The Reverie Issue

the reverie issue

issue no. 44

06 Faces & Spaces

Designer Lily Barnes sees nature through the microscope in her senior thesis collection

10 Head In the Clouds

The dreamy side of reverie. A fresco of heavenly beauty.

20 2020 Vision

How visual cues, dreams and manifestations have helped students reach their personal goals

36 Phantasmagoria

30 Warm Fuzzies

A shifting series of phantasms, illusions, or deceptive appearances, as in a dream or as created by the imagination

Why soft clothing puts us at ease

22 Saw You in a Dream

“if we love each (shyly) other, what clouds do or Silently Flowers resembles beauty less than our breathing” - e. e. cummings (1931)

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EDITORS-IN-CHIEF Emily Burns + Radhika Rahlan PUBLISHER Daniella Ueki CREATIVE DIRECTOR Maxwell Han PRINT MANAGING EDITOR Giovana Gelhoren DESIGN EDITOR Grace Lougheed PHOTOSHOOT DIRECTOR Miranda Andrade PHOTOGRAPHY EDITOR Sarah Loper DIGITAL MANAGING EDITOR Sierra Turner MULTIMEDIA EDITOR Jay Towns SOCIAL MEDIA EDITOR Sarah Filby DEVELOPMENT DIRECTOR Tiffany Xu

PRINT MANAGING EDITOR Nia Harris PHOTOSHOOT DIRECTOR Annika de Vogel PHOTOGRAPHY EDITOR Sara Gronich DIGITAL MANAGING EDITOR Jude Cramer ASSOCIATE EDITOR Ashley Capoot MULTIMEDIA EDITOR Maddy Daum CORPORATE DIRECTOR Michelle Godzanker MEMBERSHIP DIRECTOR Susan Tran

CORPORATE TEAM Olivia Corderi, Sophie DeBenedetti, Ananya Gupta, Hope Jin, Olivia Lee, Peyton Nibblett, Eric Smits, Daniella Ueki, Ishika Vanwari + Hannah Yang DESIGN TEAM Ruth Berry, Jessica Chen, Izzy Chun, Isabelle Hauf-Pisoni, Michelle Hong, Agnes Lee, Bailey Richards, Margeaux Rocco, Sarah Rosenblum, Sadd Sadd, Quynh-Nhi Tran, Ashley Xu + Meher Yeda EDITORIAL TEAM Tanitoluwa Adedibu, Rebecca Aizin, Nikolas Chambers, Amber Cohon, Olivia Evans, Vitoria Faria, Nicolas Gonzalez, Eli Gordon, Molly Van Gorp, Vaibhavi Hemasundar, Isabelle Kenagy, Michelle Kim, Lucia Schorr, Joely Simon, Christian Thorsberg, Carly Witteman + Gia Yetikyel MULTIMEDIA TEAM Lucia Bosacoma, Sharlene Burgos, Maria Caamano, Sophie D’Amato, Libby Markham, Catie Moore, Yola Mzizi, Linda Shi + Maria Valencia PHOTOGRAPHY TEAM Trin Collins, Grace Deng, Maryam Ikuforiji, Wyatt Morris, Jesse Noss + Kendall Wieland SOCIAL MEDIA TEAM Ashley Chin, Sara Frank, McKenna Frey, Kimberly Cruz Mendez, Isabella Moran, Emi Silverstein + Olivia Stone STYLING TEAM Sandra Alrifai, Anna Biasco, Sebin Bok, Daisy Brockhouse, Sophia Crum, Amina Elmasry, Julia Greenberg, Sean Malaisrie, Katharina Nachtigall, Nicolas Petry-Mitchel, Shea Randall, Melissa Santoyo, Lisa Vicini, Ava White + Mikayla Williams • November 2020 03

"The weirdest dream I've ever had was more like a nightmare to be honest. The previous night I had just watched The Princess and the Frog. I ended up dreaming about being trapped in the movie. The New Orleans part was great but I have a serious fear of frogs!"

"I was having class in a cornfield and the teacher was laughing at a scarecrow, who was sentient and a student of the class.

The teacher asked, 'Why is there an ugly scarecrow in my class?' and the scarecrow was visibly sad while she laughed at him.

I woke up feeling really sorry for that scarecrow."

"The weirdest dream I have ever had was when I dreamt about my roommate Ally being a 3-foot tall bird. She was surrounded by a fleet of male birds but I had to squawk to fight them off because none of them were worthy. Somehow I knew the bird was Ally but to be honest it's truly unclear as to whether or not the bird was actually her or just some bird. I was going off of vibes I guess."

"One of my best friends and I have a joke about our brains being like eggs. In one of my dreams, we were reading through a ton of flashcards delivered to us via conveyor belt.

They had all of these big existential questions on one side, and a completely nonsense answer on the other. We got to one card that was like, 'What is the human body made of?' and it was a ton of pictures of eggs. I laughed myself awake and immediately texted her."

contributors

thoughts

F R O M

T H E

E D I TO R S

This issue has been a long time coming for STITCH. Back in February, the members of STITCH voted on making Reverie our issue for Spring 2020, even finishing up a photoshoot that very month. As we mentioned in The At-Home Issue however, in light of everything happening in the spring, this issue seemed a task impossible to complete.

This fall, however, STITCH gathered once more, circumstances and situations constantly changing, ready this time to share our recontextualized dreams, hopes, and worldviews through the medium of the magazine we love. As EICs, we are beyond excited to finally share with you The Reverie Issue.

