tees, and Doc Martens and saw his fashion choices as a way to express “independence of thought.”

Now an assistant professor in Georgetown’s Art & Art History department, Bourland has noticed a more homogeneous style in the way current students dress. He thinks Georgetown students in his era were less stressed than students are now, which he believes could factor into the heightened sense of professionalism in attire.

“I graduated before the recession of 2008. The economy was still pretty hospitable. We were coming out of the Clinton economy and in the early years of the Bush administration, so I think a lot of us were less worried about getting jobs,” Bourland said. “While we worked hard, and it was competitive, I think there’s a sense that you could have it both ways. You could be very rigorous scholastically. You could be part of extracurriculars. But there was a little more wiggle room to go out and enjoy the city, to be part of different communities.”

To Feli Songolo (SFS ’22), this flexibility is less common today. An implicit dress code lingers on campus, but fashion still serves as a way for members of the community to share their culture and background with the student body. A Congolese American who was born in Zambia, Songolo remembers that when he was accepted to Georgetown, people told him about how nicely students

1969

photos courtesy of yasmine salam and feli songolo

1970

dressed here. He felt like he had to live up to a student-imposed standard in order to fit in.

“There’s that stereotypical frat boy dress,” Songolo said. “I think when you have a place where it’s not too diverse, you’re going to have a set standard of how people dress and look and express themselves.”

But these unspoken guidelines give him the impression that people aren’t able to express themselves, or might simply not try to. Songolo feels more connected to his Congolese roots than his American citizenship. One element of his culture’s fashion that he enjoys, in part because it can be tailored to fit any individual style, is African Kitenge, a bright and vibrantly patterned fabric.

“A huge part of being Congolese, I feel like for me, is being able to wear those clothes with pride,” said Songolo.

Songolo recently attended the SFS Centennial Gala, a black-tie event which required a full evening dress or suit, which he pointed to as an example of a time he felt he had to sacrifice his culture for Georgetown’s.

While other students selected tuxes and ball gowns, Songolo wished there had been other options. He said that the event’s dress code, which asked for the highest degree of formal wear, did not make him feel welcome to wear his culture’s fashion. “There’s a specific kind of dress code that a specific community has.”

According to Songolo, some students at Georgetown are open to unique styles of dress. “People are very happy to see someone doing something different, and doing it in their own way,” he said. However, he believes others can be taken aback by looks they’ve never seen before.

Yasmine Salam (SFS ’20), co-president of the Arab Society on campus, says every student at Georgetown puts significant effort into how they dress. She sees the dress culture at Georgetown as very intentional, with each pocket of student life offering its own style.

“I feel like it depends on the bubbles that you hang out in,” Salam said. “I definitely feel like there is a European international-like presence in how people dress. I also think that there’s a very preppy look. I also think that there is like a more alternative indie

1971

look… but yeah, I do think that people think about what they wear a lot here.”

Salam said her style is inspired by geometric shapes seen in Islamic architecture, and she gravitates toward certain patterns or color palettes, such as those of the urban landscapes of Morocco or Lebanon. In practice, she tends to wear mostly black and incorporates her culture into her dress through accents like the gold bangles on her wrists with Arabic calligraphy running their length.

In her experience, students have been very welcoming of fashion from other cultures. “Georgetown is pretty accepting to dress the way you want, and represent yourself the way you want,” she said. “The way that one can integrate a culture or identity into fashion may have limits, but it’s easy to do so within the norms of the university.”

Feli Songolo (SFS ’22)

“You can’t get away with anything, and I’m not like Carrie Bradshaw where I come in with like, three fur coats on top of each other and say it’s a day,” Salam said. “But I do feel like, because people do care about physical appearances here more than the average college, that you can get away with looking quite put together or you know, wearing some Arabic iconography or things like that, and people aren’t going to give you such weird looks.”

Today, a handbook like Miss G might advise students to wear pre-professional staples like blouses and slacks over t-shirts and ripped jeans. While the composition of the Georgetown student body looks different than it did in the ’60s and before, there remains a homogeneity in student dress that few choose to challenge.

