Fantasy Issue

the fantasy issue

From a young age, girls often plan their wedding dress or their prom dress. Author Claire O’Shaughnessy explores the gendered and societal implications behind the idea of the dream dress.

Shipwreckers

First alluring, then dangerous, sirens — beautiful humanoid creatures who dwell in dark waters — emerge from the depths to claim their next victims.

Editorial photoshoots have the potential to not just shape, but transform an artist’s celebrity persona. Abigail Abdi broaches the fantasy of the photoshoot and how it creates new realities.

Finding Our Place Among the Stars

When the young adult dystopian craze swept the nation, Audrey Clarendon noticed that nightmarish storylines were drawn from the realities of people of color. She discusses afrofuturism, sci-fi rooted in Black joy, as an alternative.

Swords and Sapphics

Bi panic! Writer Alea Wilkins breaks down how female fantasy characters sparked her and others’ bisexual awakening.

The Fantasy World of Editorial Shoots Wings and Whimsy

Take flight on the wings of storybook fairies with faith, trust, and a fresh take on femininity.

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF

Jude Cramer & Amina Elmasry

PRINT CREATIVE DIRECTOR

Sara Gronich

PRINT MANAGING EDITOR

Vaibhavi Hemasundar

PRINT DESIGN EDITOR

Quynh-Nhi Tran

DIGITAL DESIGN EDITOR Isabelle Hauf

MEMBERSHIP DIRECTOR Sara Frank

DIGITAL MANAGING EDITOR

Molly Van Gorp

COPY EDITOR Gabi Kurzer

SOCIAL MEDIA EDITOR

Emi Silverstein

FINANCE DIRECTOR

Sam Albright

STYLING DIRECTOR Lisa Vicini

DIGITAL CREATIVE DIRECTOR Yola Mzizi

PRINT MANAGING EDITOR

Erica Davis

DIGITAL DESIGN EDITOR Ruth Ellen Berry WEBSITE DESIGNER Meher Yeda

DIGITAL MANAGING EDITOR Rebecca Aizin

ASSOCIATE EDITOR Carly Witteman

MULTIMEDIA EDITOR Libby Markham

MULTIMEDIA EDITOR Tara King CORPORATE DIRECTOR Grace Shi

STYLING DIRECTOR Laila Simone Robinson

CORPORATE TEAM

Abu Hoque, Aditi Ghei, Allison Gould, Annie Ho, Annika Srivastava, Benjamin Weiss, Catalina Castro, Claire Wu, Hamnah Malik, Iliana Garner, Laila-Aicha Adouim, Lila Weiner, Mia Rhee, Nicole Feldman, Raya Bryant-Young, Rebecca Chen, Samantha Ortiz + Tanya Parasher

DESIGN TEAM

Margeaux Rocco, Allie Wicks, Sabrina Eicher, Wendy Zhu + Zara Hasnani

EDITORIAL TEAM

Abigail Abdi, Alani Cox-Caceres, Alea Wilkins, Anna Souter, Audrey Clarendon, Augustus Glick, Austin Kim, Catherine Duncan, Claire O'Shaughnessy, Divya Bhardwaj, Ella Kuffour, Erin Corridon, Eve Leupold, Fatima Jalloh, Haben Fessehaizon, Halliday Mafrige, Isabella Grau, Julia Mkrtychian, Kalycia Hodge, Kira Gopinath, Lauren Cohn, Lucia Shorr, Marija Jovic, Maya Krainc, Nyla Gilstrap, Rahib Yaher, Rebecca Aizin, Tamara Ulalisa +Xiwei Elias Fan

MULTIMEDIA TEAM

Anoushka Dasgupta, Aria Wozniak, Chiara Dorsi, Kim Jao, Kineyshi Fils-Esperant, Maddie Morse Sama Ben-Amer, Sophie D'Amato, Ysa Quiballo + Zai Dawodu

PHOTOGRAPHY TEAM

Anto Mufarech, Chirag Bachani, Christina Yao, Grace Deng, Hannah Carroll, Julia Chu, Julia Nichols, Madison Smith, Marli Katz + Maryam Ikuforiji

SOCIAL MEDIA TEAM

Angela Zheng, Isabella Moran, Kate Perez, Kayla Eichmann, Lucia Koo, McKenna Frey, Paola Hernandez, Rhea Dhar + Sarah Lonser

STYLING TEAM

Allison Arguezo, Anthony Barba-Perez, Daisy Brockhouse, Eloise Brotzman, Alani Cox-Caceres, Ilise Angel, Julia Greenberg, Kenny Davis, Nia Robles, + Shelly Rood

"My favorite fantasy character is Rapunzel. I love Rapunzel because she is independent, creative, and determined. I also admire how she recognized that breaking the rules is sometimes necessary."