When you Google the word reverie, the first definition that comes up is “a state of being pleasantly lost in one’s thoughts; a daydream.” While we absolutely love this definition (it’s featured on our Instagram and the back cover), the STITCH staff displays that reverie can also be so much more. Staff Writer Erica Davis explores the dreamlike state of places that seem to only exist while you’re in them and Staff Writer Olivia Evans contemplates whether or not we’re really able to manifest our dreams. Staff Writer Vaibhavi Hemasundar analyzes what it is about soft clothing that puts us at ease while the Styling Team gives us cloud makeup that Ariana Grande would be jealous of.

Decided upon almost a year ago, The Reverie Issue had become a dream we weren’t certain we would be able to achieve. The members of STITCH continue to amaze us with the determination and willingness they brought to the table to revamp Reverie and bring to you the beyond incredible issue that you’re holding in your hands right now. The Reverie Issue has been an opportunity for STITCH to delve deeper into the whimsical, bizarre, and consistently changing nature of dreams and we hope that, as you flip through the pages, you are able to do the same.

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Designer Lily Barnes Sees Nature through the Microscope in her Senior Thesis Collection

by Joely Simons designed by Ashley Xu

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LILY BARNES

FACES+SPACES:

S

itting on a curved metal bench, nestled beworld right now is filled with anxiety and tween towering plants in her Aunt’s garden, hypersensitivity. Social media and our fashion design student Lily Barnes preps her technology add distraction and stress. I schedule for the week. She puts down her .3 black ink just got an iPad and I’m so fascinated by all the tools Micron pen to check her phone, finding herself lost in it has for my work, but we think [technology] so cool, new recipes to cook that week. Potatoes are her current like ‘oo this new gadget’ but it’s just a distraction.” mood. She finds a recipe for roast garlic buttered parJust as Barnes gets lost in her thoughts, she found mesan potatoes. Then her mind flips back to her stress herself getting lost in the flora and fauna surrounding on her search for her senior thesis. She asks herself, her journaling sessions. From bugs to butterflies, what’s important to me? What experience has hibiscus and lavender, her experience in the garden changed me? “I care about potatoes …” she prompted the basis of her collection. While thinks to herself, “but those aren’t meanshe does not have an overarching name ingful.” for her work, Barnes plans to focus on the Barnes looks down and picks up unappreciated beauty of nature. a crumbled leaf. As she smooths When Barnes scrutinizes the minute it out, running it through her long aspects of nature she feels transported into fingers, she gets lost in its almost an unimaginable setting, she said. Unlike most perfect symmetry yet slight flucpeople, she said, Barnes fixates on the life and tuations. She stares at how the leaf inner workings behind the colors, scents and is broken up by its many lines, its shapes of plants. consistency in some places and spoHer work will not be floral and romantic. Her radic forms in others. She flips it over vision does not evoke flower’s colors and the to see its veins, and suddenly she shapes of plants. It’s not supposed to be remembers, this leaf is alive. She obvious but rather a visual representation of enters a trance as the leaf mesthe way Barnes’ mind organizes information merizes her. and interacts with nature. The collection A senior at the Rhode Island looks deeper, to the microscopic level, School of Design, Barnes will questioning the abstraction of the be working this academic year cells and patterns that give life to on her senior year thesis, a organisms. Barnes gets lost in collection of six to seven outfits nature’s beauty, glimpsing signs she designs under a common of magic in the way so many theme and manifesto. Over the small particles build up to summer, her professor tasked create something functional her with journaling everyday so and beautiful that does not she could discover her thesis rely on human control. collection topic. Vulnerability “What I like so much comes to mind when Barnes about these small reflects upon the process. elements, like a vein in Visual culture is inherently a random leaf, is that if you look up The beginning of Barnes’ drapings. Photo Credit Lily Barnes judgmental, not to mention close and think about it closely, it’s crazy that fashion is rooted in so many subconscious beliefs how mathematical and organized it is,” she says. “As on beauty, on good and bad. Barnes struggled as she I zoom in, I see it as if I’m entering this other world. reflected on how to manifest her persona and world Our society is so jaded to earth at this point that these outlook in the collection, yet realized it, or rather she, earthly things almost become alien to us.” would be put on display for others to criticize.

Much of Barnes’ previous work also had a theme of Working each summer day in her Aunt’s garden in repetition and detail merging to create a larger image. the suburbs of Philadelphia, Barnes confronted her Thinking mathematically behind her aesthetics always diagnosed attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. served as a way to organize her thoughts. It became “My brain can’t shut up,” she said. “And the entire therapeutic, she said.

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Her roommate Lily Durbin, also a senior studying apparel design, describes Barnes’ past work and collection idea as “labor intensive and detail-oriented.”

“She has always gravitated towards the accumulation and organization of parts into a whole,” Durbin said. “In her past work, whether her garments were adorned by the collection of beach stones into specific pockets, or pants created from tiny squares sewn together […] examining how details can be gathered into a larger form through a repetitive, soothing motion.”

Her thesis is more than just the outfits though. She must design a story and aesthetic experience with makeup, hair, and the setting for her photographs and video of the collection. Since her concept lies in abstraction and she struggles to find out she will share the collection in a non literal way.

“You have to trust yourself but it's hard,” she says. “You need to work through the critiques, which just keep coming.”

Kylin Conant, a fellow senior in the apparel design program, admires how Barnes’s approach sees beyond the naked eye.

“Lily’s work reflects the articulation of nature in a way that’s not romantic or soft, but confident and assertive,” Conant said. “She mimics the fine, microscopic qualities that every living plant or thing has.”

Two of Barnes’ current “doodles,” as she calls them, guide her creative journey for her apparel designs. She begins to exhibit her interpretation of nature, using an ultraviolet induced visible fluorescence technique in these works for color inspiration..