“People here that would want to express themselves feel that constraint to do so,” Gleyzer said. “With anyone that’s different, it’s like just being your radical self is already a statement and rebellion in itself.” G November 22, 2019

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masquerade: CATHOLIC PREP

photo JOHN PICKER model LASYA RAJAN outfit ALICE + OLIVIA

fashion issue staff producers

talent coordinator talent

makeup artist photographers

special thanks

KAYLA HEWITT MAX FREDELL JADEN KIELTY TY MCCONVILLE CARMEN FENDT FELI SONGOLO GINA KANG LASYA RAJAN KAKAZI KACYIRA RIMPAL BAJWA ISABELLE DENNY LIAM QUINN RACHEL HARRIS JOHN PICKER BUSHRA SHAIKH SAREMA SHORR BROOKS BROTHERS OF GEORGETOWN ALICE + OLIVIA OF GEORGETOWN MINISTRY OF SUPPLY

photo JOHN PICKER model CARMEN FENDT outfit MODEL’S OWN

(3303 M ST. NW)

photo SAREMA SHORR model LIAM QUINN suit BROOKS BROTHERS

(3077 M ST. NW) bag MODEL’S OWN

photo SAREMA SHORR model LIAM QUINN suit BROOKS

photo model model suits

SAREMA SHORR TY MCCONVILLE (LEFT) FELI SONGOLO (RIGHT) MINISTRY OF SUPPLY (3306 M ST. NW)

BROTHERS

(3077 M ST. NW)

November 22, 2019

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photo SAREMA SHORR model KAKAZI KACYIRA dress ALICE + OLIVIA

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(3303 M ST. NW)

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

photos JOHN PICKER model CARMEN FENDT outfit MODEL’S OWN

photo SAREMA SHORR model FELI SONGOLO (LEFT) suit MINISTRY OF SUPPLY

(3306 M ST. NW)

model TY MCCONVILLE

(MIDDLE) suit MINISTRY OF SUPPLY

(3306 M ST. NW)

model LIAM QUINN (RIGHT) suit BROOKS BROTHERS

(3077 M ST. NW)

November 22, 2019

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photo SAREMA SHORR model RIMPAL BAJWA outfit ALICE + OLIVIA

(3303 M ST. NW)

photo BUSHRA SHAIKH model LASYA RAJAN outfit ALICE + OLIVIA

12

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

(3303 M ST. NW)

photo SAREMA SHORR model ISABELLE DENNY clothes ALICE + OLIVIA

(3303 M ST. NW)

photo SAREMA SHORR model GINA KANG jacket BROOKS BROTHERS

pants

(3077 M ST. NW) MINISTRY OF SUPPLY (3306 M ST. NW)

photo SAREMA SHORR model ISABELLE DENNY clothes ALICE + OLIVIA

(3303 M ST. NW)

November 22, 2019

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disparity in clothing access in d.c. can make it hard to dress for success BY katherine randolph

O

n a cold November night in Georgetown, Ronnie sat against the wall of a closed store on Wisconsin Avenue.

The temperature hovered around 38 degrees, but Ronnie didn’t have a coat, so he was wrapped in a comforter. He was wearing a pair of navy slacks, a dark blue hoodie with the word NAVY in yellow lettering across the chest, and two beanies—one black and sparkly, one green and knitted. When you are homeless, Ronnie said, fashion is not your most pressing concern, but this outfit was a stroke of good luck. It fit well and kept him decently warm on a cold night.

“You wear what you can find,” he said.

“Sometimes you find it just right.”

Ronnie is one of thousands of people in the D.C. area experiencing homelessness.

According to the annual Point in Time Count conducted by the Community Partnership for the Prevention of Homelessness, there were 6,521 people facing homelessness in the District on January 23, 2019. 1,606 of them were children.

“Being able to have free professional clothing is so important in that area because they’re able to make decisions without any form of guilt, any form of anxiety, any form of worry.”

For low-income people in D.C., choosing clothing might not involve much of a choice at all. They must dress for survival and success, often sacrificing the clothes they might like to wear for the ones they need.

In Georgetown, a slew of middle- and high-end clothing stores line M Street and

design by josh klein

Wisconsin Avenue. A few blocks from where Ronnie was seated, there is a Ralph Lauren store that sells the designer’s popular, upscale clothing. A few shops over, Vineyard Vines hawks $98 pullovers, and around the corner, an Urban Outfitters offers vinyl records and trendy clothes. For Ronnie, a store stocked with plush sweaters he can’t afford is useless.

Most of the money he gathers on the street goes toward his next meal.

Ronnie was born in Chinatown and has been homeless on and off since 1974.

In total, he estimates that he has spent 12 of those 45 years on the street. As the city has gentrified, Ronnie has seen prices go up precipitously. Where he used to be able to buy breakfast for less than a dollar, he now must spend about $8 per day.