"My favorite character is probably the Faun from 'Pan's Labyrinth.' The character design was just whimsical and bone-chillingly horrifying enough to immediately hook me. After finishing that movie, Guillermo del Toro quickly became one of my favorite directors."

"My favorite fantasy character is The Doctor from 'Doctor Who.' As a kid, I was obsessed with his adventurous spirit, wit, and charm. I always hoped I could one day be his companions, time traveling to ancient Rome or thousands of years in the future. I even started wearing red converse just because The Doctor wore them!"

"My favorite fantasy character is Howl from 'Howl’s Moving Castle.' I love Howl’s casual wizard aesthetic, and I especially love his blue and pink diamond-print jacket. What I like the most about Howl is that even though he’s a fantasy character, he has flaws, and he has to learn to overcome them."

thoughts

FROM THE EDITORS

Fantasy, by definition, is unachievable. But that’s never stopped us from falling in love with the impossible. From the moment we can understand the world, we latch onto the fantastic.

For one of us, that meant being a diehard “Percy Jackson” fan growing up, with a special place in his heart for the son of Hades, Nico di Angelo — even before he became the series’ first queer character and made the story that much more impactful. The other fell in love with macabre folk tales and mythology, from the chicken-legged hut of Baba Yaga to the child-snatching fair folk, providing a weird yet magical lens to experience the world through.

Those are just two stories of how fantasy has shaped our real-world lives, and in the pages of STITCH’s Fantasy Issue, you’ll find plenty more. This is one of our favorite editorial packages to date, including ruminations on childhood favorites like “Cinderella,” “The Little Mermaid” and “Pirates of the Caribbean,” projections forward to a sci-fi Afrofuturist wonderland, and even essays on the day-to-day fantasies we indulge in, from social media to theater and fashion magazines (how meta!).

Those words come to life in our photoshoots, featuring three classic fantasy creatures with a modern twist and an otherworldly aesthetic. Fairies embrace childlike wonder and the enduring power of stories. Sirens embody dangerous beauty and the wonder of the unknown. And vampires — in our case, queer vampires — walk the fine line between pleasure and pain.

Who knows why fantasy worlds, places we can never reach, strike such a chord with so many people? But they do. People have long found comfort in the magic of disappearing into fantastical realms and new worlds, and now, STITCH has created its own in the pages of this issue.

jude cramer & amina elmasry

DREAM DRESS ' the journey to find the

Sweetheart or scoop neck? Glitter or lace? Mermaid or empire?

By age 10, I had my dream dress figured out: a full princess ballgown with a strapless bodice (even though Mom would hate that) and a lace veil with an 8-foot train.

My vision formed from hours of binge-watching “Say Yes to The Dress” and playing bride simulator on GirlsGoGames. By the time I discovered Pinterest in middle school, my ideation entered a new level of precision. When it was finally my turn to attend a Homecoming dance, I was well practiced in the art of calculated garment selection; my instincts told me the preparation and execution of the perfect look for this rite of passage was a deadly serious matter.

And I wasn’t alone in my interest. I recall flipping through picture books with my friends, shoulders bent studiously over illustrations of fairy-tale weddings. Some of my earliest brushes with conflict were arguments over which Disney princess had the prettiest dress (I was, and still am, an ardent defender of Aurora).

But even when we disagreed, a tangible urgency reverberated between us, as if the question of tulle or taffeta was a life-altering decision.

After all, what kid hasn’t seen “Cinderella,” the prototype Disney princess movie (yes, Snow White was released first, but Cindy’s the real it girl)? When her story starts, she’s an unspecial orphan, trapped under the thumb of her stepmother and overshadowed by her spruce stepsisters.