While the work revolves around nature, her overarching theme is not about an environmentalist approach to fashion.

However, that’s not to say sustainability is not a focus for her as a fashion design student. She notes how fashion can achieve sustainability beyond biodegradable fabrics.

Barnes hopes to use the extra fabric sitting around that would otherwise be burned or thrown out to use in her collection.

“I need to be careful with my scraps and excess as well as get stuff that’s just laying around from other places,” she said. “It’s crazy how much fabric is wasted.”

While it sounds tacky and cheesy, she said, returning to nature keeps her grounded. It blows her mine how little people think or care about the details of nature, the life and science that lives behind what we take for granted.

Currently, Barnes’ is preparing for her muslin critique, when her instructors evaluate the construction of Barnes’ fabric ideas and patterns. This semester she will focus on three out of her six or so pieces. Her journey exploring the secret garden of her mind and nature has a long way to go.

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"What I like so much about these small elements,

like a vein in a random leaf, is that...as I zoom in, I see it as if I’m entering this other world. Our society is so jaded to earth at this point that these earthly things almost become alien to us."

Concept Doodling by Lily Barnes.

Concept Doodling by Lily Barnes.

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Photographed by: Maryam Ikuforiji Directed by: Emily Burns Styled by: Miranda Andrade, Sebin Bok, Maxwell Han, Sean Malaisrie, Katharina Nachtigall, Annika de Vogel, Ava White Modeled by: Joanna Kim, Lola Knight, Lauren Washington, Catherine Xu Designed by: Izzy Chun

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The dreamy side of reverie.

A fresco of heavenly beauty.

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Embracing

by Erica Davis designed by Quynh-Nhi Tran When I was younger, I used to love rest stops. They were the interlude between the Duck Tales DVDs I watched with my brother in the backseat of our well-loved Mazda minivan and an opportunity to beg my parents for a bag of popcorn from Starbucks. I remember rest stops near my grandparents’ house in Maine with tanks full of live lobsters and big grassy fields at stops in Pennsylvania, perfect for playing tag.

At a rest stop on our annual drive to my grandparents’ house when I was around 10, my mom insisted that I take out my violin and play a song for the travelers eating at the picnic tables around us. I agreed, grudgingly. I can’t help but laugh when I look at my expression in the pictures my mom took of the moment, the indignancy I was going for not quite convincing against my budding features.

At many dinner parties when my mom inevitably decides to pass the pictures around the table again, I remember how I felt as I played (screeched, as I’m sure the other travelers would say). I was annoyed, yes, but I wasn’t embarrassed. To me, rest stops weren’t real; everyone and everything I saw seemed to happen in a life wholly separate from mine.

With time, I have learned why I felt this way. Rest stops are what anthropologists refer to as a liminal space, “liminal” coming from the latin root “limen,” meaning threshold. Rest stops exist only to cross over from what was to what will be. In a way, they don’t exist at all.

So many of my memories from childhood were made at a rest stop and yet, they are no more memories than they are scenes I watch in my head and can’t quite connect to. The images drip with the tangibility of truth, but the feeling of place is lost to me.

Some of that, of course, can be attributed to time passing. Some, also, to the lax abandon of memory of a child who has no need for nostalgia.

But I think it's also typical of the human condition to quickly forget the in-between moments –– to remember the climbing tree in my Grandma’s yard in Maine but none of the forests on the drive to get there.

How then, can I recon with living in the in-between now?

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When my grandpa was sick in March, my mom and I drove the 13 hours from Pittsburgh to Maine to help him and my grandma. For the first time on our drive to their house, there were no rest stops open. We were prepared for this –– we packed turkey sandwiches and toilet paper for the trip. Still, I couldn’t help but feel that something was missing.

Around the 8th hour, as my legs began to stiffen and I was tired of looking out the window, I realized what it was; we had lost a space of transition––a place to rest and prepare for the remainder of our trip.

It’s easy to neglect the importance of these little moments set aside to decompress. During the quarter, the 10-minute walk from Norris to Tech seems inconsequential –– in the winter, even painful. Maybe eating a home-cooked lunch tops yet another slice of pizza from Allison stuffed down your throat while going over a quizlet one last time before class. But without this time in between, the minutes that we have to be “on” stretch out uninterrupted.

And that, I think, is the secret to surviving in the time of covid.

Coronavirus isn’t a miraculous gift or a free vacation, but the absolute apathy of our politicians has made it clear that we have to adapt to living this way for a while. I cringe at the saying, “life is about the journey, not the destination” (I imagine it pinned on an oversaturated pinterest board), but when there is no clear destination, the journey is all we have.

Together, we have the rare opportunity to reflect on how our society continues in the future and how we can change for the better. Our mistake would be to step forward too quickly without acknowledging the benefits of this time to reassess.

Personally, I’m trying to find my way back to the love I had for the freedom of liminal spaces. Thriving might be too far of a reach, but I’m stretching myself to exist presently and embrace the time in waiting. I know that I have the capacity to survive and even grow in such a transitory space, if only I allow myself to.

And I have rest stops to thank for that.

"

I’m not sleeping between rows of gas pumps or changing in stalls with no toilet paper. I don’t eat in front of a line snaking out of a Sbarro's or go to the trucker’s lounge to relax. But without the greasy pizza and the awkward eye contact in the bathroom mirror, I am stuck in this same place of transition: not home, but not sure of how long until I reach my destination.

The pandemic has made a perpetual rest stop of our country.

Inside my house I sit at the threshold of normality, with work and school giving me a taste of life past and future. For six months I've been stuck in a season of waiting with no known destination. Liminality was never meant to be a semi-permanent state of being, yet here I am, caught in the oxymoron of permanent transition.