At 38 degrees that night, Ronnie couldn’t rely on D.C.’s hypothermia prevention programs because the District only announces a Hypothermia Alert when the temperature falls below 32 degrees.

Legally, D.C. is required to provide shelter for everyone seeking it during Hypothermia Alerts and dispatches vans to shelters equipped with jackets, gloves, and blankets.

This winter, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration predicts above average precipitation, meaning the upcoming winter could be a difficult one for those without housing and warm clothing.

Ronnie has found creative ways to stave off the cold. He sits on the lid of a styrofoam cooler to protect himself from the concrete. Ultimately, though, he credits his endurance during the winter months to biology. “Your body is a marvel of adaptability. I can sit on the ground and not be cold. You’d be real cold, but your body’d adapt to it.”

The Father McKenna Center distributes apparel

to men experiencing homelessness on the first and third Tuesdays of every month to alleviate the dangers of inclement weather. In the winter, they mostly offer pants, sweaters, jackets, gloves, hats, and scarves. Ned Hogan (COL ’74), director of development at the center, described what the center’s clients seek most often.

“They’re looking for something to stay warm, or in the heat of the summer something to help them stay as cool as possible,” Hogan said. “They’re looking for something that’s serviceable.”

Though most of the clothing the Father McKenna Center gives out is donated, Hogan said they sometimes have to purchase blue jeans, a much-needed item. He also pointed out that most, but not all, donations the center receives are helpful to its mission.

“We don’t need clothing with holes in it.

I know it’s very fashionable for teenagers and college students to wear jeans with holes in the knees to make it look worn and so forth.

That’s not what the guys need,” Hogan said.

The center also opts to purchase underwear instead of taking donations. “You wouldn’t wear your sister’s underwear, these guys shouldn’t have to wear somebody else’s.”

Not all locations that distribute donated clothing are equal in Ronnie’s eyes. He says he prefers to find his clothes from locations other than shelters because he doesn’t know where the clothes they distribute have come from. “Something about shelter clothes I don’t like. I don’t trust them,” he said. “I’ll wear them, but I don’t trust them. I don’t know, there could be something wrong with those clothes.”

Anna Stone (COL ’15) is well acquainted with the complicated politics of donations. While at Georgetown, she coordinated service projects with various nonprofits in D.C. Now she resides in Bozeman, Montana, where she works as a housing counselor for the Human Resource Development Council (HRDC). Stone says well-intended donors often fail to consider how useful their gifts are to the community they want to serve, and that organizations must walk a careful line when it comes to guidelines on donations.

“We have a Keurig in our office, and we just use the Keurig cups from the food bank.

If you don’t have a kitchen, you don’t have a Keurig,” Stone said. “Talking about specific donations is hard because it can come across as ungrateful. Like, ‘oh, I like that, but I won’t accept this donation.’ People don’t want to hurt that relationship. Any sort of specifics or being seen as being choosey is a dangerous prospect.”

Like Hogan, Stone sees gaps in some of the donations HRDC receives. Unlike the center, they serve men, women, and families.

Stone said she often doesn’t know what to tell parents looking for children’s clothing.

Most donors are adults and focus on sharing their own used items.

Beyond clothing for families, Stone said her organization needs more donations of professional clothing. At a job interview, a candidate’s clothes can sully an employer’s first impression. Job seekers—often told to “dress for the job you want, not the one you have”—can struggle to find professional clothes if they are homeless or low-income.

A 2018 Business Insider article advised readers to spend about 5 percent of their after-tax income on professional clothing.

According to the article, a high-quality business suit can cost up to $1,000, but if you’re looking to save, you might be able to find one for $250 to $300. For those without enough income to cover basic necessities, this cost can be insurmountable.

In Bozeman, Stone said, there’s a housing crisis caused by high housing costs and low wages, which means working people often can’t afford stable housing. In fact, many of HRDC’s clients are employed—something donors often don’t realize.

“If the people who are donating the clothing don’t have a conception of people that are working, they’re not going to be donating their old suits or anything because that might seem silly to them,” Stone said.

HRDC offers thrift store vouchers to clients to supplement donations so they can select their own clothes, including work attire.