That is, until her magical makeover. A few flicks of her Fairy Godmother’s wrist and Cinderella’s dirty apron transformed into the iconic blue ball gown which

There’s no debating it — that dress changed her life.

All hope seemed lost when her plisse reverted to polyester at midnight. Luckily, her abandoned shoe stood as the saving evidence of her ephemeral elegance.

Yes, the perfect dress was the crown jewel of my childhood fantasies. But it wasn’t the reason I wore the tiara in the first place.

Because what’s a prom without a date, a bride without a groom, a ball without a prince?

The media I consumed as a child was clearer than Cindy’s glass slipper: “fantasy” meant finding a man, and being beautiful was the way to make it happen.

So if a fairy godmother wasn’t flying my way, I’d better Bippity-boppity-boo myself.

But does this mean all my dress daydreams were really about a nameless, cookie-cutter man? We’re often told to listen to our inner child. Is pleasing my “prince” the only thing mine cares about?

And if my first fashion fantasy was all about a man, what does that say about my interest in fashion as an adult?

But, you know what – at the time, I couldn’t see another option. So today, I choose to look backward with optimism.

In Cinderella’s world, beauty is synonymous to socioeconomic mobility. When I placed myself in her raggedy shoes, I craved the same power to forge a better life. Planning my dress was a way to prepare for a prosperous future.

And I wasn’t doing it alone – all those afternoons spent debating details and poring over picture books brought me closer to my childhood friends. At the same time, I began to explore my individuality; How was my dream dress different, and what did that say about me?

Whether you’re beholden to a literal man or to the anonymous, hulking patriarchy, the perceived obligation to please is hard to relinquish. But I refuse to lose something which has brought me joy since childhood. Instead, I’m learning to indulge my fashion fantasies without checking my reflection in the male gaze.

So yes, I’ll have the gown – prince or not.

I'LL HAVE THE GOWN — PRINCE OR NOT.

A New Generation of Dreamers

By Nyla Gilstrap

Designed By Margeaux Rocco

When I was in elementary school, my favorite fairy tale was “Liza Lou and the Yeller Belly Swamp.” It follows the story of a clever young Black girl who lives with her mother in an area full of nefarious creatures: haunts, witches, “gobligooks,” etc. Each day, Liza Lou’s mother tasks her with an errand and she must find a way to get through the treacherous swamp and complete it without succumbing to various dangers. No big deal for Liza Lou. She skirts peril with pure ingenuity each time, triumphing over her foes with a quick-witted, cunning scheme before skipping off to her destination. With her meticulously groomed afro and her hands on her hips, she showed me that Black girls could conquer anything.

I thought of Liza Lou when Halle Bailey, a Black singer and actress, was announced for the role of princess Ariel for Disney’s upcoming live action version of “The Little Mermaid.” When the trailer came out, my TikTok feed was overrun with videos of young Black

kids watching the television with wide, twinkly cartoon eyes as Halle gazed up at the surface with the same longing expression Ariel has had since 1989. “Mommy, she’s Black!” one girl exclaimed, her gaping smile reflecting both shock and awe.

That’s what a fairy tale can do when it’s made with you in mind.

These stories are meant to stretch our imagination, guide us toward a new conception of reality where magic really does exist and nothing is impossible. A forgotten stepdaughter who cleans cinders can become the princess of an entire kingdom with the help of a fairy godmother and some lovable mice. A princess comes back to life with a true love’s kiss. A beast is made human again even after the last petal falls from an enchanted rose. As a child I devoured these fairy tales as a mesmerized yet distant spectator, trying desperately to picture myself in Cinderella’s blue dress, surrounded by swirls of twinkling fairy dust. But I knew that these enchanted worlds weren’t mine to

live in, and the big fairy tale project never worked as it was intended to. Maybe the impossible can be possible — just not for me.

Prior to Halle Bailey’s casting, Disney had only had one other prominent Black princess who spent the majority of the movie as a frog. While I had the VHS tape for the 1997 made-forTV version of “Cinderella” that starred Brandy and Whitney Houston, I never got to see it on a screen bigger than an Etch A Sketch. Both the heartfelt positive responses and the fierce online backlash against the new Ariel film remind us that fairy tales can be incredibly powerful. When these stories feature Black leads in previously white roles, Black kids start imagining themselves doing the impossible. It’s a subtle revolution, but it’s revolutionary nonetheless.