Existing where I never have before and learning to fit into a dimensionless space is uncomfortable. But discomfort is an invitation for growth, and it’s a signal to find some sort of solace in the ruins we’re left with.

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2020 VISION By: Olivia Evans Design By: Bailey Richards

In October of 2015, as a sophomore in high school, I wrote “I will attend Northwestern University and study journalism” in an entry in my journal. I was beginning to think about my future, and I saw Northwestern as a dream goal. I had no idea the impact of writing a goal on paper would have on my life. Five years later, I am at Northwestern and studying journalism — and while I do not owe it solely to a journal entry that I wrote in high school, I have a strong belief in the Law of Attraction.

This idea was populated in the early 2000s through theory taught by Rhonda Byrne in her selfhelp book “The Secret.” Byrne defines the Law of Attraction as “like attracts like; what you think about, you bring about.” The Law of Attraction works best when verbalized or tangibly visualized through manifestation or vision boards.

A vision board is essentially a visual bucket list, but it can also be a collection of images or words that inspire you or simply make you happy. While it was only recently that I learned about this 20

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psychological phenomenon, it is something I have been practicing for many years.

However, this traditional idea of The Law of Attraction is often criticized by mental health professionals and the general public because its core value comes off as a superficial fix for mental illnesses like depression.

Leading psychologists agree that when approached with an ‘allor-nothing’ mentality that “The Secret” preaches, vision boards can be harmful and the Law of

Attraction does not work. In an interview with the Washington Post, psychologist and McGill University professor Marilyn Fitzpatrick, explained the problem with the way some people approach this version of self-help.

“We don’t know for certain why we see these negative results in the research. But one idea is that when we compare ourselves to others, we stop focusing on who we are and what we can do, and focus on external, material goals,” Fitzpatrick said.

This explanation describes what happens when we create a vision board without acting upon it or incorporating it into our mindsets.

The Law of Attraction does not mean that if we think of a material possession for long enough it will magically appear. The idea is to place the thought of attaining a ‘possession’ (or job, lifestyle, etc.) into our daily lives to influence our decision making and routines.

The idea of a vision board is to get the positivity out of the depths of your brain and put it somewhere concrete. A vision board can be a more traditional ‘collage,’ but it can also be a picture on the wall or a journal, or anything that makes you feel positive energy.

Since the beginning of the pandemic, I have been turning to my personal outlet for The Law of Attraction quite frequently.

While journaling is not a stereotypical route to executing this concept, I have been writing ‘vision board’ entries in my journal since my freshman year of high school.

Sometimes I will write about a day in the future, such as envisioning myself running the Chicago Marathon. More recently, I will write an ‘idealized day,’ which basically consists of getting everything done on my to-do list or waking up in a post-pandemic world and hugging someone without worrying about spreading a disease.

Because my version of a vision board has helped me find more inspiration and happiness throughout this otherwise depressing moment of life, I asked a few of my friends to tell me something about their rooms that inspires them or makes them happy.

A Photo Collage: Brooke Skiles In addition to her hope that it gives her visitors a little taste of her personality, Brooke Skiles also uses her wallspace as a source of inspiration. She prides

herself on finding good music and has an incredible sense of humor– so she included pictures of favorite musical artists and movies. Brooke also vocally adores Kylie Jenner and keeps photos of her to remind herself of the lifestyle she wants.

Pieces of Home: Kyndall Hadley & Atim Bedell “It’s basically everything I like and what and who I aspire to be,” she said.

Kyndall Hadley and Atim Bedell, Weinberg juniors, both like to keep something that reminds them of home on their walls.

While Atim obviously likes to show her personality off through her room decorations, her Maryland flag is her favorite thing in her room.

“It’s very unique looking and serves as a good accent piece but it also reminds me of my home and family– like a little piece with me,” she said.

Similarly, Kyndall keeps a photo copy of a painting from her grandmother’s house.

“It reminds me of home and my family and being young,” Kyndall said.

A Tapestry & Mindful Reminders: Missy Aminu

The Law of Attraction is an incredibly useful tool in maintaining a good mindset throughout your life, but it is particularly helpful in 2020.

While this is traditionally executed through vision boards, your mindset can be built into journaling, the way you decorate your space, the shows you watch or the music you listen to. It is so easy to become overwhelmed with negative thinking when the state of the world is so dreary, however making conscious decisions in what you are consuming, producing and surrounding yourself with with greatly improve your headspace.

After turning to meditation this summer, Missy purchased this tapestry for her dorm room to remind herself to be mindful during times of stress throughout the quarter.

“It reminds me of what my energy should be and also reminds me to think of my chakras and meditate,” she said.

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saw you in a

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a dream dream

dream

dream

dream

“if we love each (shyly) other, what clouds do or Silently Flowers resembles beauty less than our breathing” - e. e. cummings (1931)

Models: Ilsa Hoffman, Hannah Marques Photographer: Wyatt Morris Styling: Miranda Andre, Anna Biasco, Daisy Brockhouse, Amina Elmasry Photoshoot Directors: Sara Gronich, Annika de Vogel Design: Margeaux Rocco • November 2020 23

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Why soft clothing puts us at ease

by Vaibhavi Hemasundar // designed by Agnes Lee

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hen Covid-19 hit, I traded out anything I owned that was remotely scratchy and replaced them with leggings, babysoft tees, and hoodies so soft that I felt like I was sitting in a cloud. I’ve always gravitated towards soft clothing since realizing that it helps with my anxiety. However, with all the complications that were thrown into the world recently, I found that even my already-soft clothes were not enough. If a piece of clothing didn’t make me feel like being swaddled in a baby blanket, I shoved it to the back of my closet for better days. This means that I felt like a walking advertisement for Aerie. This is not sponsored, but I swear their T-shirts and sweats are made of a new element other clothing companies have yet to discover.