D.C. itself is also in the midst of an affordable housing crisis. According to a September 2019 study by the Urban Institute, D.C.’s housing stock is 264,000 low-cost units short of residents’ needs. If economic growth in the District continues at its current pace, the area will need 374,000 more low-cost housing units by 2030. Throughout his life in D.C., Ronnie has seen D.C. affordable housing efforts stall and is skeptical the government will act any differently now.

“Talking about specific donations is hard because it can come across as ungrateful. Like, ‘oh, I like that, but I won’t accept this donation.’ People don’t want to hurt that relationship.”

“They let a brand-new, nice building be built in a black neighborhood in Southeast or Northwest. They open the building up and rich white people live there,” he said. D.C. law requires new developments of ten or more units to hold a set amount of square footage aside for affordable housing, but even that is often not enough. “The price of housing is too high for poor people.”

Ronnie believes black people bear the brunt of D.C.’s homelessness problem.

According to a 2017 article in Street Sense, a newspaper that reports on homelessness, 71 percent of D.C.’s homeless population is black. Ronnie doesn’t think this is a coincidence. “That housing stuff boils down to your race,” he said. “It ain’t just affordable housing, it’s a race issue. It ain’t about building a house, it’s a race issue.”

Even if someone has a job in the District, the cost of housing has outrun many workers’ wages and leaves little room in their budgets for professional attire. Founded in 1992 with the goal of providing mentorship and professional clothing to women in need, Suited for Change tries to help fill in the gaps.

Sena Tsikata, the group’s communications and development director, said though the women they serve vary in everything from profession to education—some of their clients only have high school diplomas, while others have master’s degrees—many of them are mothers. Tsikata said about 69 percent of their clients are the primary breadwinners for their families and often feel pressured to choose between necessities like diapers and groceries and their own clothing needs.

“What we are doing is helping them not have to make that decision, helping them see that they can focus on their families and still focus on themselves without having to lose out,” she said. “Being able to have free professional clothing is so important in that area because they’re able to make decisions without any form of guilt, any form of anxiety, any form of worry.”

When women have completed job readiness programs with partner organizations, they can get a referral to Suited for Change, which will pair them with a trained volunteer who can help them

select business attire and accessories for interviews. After a woman has been offered a job, she can come back to Suited for Change and pick out a week’s professional wardrobe so she can look her best at work.

“The clothes that we wear have a huge impact on us because we’re either going to walk into a place feeling confident or not based on what we perceive ourselves to look like,” Tsikata said. “Once that outfit is placed on them, they can actually now see it happening.”

Tsikata said Suited for Change aims to serve as many women as possible. They make sure to carry clothes for women size 14 and above, unlike, they say, many other nonprofits doing similar work. Most of the clothing they distribute is donated through partner organizations and women’s groups, but if the boutique is low on plus sizes, they partner with a local store to purchase appropriate sizes at discounts to give to their clients.

“We have such a diverse group of incredible women that we serve here,” Tsikata said. “We reflect the everyday woman.”

But these logistical concerns are not the only difficulties for those who struggle to find clothing. Hogan believes there is an immediate stigma passersby associate with homelessness.

“One of the struggles that we always see is the way that somebody treats the homeless on the street when they look homeless, and you often watch people avert their eyes and cross the street to get away from somebody,” Hogan said. “We treat them as if they’re invisible. We don’t give them the respect that they deserve for being a human being.”

To Stone, who believes the first step to assisting people experiencing homelessness is stopping and having a conversation with them, the perception of homelessness can limit the help given to those in need. And for those experiencing homelessness, the struggle to find clothes can limit how they express their identity.

For many people, a t-shirt might reflect a favorite color, musical group, or team.

When a person relies on donated or thrifted clothing to make ends meet, they lose agency over these decisions, and their clothing becomes depersonalized. “It’s the experience of homelessness being isolating and really making people feel powerless,” Stone said. “The little pieces of identity that can come from clothing are sort of distorted.”

On that chilly night on Wisconsin Avenue, Ronnie was less concerned with questions of identity and selfconfidence and more focused on the winter ahead. Asked what he would wear if he could choose any outfit, he was all about practicality. “A pair of thick pants, thick pants. A thick shirt, a sweatshirt.

Something thick and heavy.” G November 22, 2019

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check out georgetownvoice.com for more.

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THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

photo SAREMA SHORR model FELI SONGOLO (LEFT) pants MINISTRY OF SUPPLY

(3306 M ST. NW)

model KAKAZI KACYIRA

(RIGHT) suit BROOKS BROTHERS

(3077 M ST. NW)