In an interview with entertainment magazine Variety last August, Bailey said, “I want the little girl in me and the little girls just like me who are watching to know that they’re special, and that they should be a princess in every single way…That reassurance was something that I needed.” I picture Liza Lou drifting peacefully along the waters of the Yeller Belly Swamp, the first character who showed me I could be the center of my own imaginative possibilities. Ariel is not just a fictional character — she and her fantastical comrades make up the cultural fabric this new generation will be raised on. She is inextricably linked to their collective psyche, just like Liza Lou and the other fairy tales we grew up on were linked to ours. This means a new generation of Black kids will be empowered to dream. That’s pretty magical.

That’s what a fairy tale can do when it’s made with you in mind.

Image Via Disney

SHIPWRECKERS

First alluring, then dangerous, sirens — beautiful humanoid creatures who dwell in dark waters — emerge from the depths to claim their next victims.

THE FANTASY WORLD OF EDITORIAL SHOOTS

Written by Abigail Abdi

Designed by Sabrina Eicher

Editorial shoots are the lifeblood of experimentation in fashion. They take a more creative and exploratory approach to showing the evolution and metamorphosis of a subject.

Beyoncé’s editorial shoot for British Vogue and Robert Pattinson’s shoot for GQ are examples of such reinventions. For both stars, metamorphosis has been key to their development. Beyoncé went from Destiny’s Child member to solo artist, from singing about love and confidence to lamenting about the pain associated with infidelity and betrayal, all the while expressing Black joy.

Robert Pattinson’s evolution has been markedly different. Since "Twilight," the actor has been primarily viewed as Edward Cullen, the pale, creepy vampire who fell in love with a human.

Even though Pattinson has been very vocal about his hatred of filming the five-part saga, his fans still see him as Edward.

During the two years of the COVID-19 pandemic, the two

Editorial shoots are the lifeblood of experimentation in fashion.

" "

artists have had a chance to be removed from the spotlight and focus on their craft. And for both of them, this meant some serious renovations.

WHO / IS /ROBERT / PATTINSON?

Robert Pattinson’s evolution came first. In 2019, Pattinson was cast as Bruce Wayne in the new Batman film produced by Warner Bros. This was a shock to many fans, who knew him primarily for his role as Edward Cullen. The dark antihero role of Bruce Wayne felt so far off from Edward Cullen’s brooding competitions with a werewolf for a human’s love. Many people believed Pattinson was the wrong choice for the role. But, his photoshoot for the March 2022 cover of GQ changed a lot of minds.

While fans have acknowledged (and even memed) Pattinson’s eccentricism in his "Twilight" interviews, his personal style did not match his personality. In interviews and social media appearances, Pattinson mostly wears black clothes. However, in the GQ photoshoot, Pattinson’s eccentricism translates into brightly colored clothes and a wild edge that was previously unknown to his audience.

I was shocked when I saw these photos. I couldn’t believe this was the same actor that told Kristin Stewart, “Hold on tight, spider monkey,” in the "Twilight" movie. And yet there he was. Dripping in Chrome Hearts jewelry and the best brands right now and looking feral but contained. Pattinson was photographed by Jack Bridgland, whose photography style focuses on portraying vibrant colors and capturing his subjects’ energy. After this shoot, Pattinson’s fans were suddenly aware of his ability to completely transform himself depending on whose camera he was behind.

Images via: GQ

THE / RENAISSANCE / COMES / IN

PARTS

EVOLUTION / METAMORPHOSIS

Beyoncé’s transformation was less of a shock and more of an anticipation of where the 28 Grammy Award-winning artist would go next. But I doubt anyone was prepared for what she was planning.

After six years of quasi-radio silence post-“Lemonade,” the woman at the top of the music industry revealed photos from her July 2022 British Vogue cover and editorial shoot ahead of her newest album release.

Beyoncé is known for her ability to give a performance by using fashion and imagery to communicate with her audience. But the release of the British Vogue photoshoot was completely different. The regalness she always possesses played the backdrop to the sharp colors, opulent styling and power captured by legendary Brazilian photographer Rafael Pavarotti. The images were the statement of the Black female pride that Beyoncé has spent her entire career cultivating and sharing with her audience.