After hearing from family members that soft clothing was helping them as well, I wondered if there was a psychological basis to this.

According to Wendi Gardner, a social psychologist and professor at Northwestern University, there are a number of theories on this topic. However, the one that Gardner gravitates toward is that our tactile sense mimics contact with others.

“Think of any wildlife documentary you’ve ever seen with chimpanzees or bonobos or gorillas," Gardner said. "They spend all their time stroking and grooming one another,.”

Gardner suspects that when mammals are forced to deviate from this default proximity to one another, they turn to soft objects in order to fulfill that psychological need to be close to the pack.

In an article for the Journal of Consumer Research, Dan King and Chris Janiszewski define this phenomenon as affect-gating, where a mammal's emotional state changes their selection of incoming sensory inputs. When in a positive state, they experience heightened sensitivity to visual stimulation.

When in a negative state, they respond more to the tactile cues of their environment.

According to King and Janiszewski, the negative affective state results from physical or socialpsychological pain. One way to ease this distress is through “affiliative touch.” Mammals have special slowresponding touch receptors on the torso and any body parts covered in hair. These receptors only respond to stroking or gentle touch, indicating to the brain that an individual is being soothed by a parent or another member of the clan. These receptors are unrelated to fast-conducting sensory pathways, such as those on the palms of the hands or pads of the fingertips, that can be used to incite “discriminatory touch.”

King and Janiszewski even cite a study showing that distressed rats experience relief from synthetic carpeting on the floor that bears no resemblance to a caregiver. This is particularly interesting because it suggests that mammals can derive comfort solely from tactile sensation with no visual representation of a comfort object.

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For Medill second-year Kacee Haslett, the tendency to surround herself with soft objects has always been intuitive due to a combination of sensitivity and anxiety.

“When I was really little and my mom was breastfeeding me, she would have to take off all my clothes and turn off all the lights because I would get really distracted from sensory overload,” Haslett said.

Weinberg fourth-year Grace Gay also pays special attention to the texture of her clothing. When Gay was a second-year, she went through a bad depressive episode and realized that her main comforts were related to tactile sensations. Afterward she started wearing softer clothing on a day-to-day basis.

“I wear a mixture of fabrics to have different things touching my skin so I can focus on any one of those [if I get anxious],” Gay said.

I think humans recognize that there’s some inherent benefit in soft clothing.

That’s why we prefer to wear soft pajamas when going to bed or to lounge in sweatpants or cotton leggings when we’re stressed.

Especially now that classes are virtual for a large portion of the Northwestern population, many students have been defaulting to loungewear.

Haslett says that when packing to return to Evanston this fall, she only brought sweatshirts, sweatpants and t-shirts.

“I knew I wasn’t going to be doing any of the things I used to and that I was just going to be

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sitting in my room doing my classes," Haslett said.

"My roommates put on jeans at the beginning of the day, but I’m like ‘Hm, I’m just going to put on a different pair of pajamas.’”

Larisa Olsen, owner of Chantilly Lace Lingerie in Wilmette, understands the importance of having comfortable pieces of clothing. Her company motto is that “the right lingerie & sleepwear change not only your look, but your outlook.”

Olsen’s background is in set and costume design, so she acknowledges that the look of a piece is important to how confident someone feels in it. However, she states that oftentimes, lingerie sellers discount how integral it is to use comfortable fabrics.

“People think lingerie shops [are] sexy and vampy," Olsen said. "But that’s not always the case.

The majority of the stuff we sell in this neck of the woods is just about being comfortable."

Olsen sticks to a few trustworthy brands that Georgette Shabaz, the former owner of the shop, introduced her to. Usually, these are European brands, with a few American-made exceptions. For example, she loves the New York-based brand P-Jamas, which specializes in simple pajamas made out of Peruvian butter-knit cotton.

Another brand that Olsen swears by is the Italian brand Cosabella, which makes Pima cotton pajamas that are half cotton and half modal. The addition of the modal to the cotton helps it not pill without sacrificing any of the comfort.

Olsen believes that a good night’s sleep is essential, and choosing the right sleepwear is the first step. If an individual chooses sleepwear that keeps them too hot or cold, they run the risk of waking up in the middle of the night.

Haslett echoes this sentiment. She can’t wear long pants, especially sweatpants, because she turns a lot in her sleep and gets tangled up in them. Because of this, she keeps a collection of 10 extra-soft tees in her closet just to sleep in.

In addition to the daily comfort that soft clothing can provide us, there is also evidence that it can help individuals heal from trauma — important to note, considering humanity’s current state of collective trauma.

Annie Novotny is an art therapist at the Center for Self-Actualization and a professor in the fashion department at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. In the summer of 2019, she held a story quilting group for female veterans who had experienced sexual assault while in the military. She states that there were a few aspects of the process that helped them heal: the repetitive motions of sewing, the ability to use the quilt as a “container” for past experiences, and the tactility of the fabric.

“Tactility is this thing that we’re not thinking about on the forefront, but it’s very grounding to be touching

something soft,” Novotny said.

Now that it can be difficult to physically comfort our loved ones, we might even consider gifting clothing or soft objects as a temporary alternative.

Olsen started the Chantilly Lace Comfort Project in March, through which customers can pay $50 to sponsor a gift of comfortable sleepwear for a nurse in the Chicago metroplex. Chantilly Lace customers have collectively sponsored 780 gifts for nurses on the frontlines.

