THE DRASTIC CHANGE IN TRADITIONAL OUTERWEAR MARKED THE WOMEN AS NOTHING SHORT OF PERFECTION, REPRESENTING AN ARTFORM THAT PROVIDED A PATHWAY INTO THE UTOPIA OF THE RICHES WITHIN MUGHAL COURT.

As the British Raj descended upon India in the 19th century, kathak was considered vulgar and was received poorly amongst missionaries. Their distaste for the dance spread quickly across the subcontinent as they were repulsed by what they perceived as seductive facial gestures and expressions, marking kathak dancers as “harlots''. They launched a movement against kathak, and primitive media was quick to dehumanize the dancers and regard them as nothing more than money-makers for brothels and a stage for open prostitution. The British’s misinterpretation of the delicate costuming of the Mughal era coupled with the body movements of kathak portrayed the dance in a negative light, mistakenly taking the elaborate dress and jewels as favors bestowed upon the dancers by rich lords and kings. Foreign invaders such as the Mughals and the British destroyed the one high-held respect kathak once carried, and the overwhelming effect of Western influence reduced kathak’s reputation to a street dance performed by prostitutes.

With what little power they retained, kathak dancers attempted to retreat back to the folds of the illusion of perfection they had been trained to portray during the times of Mughal leaders despite the oppression they previously faced. Chunis became less transparent in attempts to remain more conservative while being draped across their churidars and covering their hair. Saris became more fashionable amidst the dancers as longer, looser skirts and tighter blouses became increasingly popular. More gold jewelry was added, including bigger ‘tikkas’, a pendant dangled above their eyebrows on a chain. Amidst the easy flow of their heavily embroidered skirts, dancers lost themselves in a world of imagined reality as they conveyed the ancient stories from the realms of Hindu mythology. They were art meant to be desired yet not touched, ethereal beings that represented everything sacred about the utopian escape their performance provided.

Kathak’s forced transformation at the hands of ruling imperialists was used as a means of escape from the dismal realities of the world of colonization. Given the negative connotations bestowed upon the kathak culture as well as the colonization of the dance form itself, dancers retreated into the illusion of the utopia they had created within the art of kathak as a means to ensure the survival of the dance. The change in traditional costume added to the effects of the perceived perfection dancers portrayed through their elegant performances. The ever-changing styles and addition of brighter details allowed dancers to convey the utopia envisioned through the agency of the Hindu religion.

Written by Natalie Semersky

Celebrities post on Instagram, promoting their favorite brands and receiving sponsorships from huge fashion companies. Red carpets showcase revamped versions of ‘90s trends via media coverage. Teenagers scroll through social media, seeing friends post Shein hauls with monstrous loads of new, short-lasting clothing items.

As the fashion industry turns to technology to expedite its trend forecasting, design, sales and fabrication processes, the industry is able to detract attention from the impacts of fast fashion. The cycle of clicking a button, waiting for two-day shipping and discarding relatively new but fallen-apart garments repeats constantly. This planned obsolescence has caused the traditional two-season-a-year fashion industry to expand. Companies are pushing for a new clothing season every week, creating a 52-season-a-year standard. Behind the scenes, workers struggle to keep up with the grueling production cycle.

Fashion journalist Mathilde Charpail details some first-hand accounts from international clothing laborers describing the overwhelming impact fast fashion has had on their working conditions. Massive factories with huge numbers of workers and small, consolidated leadership bodies support the steady flow of production. Children like those in the Sumangali regime in South India are sent to fashion companies to labor for 3 to 5 years in exchange for a lump sum equating to their dowry. Charpail follows the story of thirteen-year-old Dulala, a boy working under the regime to create shirts for Zara, Walmart and H&M. The shirts he creates are worth $20 in America, which is what he earns in a month. Meeting quotas is his priority. From rescinded water breaks to increased hours, he faces human rights violations while the companies he produces garments for prioritize consumer satisfaction, advertising new styles and appealing to young consumers with their cheap products.

Stories like these are powerful reminders of the impacts of the modern fashion industry on public health and human rights conditions in countries known for production, but it is easy to purposefully ignore impacts like these and choose the convenience of ordering from massive retailers.

With innovations in fashion technology replacing existing mechanisms for production, the possibility for a utopian future where automation meets consumer quotas is surfacing. Industrialization is giving a glimpse into this future, which contrasts the very labor-intensive production process currently seen in the industry. While this futuristic possibility is slowly gaining popularity, the process of switching entirely to automation is difficult and unlikely, both from the financial perspective and the logistical one. Shifting factories from using cheap labor found in the Global South to expensive new technologies is fiscally unattractive to large corporations who currently receive no negative impacts from exploiting their workers. Additionally, creating a massive, industry-wide shift to mainly automated production would require an industry standard to use more sustainable practices — one that is unlikely in the near future.