Pavarotti created a campy, maximalist fantasy world. Beyoncé stands on a dancefloor or sits on a giant disco ball, small teasers of the genre of the upcoming album, illuminated by red lights. The clothes she wears are whimsical, dramatic, and decadent. Pavarotti’s photography style deepens the message Beyoncé shares with the world through her clothes and set design, by painting her as the supreme being of this little universe and reminds everyone of her ability to reinvent not only

Images via: Vogue

herself, but culture and music as a whole. It is fitting that her newest album is called “Renaissance,” a term associated with fundamental change on a cultural level.

The album primarily represents a huge shift in her aesthetic and sound, which was foreshadowed in the British Vogue shoot. The dance album is entirely drawn from Black and Latino LGBTQ+ ball culture. The album covers themes of joy, confidence and love, but it is produced in a way Beyoncé had barely explored previously. The accompanying editorial shoot primed her audience for the tonal shift. Pavarotti’s camerawork and editing forced the audience to see Beyoncé from a new angle — as an alien superstar born from isolation and pain, destined to flourish in her newfound joy.

FANTASY / AS / A / MEDIUM

Robert Pattinson’s GQ shoot and Beyoncé’s British Vogue shoot were very different but both photographers created fantasy worlds for their subjects to reinvent themselves in front of a camera. The worlds they were placed in reflected their metamorphosis and the direction they were heading towards in the future and fans that saw these fantastical universes had to face the new versions of the actor and musician they love. The power these shoots had cannot be understated as they completely reframed Pattinson and Beyoncé and provided a medium for their evolution to be seen and acknowledged by all.

Beyoncé is known for her ability to give a performance using fashion and imagery to communicate with her audience.

G eneration Z has grown up on Instagram. At its inception, the app was known for grainy filters and pictures of pets, but it is now home to microinfluencers, brand ambassadors and burgeoning internet celebrities. Instagram hosts a whole slew of unspoken rules: how to post, finding the golden ratio of likes-to-followers and followers-tofollowing and how often to post.

In the age of social media, how you present yourself on Instagram, whether we’d like to admit it or not, is meaningful. People use social media profiles to scope out red flags after a first date; we follow each other on Instagram just as often as we ask for numbers. Many Northwestern roommate origin stories started on the NU Class Instagram and through direct messages.

Akili Moree, a fourth-year studying Communications, is an ardent critic of social media and the cultures it creates online. He dissects this modern cultural phenomenon in his “internet analysis” TikTok series, which has amassed over 100,000

followers and millions of views. “Instagram just does not allow people to share their thoughts in a meaningful way,” Moree says. “By nature, it’s just, like, all about the performance.

Moree explains how the fantasy of Instagram plays out in our daily lives. The desire to seek out beauty is innate to human nature. Yet Moree says Instagram has deepened this desire for many young people.

“I just think we kind of morph our lives into making it look pretty,” Moree says. “The lines kinda get blurred sometimes between what you’re doing because you actually like it and what you’re doing because you think it looks good or you think it makes you look better.”

Moree finds that Instagram feeds into the hyper-awareness of the self: how we look, who we associate with, and how we aestheticize our lives. In the past, Moree has even found himself using this as a driving factor in some friendships.

The shallow nature of Instagram seems to produce a vain, selfindulgent, and self-important culture — both inside and outside of the screen.

Moree expressed the notion that there will always be influencers — Instagram simply took the idea of influencing and expanded it. However, social media-specific influencers further feed into the fantasy, allure and escapism of Instagram and TikTok.

“We all wanna have this image of beauty and perfection and all of these things, and we can all project on one person,” Moree says. “It shields us from having to look in the mirror and be like, ‘But that doesn’t actually make you happy.’ No matter what, people are gonna find some way to glorify other people.”

In this fantasy we portray online, Moree explains everything in your life, even people, can become

an accessory with which you can promote self-image, even people.

“It’s so ingrained in your brains that you forget it sometimes,” Moree says.

Although this may seem obsessive at face value, it’s the reality that many young people, navigating and developing their sense of self both online and away from of their screens, are reckoning with. These are questions that we all ask ourselves, whether explicitly or implicitly: how do I want to be perceived? How do I want to express who I am? How can I express myself with my profile?