“During Covid, there’s an extra focus on comforting ourselves and each other,” Olsen said. “High-quality cotton pajamas are the best gift you can give someone because people don’t buy $100 or $150 pajamas for themselves. But they love getting them as a gift because it’s the ultimate comfort.”

Whether you have always had an affinity for soft clothing or only recently realized that it helps buffer the unpleasant emotions of living in 2020, there’s power in giving in to the allure of pajamas. It’s an act of self-love. Especially now that we likely can’t be around all of our loved ones, throw on a soft hoodie! The psychological effect is similar to receiving a hug. I’m a hugger, so I know it’s not the same thing. However for now and for the near future, it looks like we’re going to have to self-soothe. At least soft clothing gives us that option.

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BunnyMan’s Special Power Is Kindness Dontay Lockett’s RedMen brand is a realm free from injustice

by Christian Thorsberg artwork and drawings by Don Orphan designed by Grace Lougheed

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t’s February and shit is different, obviously, but it’s still fucking cold downtown. Riptides of ice-rough wind careen against the Open Studio’s wall-to-wall windows, the eighth floor of Columbia College insulated only with the frenzied warmth an art studio emits. It’s Don, sitting at a wooden table, his stack of Priority Mail stickers drawn on with colorful characters and signed ‘REDMEN,’ soon to be slapped onto bus stop signs and parking garage mirrors, or mailed to paying customers, or given away for free in his Instagram raffles. It’s not the ideal day to wade through Chicago sub-zero, but when you grind every day there’s no such thing as ideal days, just opportunities to advance your art, and grow your brand, and make your message something all the more special.

It’s his Jordan Year, a fresh 23 years old, Dontay Lockett aka Don Orphan, and like Michael, he’s always on the chase for something great. When I first met Don, a few months before this, he was rocking a Flyboy sweater and raving about Hebru Brantley’s Nevermore Park with that type of artist’s admiration – when seeing another’s art inspires you to make your own. And in June, a few months after our chat, he graduated from Columbia with a degree in Illustration, though it's hardly Don’s only domain: he works in music, photography, graphic novels, painting, embroidery, clay, and any other material mashup that inspires notes and mockups in his thick paper sketchbook. It’s like an infinity of art, this book, all his past, present, and future plans lain bare on the page.

Don’s holding this sketchbook like it’s a baby. We’re sitting in as quiet a nook as you can find in a bustling art school, squished between abstract orange furniture and vending machines. He’s just gotten out of class, but Don’s hardly got that post-lecture haze in his eyes. Turning to page one, he starts talking with thoughtful reverence about RedMen, his fashion brand that’s more than just

fashion, that challenges racist stereotypes, that balances the hyper-real with the fantastic, that confronts toxic masculinity. That started accidentally: making a mood board for a comic book, he only had black and red markers. He began drawing characters in these two colors, starting with lips and hair.

“I know there’s a joke that Black people have big lips, and I wanted to flip that into a good thing,” Don says. “So I emphasized Black features even more. Big lips, big nose, bushy hair, wild hair. Dreads sticking out everywhere. I don’t know, for some reason I wanted to call it RedMen.” And RedMen it was, the characters evolving to take pride in and ownership of the features often belittled in racist Black caricatures. No longer were they different, “but simply a part of the majority,” writes Don on his website. But Don was still reconciling his message on masculinity, the ‘Men’ of RedMen, when he met his now-girlfriend, Vaishnavi Paudel, a talented make-up artist and creative herself. Says Don, she helped him wrap his head around a balance of masculinity and femininity, and reconsider traditional gender roles.

When Don became a ‘face’ for Vaishnavi –– a term he’s learned, he tells me, for someone who models for a makeup artist –– he started seeing nail polish and makeup as expressive, another element of fashion. And these perspective changes, and new scenarios, helped Don flush out RedMen. “I’m a creator. I should get in tune with my masculine and feminine sides, and be a little more feminine, and be open to certain things that I guess some males wouldn’t be,” says Don. “And that wrapped around into, ‘let’s make it a brand.’”

So Don launched RedMen fashion in August 2019, his first drop complete with t-shirts, hats, vests, and totes. And staying true to its mood board and comic book inception, everything is about character: graphic novel-type boxes and scenes prominently adorn his clothing, popping with red and black color schemes.

Don’s first graphics were of Black men screaming wordlessly into

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men screaming wordlessly into open air, their message subject to the interpretation of the wearer. It’s a pillar of the brand’s identity, to know that you’re wearing RedMen for a purpose, to own it and know it. It’s not about clout, or doing something to fit in, or worst of all, passive engagement.

“RedMen is a world where women wield boxing gloves and black people pose in iconic photos,” writes Don. “But most importantly, all of the characters in RedMen are able to struggle with their own insecurities and struggles aside from the consequences of systemic oppression.”

Before Columbia, Don spent close to five years homeless with his mom, sister, and nephew. They couch-surfed and lived in shelters and hotels. At a certain point, it wasn’t about needing money, says Don, it was about needing a new life. When times got really tough, it was art that helped him through. His recurring cast of RedMen characters each carry backstories and pieces of Don’s own life, and as he flips through his sketchbook, showing me their evolution and potential future plans, he talks about them like he would a friend. Don points to a heart, personified with eyes and big lips, that makes an appearance in the background of most of his graphics.

“The Heart is a character,” he says.

“It’s self-love. I would draw Hearts coming out of me. Sometimes they’d be broken.” But if any one character reflects Don the most, it’s Bunnyman. With “Gummo”-esque pink rabbit ears, he’s his own brand and identity –– so much so that Don likes to keep him separate from the RedMen universe.