On top of the impacts of fast fashion on the labor market, the constant production of new clothing has significant environmental impacts. Asian countries with more lenient environmental standards allow runoff from clothing factories to pollute freely. From fertilizers used on cotton fields to arsenic used for textile treatment and dyes, pollution in water is both common and detrimental to natural ecosystems. Sourcing clothing from countries with stricter environmental standards is a solution to this problem, but this comes at a higher price and larger inconvenience to speed-focused shoppers.

While modern-day fashion is convenient, cheap and trendy, its impacts socially, economically and environmentally are powerful.

The false utopia marketed by fashion brands is instead a harmful reminder of how easy it is to allow consumers to be peacefully ignorant of the faults in the fashion industry, widening divides between producers and consumers. By advertising technological advancements and boundless opportunities for fashion exploration as a byproduct of fast fashion, the dystopian impacts of consumption on those working for fashion conglomerates are hidden. This furthers the cycles of consumption and poverty, allowing ignorance to be a powerful weapon in the fashion industry’s success.

Flashing lights with an almost dizzying effect, vibrating techno music that frantically spikes and falls, and psychedelic drugs that amplify physical sensations and enrich the emotional landscape are all trademarks of the common “rave.” Names like “Escape” and “Beyond Wonderland” illustrate how these electronic music festivals are created with the purpose of providing a heightened out-ofbody, otherworldly experience. While these events are usually dismissed as simply another method of partying, behind all the glamour lies four core values. Colloquially coined “PLUR”—short for peace, love, unity, and respect—these main principles form the backbone of this unique subculture, one with its own values, rituals, and standard of dress.

Borne from a desire for expression by the gay and Black communities, raves, at their core, are a departure from dreary reality, and attendees aim to look the part. Their bodacious, dramatic attire was a form of peaceful resistance; in a culture that did not accept them, their proud self-expression was a powerful form of protest. Rooted in the union of two outcasted communities, raves have become a safe haven for all people. Thus it is no surprise that nonconformity has always remained central to the standard of dress; it is always clear to outsiders who is participating in this subculture, as attendees often dress in ways that separate them.

The distinctive nature of rave fashion has served as a source of inspiration for many fashion brands. Miu Miu, a derivative of Prada, successfully encapsulates the spirit of this escapist subculture and lives up to its fun and playful reputation with their 2017 Spring/Summer Collection dubbed “Resort.” To begin, this collection heavily features astronomical patterns; stars, planets, and discs that are reminiscent of the rings of Saturn decorate many of the pieces of this collection. These planetary influences coupled with their use of reflective fabric create notable celestial overtones, granting wearers with an aura of strangeness that naturally alienates viewers.

Besides these space ornaments, Miuccia Prada also experiments with other zany patterns including custom, pastel checkers and bright paisleys, stacking them on top of one another to create an in-your-face, unignorable statement. While the pairing of these patterns is already bold, Prada truly ventured into no-man’s-land when she paired these patterns with wildly different textures—ranging from satin to velvet—and added eccentric socks and chunky, heeled Mary Janes to the already eclectic mix. The end result is captivating, and Prada’s willingness to do something outlandish is an embodiment of the quintessence of rave subculture: self-expression to the highest degree, regardless of how bold or outrageous, and without judgment from the self or others.

With its feature of neon shades, satin bucket hats, and baggy pants, “Resort,” heavily draws inspiration from ‘90s rave fashion. Like its name suggests, this collection serves as an escape from the problems of today by taking viewers back in time; in retrospect, the past always seems like a comforting refuge. At first glance, this collection seems to reveal that rave fashion has taken quite the turn, as this ‘90s capsule is visually very different from the skimpy, mesh-heavy rave attire of today. However, it is upon closer examination that one realizes both are rooted in the same principle; whether it be by mixing and matching loud patterns or revealing a great deal of skin, both have allowed participants to use fashion as an outlet to temporarily rid themselves of an imperfect world in favor of a fantasy one, by tossing out the former’s rigid rules and restrictions.

The combination of a funky wardrobe, booming live music, psychedelic drugs, and the adoption of PLUR creates the enchanting atmosphere found at rave parties. It is the experience of being surrounded by people—some that are familiar, and many that are strangers—who all share a love for the music being played and a mutual understanding that this is an escape from the social pressures and problems of the outside, defective world that creates a beautiful feeling of connectedness: one so powerful that it is often described as magical. This sentiment of true unity, cherished by all who have had the luxury of experiencing it, but found in few other places, compels people to return and is what ultimately makes these spaces sacred.

Creative Director: Joy Chen | Editor-in-Chief: Tiffany Hue | Hair and Make-Up: Skyla Swafford |

Stylist: Lynn Aiko | Creative Operations Associate: Marie Godderis |

Social Media Coordinator: Anais Clancy | Arts & Culture Editor: Juliette Cornet

BY TIFFANY HUE + JOY CHEN