With the unnecessary pressure we self-impose on social media apps, there seems to be a counterinsurgency aiming to combat this — the push to #makeinstagramcasualagain. Now, there is a rise in the photo dump, unfiltered photos and chaotic candid shots that signal one is being authentic, which can be equally insidious according to Moree. This signaling is, in and of itself, another twisted way to perform online.

Yet, in the era of TikTok and BeReal, people seem to be drifting further from Instagram’s facade. Moree finds the shift to casual platforms and less filtered content to be expected, as aesthetics in social media naturally shift every few years.

Instagram is not going anywhere for the time being. Instead of jumping ship and deleting the app, many are defying the arbitrary, self-imposed rules in the world of social media — and just having fun with it.

“It feels a little bit more fun for me,” Moree says. “I feel like Instagram is more fun when you can post pictures of other things,” Moree says. I feel like Instagram should be fun. “Who wants to be on social media and be stressed out when you’re stressed throughout your day?”

DRESSING

FOR THE OCCASION

THE ROLE OF COSTUME DESIGN IN CREATING THE FANTASY

BY LAUREN COHN DESIGN BY RUTH ELLEN BERRY

t’s hard to think about fantasy without thinking about grand ballgowns or shiny suits of armor. Costume design in fantasy media immerses viewers in the world, taking us from reality to medieval times or faraway fairy tales.

But what seems magical is actually very methodological. The whimsical gowns and outlandish suits in our favorite movies and television shows come from turning standard costume design practices into something new and out of this world.

Costume designers must consider what fits into the world they are trying to create. From the kings and princesses in medieval epics to the alien races from beyond this galaxy, fantasy costuming is all about storytelling.

Ben Kress is pursuing his MFA in Stage Design at Northwestern. What got him really interested in the process of design was the revelation that the outfits in “Star Wars” don’t have any buttons. Kress discovered that the intention was to separate the viewer from seeing things that felt too close to Earth.

“I think that’s kind of brilliant, to make a little decision like that just with the thought: how can we make this look otherworldly to the audience?” Kress says.

While worlds like “Star Wars” have set the precedent for fantastical experiences, Kress says that classic portrayals of fantasy create a sense of otherworldliness through purposeful othering — which means their biases can stand the test of time along with their garments.

For example, the costuming of alien civilizations in “Star Wars” reinforces negative stereotypes, directly linking alien cultures to non-white cultures. The Tuskens are one of the first alien species we meet in the franchise, and George Lucas has said that the Bedouin

people of North Africa and the Middle East heavily inspired their design. As these Tusken raiders are only depicted as “fearsome, desert savages,” per the “Star Wars” website, the fantasy of the world shatters into xenophobic and negative representations.

So, Kress says a challenge of costume design is to maintain the fantasy while breaking away from harmful conventions and approaching a project in a completely new way. He cites Ruth Carter, costume designer for “Black Panther,” as a designer who is breaking the mold.

Like other fantasy movies (yes, superhero movies are part of the genre), “Black Panther” takes inspiration from the past. The challenge, though, was to convey a rich African culture untouched by colonization, one that looked toward the future but was rooted in historical African prints and wear. So, Carter took inspiration from all over the continent to create a beautiful fantasy world of the future.

Like Carter, most designers look for ways to subvert classic interpretations of fantastical trends. Sometimes, that means spinning an old tale into something new. Communications second-year Alena Haney has worked on three student productions as a costume designer at Northwestern. Most recently, she worked on outfitting the fantasy world of “Into the Woods.” As she designs outfits for a fantasy embedded with archetypal characters from fairy tales, Haney says that she considers how many ways she can imagine a character when brainstorming costumes.

“I think something that helps me is finding what is the largest, most literal way of doing this and depicting this, and what is the most abstract, minimalistic, basic version of that,” she says.

Maybe a costume for the Wolf from Little Red Riding Hood leans into its animal nature, or maybe it instead focuses on the charming and manipulative personality of the character. For Haney’s production, she says her team opted for a combination of the two: a fur-trimmed suit with a wolf mask.

“There’s a lot of defined ways that people dress in the world, and so you’ll have a character who really leans into that and is like, ‘I’m gonna dress exactly how whatever society or the world of the play is in.’ Or people who wanna push more against that,” Haney says.