When there is crossover, it’s a BunnyMan x RedMen collab.

Don turns a big chunk of pages in his sketchbook, revealing his most recent work: the outline of a BunnyMan comic book. Spoilers here are withheld, but BunnyMan’s special power is kindness –– “he just finds any and every way to help someone,” Don says. In the first physical creation of the BunnyMan hat, which dropped this summer, Don added a detail that doesn’t appear in BunnyMan drawings: an embroidered smile that sits patched between the ears.

Don hopes to make enough money off his upcoming drops to start a charity. He wants to help the

shelters where he lived a good part of his life in Chicago, and fund that creative itch for kids who are in situations similar to his. He gestures to his sketchbook, “This is my community,” he says, again and again throughout our conversation, referring to RedMen, their messages of Black excellence and resilience, and his lived communities of family, friends, and neighbors.

“This guy, he’s supposed to be a clown,” says Don, angling a new sketch toward me after a pause in our conversation. “When I made this character, I thought about how my community is not really taken seriously.

They’re seen as a joke.”

Don’s created new graphics and artwork in recent months, reflective of both a summer of protests and generations of racism. Titles including “Cry4Help,” “MY STRUGGLE,” “ME NO STEREOTYPE,” and “DONATE” combine new characters and messages that seem political but shouldn’t be. As Don says, his art is about progress and inclusion. That masculine and feminine balance. That all Black lives more than matter, that they’re loved and needed.

“I can only treat my message that comes across,” he says. “It’s for everybody willing to put all the negatives to the side, and be as one.”

Don’s got two big drops on the horizon: The Heart Project, which celebrates the character motif’s range of emotion and cerebral connection; and an introspective mixtape, Era of a Homebody. This dual release represents Don’s personal and artistic growth so far.

“This brand is not for you to just wear but also for you to become one with yourself,” he writes in the RedMen (@redmenco) Instagram bio. Don is becoming one with himself.

Back in the Open Studio, we’re looking out at a freezing Chicago. Taped to one of the windows is an outline of the Sears Tower, and if you stand in a certain spot, from a certain distance, the skyscraper fits perfectly within the lines. Don sticks a Priority Mail sticker on an adjacent wall, something he’s been meaning to do in the place where he spends hours working nearly every day.

It’s the Heart that’s drawn on the sticker, smiling with a quiet sort of kindness.

Don joins me and takes in the view, that same kind smile growing across his face.

His sketchbook is closed and in his bag now, and I’ve got a BunnyMan sticker of my own, a gift from the BunnyMan himself.

And when at last we emerge in the winter air, Don heads for home, carrying the world of RedMen on his back, and kindness in his heart.

“REDMEN isn’t just a clothing brand - it’s an alternate realm free from the burdens of racism, sexism, and other injustices.”

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Photographed by: Sarah Loper and Jesse Noss Directed by: Miranda Andrade and Annika de Vogel Styled by: Sophia Crum, Mikayla Williams, Shea Randall, and Nico Petry-Mitchel Modeled by: Ace Ellsweig, Ben Kaiser, Emmy Khawsam-ang, and Michelle Lindsey Designed by: Meher Yeda • November 2020 39

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written by Gia Y etikyel designed

by S

You all had just stumbled out of the tattoo parlor in Lincoln Park and decided to head back to Z’s apartment before going to the pa. No one was in a rush, but you had been anxious for the better half of the day. You remembered you had to text Nik’s mom some pictures you forgot to send her weeks ago. You had reminded yourself that anxiety works like that, that anxiety is the invisible danger your brain convinces you is there, but actually isn’t. It isn’t, you always repeat to yourself. The feeling of dry, thick cotton balls stuffed down your throat isn’t real. But your heart beating as erratic asout theof pitter-pattering of raindrops, is onlyaren’t a yourself mortality and anxiety ou all had just stumbled reminder that you can’t convince yourself mortality and the same. the tattoo parlor in Lincoln Park anxiety are one and the same.

The bitter January wind and decided to head back to The bitter wind attempted to split the skin attempted to split the exposed Z’s apartment before going to theJanuary exposed skin of your face as you all walked down the of your face as you all walked down party. No one was in a rush, but you block to the apartment.

Your coat pockets were filled the block to the apartment. Your had been anxious for the better with tissues from a brutal cold you hadfilled just gotten coat pockets were with tissues half of the day. You remembered over, so you let your hands fall at your side.

It hurt from a brutal cold you had just to you had to text Nik’s mom some move them because of how quickly frigid they gotten over, so you let your became. hands pictures you forgot to send her

add Sad

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i

was quiet. He didn’t get any fall at your side.

It hurttattoos to moveafter weeks ago. You had Jack reminded becausewould of howprobably quickly frigid yourself that anxietydeciding works like that, that histhem girlfriend they became. he told her he’d that anxiety is the invisible danger be upset with him because Jack was quiet. He didn’t get your brain convinces you is there, get his first one with her. Kinda bogus, you any tattoos after deciding that his but actually isn’t. It isn’t, you always thought.

You and Jack dated a while girlfriend would for probably be upset repeat to yourself. The feeling of freshman year of college, and even though with him because he told her he’d dry, thick cotton balls stuffed down your throat isn’t real.itBut your heart get his first one with her.itKinda didn’t work like everyone thought would, beating as erratic as the pitterbogus, you thought. You and Jack pattering of raindrops, is only a dated for a while freshman year of reminder that you can’t convince college, and even though it didn’t

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work like everyone thought it would, you still see him as your best friend.

You like his current girlfriend, she’s just a little much sometimes. Then again, so were you when you two were dating.