Beyond the techniques and mechanics of costume design, Haney says she enjoys seeing her visions come alive on the stage. “It helps [the actors] tell the story, and I think that’s really the fun part,” she says.

Kress agrees that it’s the element of performance that adds to the joy of costume

“It is a really process to do that alongside an actor who’s doing the same thing different way with a different vocabulary,” he says.

and

Swords Sapphics

By Alea Wilkins Designed by Quynh-Nhi Tran

My heart hammered as Elizabeth Swann approached the balcony, fanning herself from the heat and the corset confining her ribcage. She breathed heavily, eyes fluttering shut, before fainting over the edge and plunging into the vibrant blue Caribbean waters below. It looked peaceful — angelic, even — as she drifted weightlessly in the ocean, a gold medallion hanging around her neck. As Jack Sparrow rescued her, he ripped off several layers of her tight shapewear until she was only in white undergarments, her wet hair sticking to her collarbones. I sat on the carpet of my childhood bedroom, eyes wide, and I thought: I could save her way better than he could.

My first queer thoughts were while watching this scene as a child, and the rest of the “Pirates of the Caribbean” franchise only heightened my sense of bi panic as I admired their swashbuckling wit and — despite excessive rum drinking and no apparent dental hygiene — diamond white smiles. Since then, I’ve settled into my bisexual identity in real, non-pirate life, which has led to my slow integration into queer spaces online. The most notable example: bi TikTok. I soon realized through watching TikToks of other women’s bisexual awakenings that the pirate thing was not just a oneoff quirk of mine. Lots of collegeaged bi women, it seems, are drawn to powerful female fantasy characters like moths to a pink-purple-blue flame.

Much of the appeal of fantasy characters is the power they wield, and young bi women online love women with weapons. Swords, lightsabers and superpowers are surefire ways to have a sapphic down bad. “There’s nothing like a lady in chainmail, right?” says Sarah Welford, a bisexual fourth-year. “The Princess Bride” was the spark of her initial bi panic, and she recalls her excitement when the titular “princess” and “bride” surprisingly became a hero. While Buttercup did play the part of a damsel in distress, she was funny, intelligent and independent, challenging traditional tropes of a passive woman.

Lily Ramras, a first-year who identifies with both bisexuality and pansexuality, also adores female fantasy characters who refuse to play the helpless victim. This was first exemplified to her by the confident and whip-smart Meg from Disney’s “Hercules."

“It was the first time I saw a woman stand up to a man in a Disney show,” she says, referring to

Meg’s many assertions throughout the movie that she doesn’t need a man to save her. Meg’s tough attitude and quick wit go against the stereotypes of a gentle, unassuming woman, making her a proud character on her own rather than solely the leading man’s love interest.

This strong sense of self is also what inspired Audrey Michael, a bisexual first-year, to develop feelings for female characters who possessed, as she put it, “the strength in owning exactly who you are.”

Michael mentioned Elphaba, the protagonist of the musical “Wicked,” characters from the “Lord of the Rings” franchise, and Emma Watson (both IRL and in “Harry Potter”) as examples of women who are strong and self-assured, rejecting typical views of femininity by being unabashedly themselves.

Even in these fantastical realms with mythical creatures and otherworldly magic, it’s apparent that queer women are drawn to fantasy as a genre because it lets them be the most true to themselves. “[Fantasy] can be this form of escapism from the realities of a homophobic family or society at large, like a safe haven,” says Maryarita Kobotis, a bisexual fourth-year. This escapism is crucial for understanding one’s sexuality. Even as queerness becomes more widely accepted in the mainstream consciousness, a space entirely removed from the expectations of loved ones, peers or the heteronormative male gaze offers the essential freedom for a woman to consider the mere possibility that she could like other women.

That’s the crux of it all: in worlds where the posibilities are endless, the opportunity to be who you want to be and love who you love without judgment is the ultimate fantasy. “In a fantasy world, people can fly, so why are we worrying about whether or not people are straight or adhering to certain gender norms or sexuality norms?” Welford says. For women who love women, fantasy as a genre isn’t appealing because it’s extraordinary; rather, it takes away the social scrutiny of queerness and makes their sexuality ordinary.

The sapphic obsession for women with swords is thus both self-indulgent and empowering. Using fantasy as a way to explore sexuality takes the best of our imaginations and lets them run free. We can pretend to be superheroes and fight dragons and conquer the seven seas. We can be the princess and we can save them. And we can have our own happily ever afters too.

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Out For Blood

Finding our Place Among the Stars:

Modern Sci-fi and the Fantasy of Afrofuturism

By Audrey Clarendon Designed by Zara Hasnani

It’s 2013. I’m 9 years old, and the young adult dystopian novel craze is taking over my midwestern town. “The Hunger Games” quickly becomes my favorite series, and I’m anticipating the “Catching Fire” adaptation more than summer camp or even soccer season. The budding teen sci-fi, dystopia genre fascinates me because the imagined worlds seem so fantastical. ”The Hunger Games” follows a teenage archer and a mousy baker who team up to overthrow a syndicate of campy fascists. What morbidly bored flyover-state preteen wouldn’t count down to its release date?

But by ninth grade, those stories started to lose their luster. I realized that the culprit of my disinterest was deeper than my usual tendency to quickly tire of hyperfixations or my growing reliance on technology. Young adult dystopian novels are often about a marginalized person or group’s fight for liberation. When I was in third grade, Katniss

Everdeen and her carefully copied — or more generously, inspired — counterparts (“Divergent,” I’m looking directly at you) were my most salient representations of rebellion. I soon realized that the stories white consumers often consider to be dystopian are not actually fictional; they are structured around the struggles that Black people and other oppressed groups have had to endure for centuries.

These authors echo Civil Rights-era rhetoric slamming classism and injustice while completely whitewashing its clientele, rendering Black people hypothetically extinct. The essence of Black struggle — neatly translated onto futuristic fair-skinned, heterosexual, and abled bodies — is titillating enough to hold the attention of an entire nation, yet our ongoing, real-life fights are not. On a quest for answers after the decline of the teen dystopia

era and following my own personal pivot towards racial empowerment, I stumbled upon Afrofuturism.

In Afrofuturism, Black people are allowed to reimagine the past, acknowledge the real oppression we experience, and predict an ideal Black future, all through the lens of science fiction, ancient African mysticism and technoculture.

Frances Bodomo, director of the film "Afronauts,'' can rationalize her narrative (the Zambian Space Academy seeks to beat America to the moon) in the fact that Black people have not been offered a home on Earth and must "take root among the stars," as Afrofuturist literary pioneer Octavia E. Butler puts it. With Afrofuturism, Grace Jones, otherworldly everywoman of ‘80s disco, combated corrosive 20th-century misogynoir and stereotypes through fashion and gender experimentation. Afrofuturism allows artists to channel the Black experience into sci-fi and the imaginative avant-garde, which can be especially cathartic when that experience is typically one of pain and suffering.

In other words, it’s fantasy grounded by frank and refreshing realism: a different niche of the escapism, creativity and resilience Black people in the Americas have relied on for centuries. Self proclaimed “tech/ fashion freak” and Afrofuturist TikToker Eros Orion has traced Afrofuturist sentiments

all the way back to the mid-18th century. She explains connections between it and Elizabeth Keckley, an enslaved woman turned expert seamstress for first lady Mary Todd Lincoln. Her tenacity and design skills earned both her and her son’s freedom from slavery. In Orion’s words, Keckley used her “artistry as an act of rebellion — as an act of liberation, not only for herself but for her people.” This is the promise of Afrofuturism: it encourages resilience in rationalizing the impossible and provides a necessary escape in the fantastical. Its simultaneous focus on the elevation of Black people and of Black craft has anchored Black thought, conjecture and vision on the forefront of social change. Our collective past, wartorn and brutalized by unimaginable woes, has so firmly placed Black America and the entire diaspora in the ideal future.

Afrofuturism was the savior I needed in the throes of insecurity and discomfort. Learning about “black weirdos” like Parliament Funkadelic, Thundercat, Grace Jones and Outkast allowed me to find a place among like minds that did not seek to alter my story but to enhance it. Afrofuturist stories of grandeur and fantasy allow us to transcend into a surrealistic utopia of Black solace, success and self-expression.

Through Afrofuturism Black people find home. We belong. We are celebrated.

"Afrofuturism encourages resilience in rationalizing the impossible and provides a necessary escape in the fantastical."