He’s got that effect on women. Your mom used to call him an adonis. You don’t really see it anymore.

Your mouth felt a little dry as your friends passed around a bowl at Z’s. You didn’t smoke as much as you usually did. You’ve been trying to cut back. Last year you used to smoke a lot with Nik. You used to do a lot with Nik. Talk, sing, shop, fuck, cry, fight, kiss, repeat. He was a good time, a complicated time.

You thought you loved him because he loved you. Love had tasted a little more sweet in your mouth before him. Less like metal.

His brother told you the news mid-December. He said his heart just stopped pumping. His sister found him.

You hadn’t talked since the third day of school.

You blink. You breathe. Jack and Z are discussing Matt Muse’s EP and if they think they get the bigger picture of it, their voices are rising. You blink again, realizing there was some type of buildup behind your eyes. You blink

again, and you’re at the party.

Your dirty white sneakers are soaked from trudging through the snow, as are the ankle part of your pants. They make you take off your shoes at the door of the apartment. There are at least 30 pairs trailing toward the stairs. Like they’re all trying to run away.

You pour yourself some ginger-ale.

You felt queasy after thinking about Nik. Jack didn’t want to be there, and you knew. But something about his bad attitude pissed you off. You didn’t want to be here either. And it’s not like his friend is dead.

Your friends never really got to know Nik. Nik was a separate piece of your life. A piece that only belonged to you.

Not them.

You didn’t have your glasses on, so everything felt like a guess, especially in the dark room. But you saw him first.

The long nose. Oval face, framed with a brunette beard. Soft almond eyes, dark, dark, dark. An infectious smile, even more contagious laugh, like a disease you are told is a blessing. Like you should be grateful you feel like shit.

He caught you staring and gave you a curious look. He was holding a bottle of Blue Moon, his favorite, while

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he gesticulated a story to whoever he was talking at. He stood by the yellow lamp light toward the corner, his features exaggerated like a monster in a storybook, or like the pictures in your phone. You still hadn’t texted his mom.

You couldn’t help yourself. It couldn’t be him. You saw the casket go down. But you had to know. You wanted a name.

“Nik! My name is Nik.” You stared, unblinking.

“Y’know, short for Nikolai.” You still couldn’t say anything.

He started to laugh. “Jesus, Rach, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Why’re you calling me Rach? Only Nik called me Rach.” Raquel is your middle name. Nik called you Rachel to annoy you. It worked, until it didn’t.

He looked at you funny. “Listen, I know things got weird between us, but you don’t gotta act like that.

How about we go back to your place and catch up. I’ve missed you.”

You wanted to call Jack for help. He’d know what to do. But instead, you nodded. You smiled. You missed

him too. You didn’t get to say goodbye, but now you get to say hello.

You texted Jack that you left the party and were safe. He didn’t respond. But you knew he saw.

You blinked and you were at your place. A little farther than Z’s, but Nik had put his arm around you and you felt warm. The type of warmth only Nik knew how to give. You offered him something to drink, but he declined. Instead, he made himself comfortable on your bed, just as he always would whenever he came over. He picked up a stuffed penguin and played with the loose hem of its flipper.

You inched closer to him, almost afraid if you moved too quickly, he’d get away somehow. But there was carelessness attached to him. He wasn’t aware of the space he took up, how he stretched his legs out onto the bed, how his breathing seemed to suck out the rest of the air in the room.

“You don’t have to look so afraid of me, y’know. I’mI’m better now,” he paused, almost sheepishly, and let out a breath. He was frustrated. He couldn’t translate his internal monologue into something you could believe in.

Nik was a religion and once you started to pray you were told God wasn’t real. God was never real. God is god is god is whoever you give the power to be god.

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But here He lay in front of you, on your bed, hand tracing your bare arm. Here He lay next to you, whispering secrets in your ear He thought you forgot, and you wish you had forgotten, but never did. Here He is, dragging his fingers along the lines of your palms, telling you about your lifeline (“kind of long, but who is to say?”) and your love line (“jagged and disconnected”).

Your lips were dry, your throat so clogged it almost throbbed in pain. You still hadn’t texted Nik’s mom. But she wouldn’t need the pictures if he were in front of her, right? You wanted to ask how or why he was here. You couldn’t find the courage on the walk back, and now that you could feel him again, you didn’t care about the answer.

He was tangible. You had more than just the pictures and the memory of his mother hugging you when you told her you knew him well.

You felt his breath against your neck. He had moved so close, so softly, like a ghost in search of a home and finally finding one. And you reciprocated. Every piece of your body begged to leave. But you stayed, telling yourself that this was a gift. You wanted to know what he felt like after so long. You took his hand and gently kissed his palm, your breath fanning his lifeline. Barely visible.

The new grass supporting his gravestone flashed in your head. The call, He passed away yesterday. The smell of his cologne. Your hands faltered for a moment. You realized he didn’t smell like anything. He tasted metallic, almost cold.

There was a desperation here. You just couldn’t tell whether it came from you or him.

You laughed when he kissed the part of your neck that was ticklish. The two of you recalled memories, only the good ones, and listened to one another’s breathing. You were terrified, but you felt so, incredibly lucky. He was here.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. Or waking up when Nik left. You felt the empty space next to you and your gut lurched. Nik used to always kiss goodbye.

Your mouth no longer felt dry as you got up to stretch. You felt energized. Genuinely awake.

You called his number, hoping he’d answer.

Maybe you could make plans with him for tonight.

A woman picked up. Her name was Ella, her voice was soft and young, almost child-like. She said she didn’t know a Nik, that she had just gotten this number. She apologized. So did you.

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