That's What She Said Issue #17

THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID

ISSUE #17

THE TWSS TEAM’S ALTER EGO

Becky Armstrong - Senior Editor

Anjum Nahar - Online Editor

“Aunty Anjie (Astrologer)“

“ Art Hoe “

Maria Paradinas - Arts Editor

“ Regina Phalange “

Delara Youssefian - Senior Editor

“ Princess of Persia “

Maegan Farrow - Arts Editor 1

“ Miss Optimist “

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R . I . P . TO THE AWKWARD STAGE 4

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DOMINIKA RYBOVA

P A T R I A R C H Y O

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CLARA HEFFERNAN

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BECKY ARMSTRONG

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Yo, New logo? New magazine style? Who is she?!

As you can see, we’ve had a bit of a style makeover over here at TWSS. No, we’re not going through a bad breakup/existential meltdown/identity crisis, we’re just out here trying to keep it funky and fresh. To go with the new logo (creds to Charlotte Mansfield), we’ve gone with a new aesthetic for Issue #17 and have been prioritising poetry and artwork, to celebrate our badass Bristol creatives who are doing the most to take down the patriarchy one rhyme/ doodle at a time. We chose the theme of Masks as a starting point for our contributors to reflect on ideas of identity, fragility, and performance, which has generated some really interesting and varied content. Considering the state of our world, ‘Masks’ is particularly current to the context we’re living in: Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, fake news, media bias etc. have made every one of us question or doubt ourselves at some point. The TWSS gals have realised that self-reflection is one of the only ways humans will survive past 2030, so we encourage you to un-veil, settle down and read through this magazine donning your true, ugly (and perfect), authentic self.

Stay organic, Delara and Becky x

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by

dominika

rybova

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R . I . P. to the Awkward Stage

artwork by rosa stevens

There are a lot of memories I cherish from my early teenage years. While I’ve made a huge effort to block quite a lot of it out from my mind, I look back on my past awkward, frizzy, self-conscious self with a strange sense of nostalgia and love. Making plans with friends to go to the town centre on a Saturday, with a clean set of the classic leggings-and-denimshorts combo set aside for the occasion, and the money I’d saved over the last few weeks to buy myself a fresh pot of Maybelline’s Dream Matte Mousse, shade ‘Orange’. I couldn’t talk to anyone new without punctuating every other word with a nervous laugh, and no matter how rigorously I applied my tea tree oil stick, I just couldn’t get rid the pimples across my cheeks. If you had asked 12-yearold me whether I was happy with myself, the answer would unquestionably be ‘*nervous laugh* hell no’. But 20-year-old me couldn’t be happier that I went through that stage of Primark knotted crop-tops and too much black eyeliner, because it taught me a lot.

That’s why I feel an overwhelming surge of sadness when I see young kids today wearing genuinely nice outfits, perfect makeup and hair, and confidence exploding through the roof; they’re bypassing what generations have had to endure in order to survive to their late teens and twenties, and there is so much wrong with that.

Gone are the days of silver and blue eyeshadow and concealer lips, now we have fully-contoured and cut-creased teenagers strutting the streets and filling our social media feeds.

I have friends with younger sisters, around 10 or 11, who call them up with questions on which tanning oil to get from Superdrug because they want to kick-start their bronzing before they go on holiday. Me? I’m pretty sure at that age I didn’t even know fake tan existed, and I still got excited to use that blue-tinted sun cream because the smell would always remind me of summer and fun memories, even though it gave me a white cast that made my skin about 10 shades lighter than it really was.

The long acrylic nails and 5-step skincare routines are just a metaphor for the dramatic shift in teenage attitudes – they become concerned with appearance much earlier than ever before, they care more about what is socially acceptable from primary school age, and they pick up

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typically ‘adult’ activities such as replying to emails or going to the bank to deposit some extra cash, then complain about how ‘stressed’ and ‘tired’ they are from their difficult pseudo-adult lives.

Where have the Nintendo games gone?

Where have the board games gone? Why are they sporting glowy, flawless skin with perfect eyeliner instead of spot-ridden, orange faces with eyeliner thicker than a bowl of oatmeal?

The biggest reasons why? YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and the rest. If we as adults are prone to feeling inadequate, and standing in front of the mirror tugging on bits of stomach fat that don’t seem to appear on any of the bodies on Instagram, how could the same feeling not be felt by the age group that are perhaps most vulnerable to body consciousness and insecurity? Being constantly surrounded by pictures that have obviously taken a trip through Photoshop and Facetune is damaging, so of course younger teenagers feel more pressure nowadays to look the same. I thank the Lord every day that social media influencers didn’t exist when we were growing up; as if comparing ourselves to the other girls in our schools or the ones on TV and in movies wasn’t enough, now kids are blessed with the online presence of actually (or seemingly) physically ‘perfect’ human beings whose job it is to teach them how to blend their bronzer in the right places and how to correctly apply false lashes.

This vast source of self-consciousness-inducing media is so easily accessible to anyone and everyone, ready to guide them through a tutorial on how to successfully avoid the awkward stage, and kick puberty into the sunset. But that stage is necessary in a person’s life. Everyone needs to endure a few years of spots and unfortunate clothing choices, because the relief when you finally reach the end of the dark tunnel is incomparable to anything else. The rewards reaped from surviving that stage are infinite – (finally) some confidence in yourself and your appearance, gaining the ability to talk to someone without sweat building on your upper lip, the discovery of makeup and skincare products that actually work for your skin

and look good, and also learning how to use them properly so you don’t look like you’re going through an unfortunate and accidental emo phase.

These things might be superficial, but the confidence it can give to a person really can’t be underestimated. A thick skin and a great deal of strength are the rewards when you finally come to the end of years of insecurity and self-doubt.

People have been saying for decades that ‘kids are growing up too fast’, it’s not exactly a new phenomenon. There are a million different factors having an impact on this, and maybe in the context we are living in today, there’s no room for kids to be kids.

Instead of going to the park or wandering aimlessly around the shops, kids today are ditching school to protest against climate change and are witnessing terrorism and war both at home and internationally. It’s amazing that the younger generations are so politicised and aware of their world, but at the same time, these things are huge burdens to lay on the shoulders of children. We might have been aware of the all the world’s crap when we were growing up, but politics never seemed so personal then as it does now – it was just another ‘adult issue’. Kids are making speeches to international organisations, they’re organising demonstrations, they’re carrying out campaigns and activism online; they’re fighting everything that is wrong with our world, and doing that clearly requires a lot of growing up, fast. Maybe their changing physical appearances just reflect how kids are being forced to mentally grow up quicker now. Even so, I’ll still always give an encouraging and sympathetic smile to the uncomfortable-looking girl sat on the bus with an aura of frizz around her head and mismatched clothing: girl, I get you, and I promise, one day you’ll look back on yourself with admiration and pride.

by delara youssefian

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1 Inside outside at night in bed she looks so good guess that’s why you took so many mostly on film mostly with friends more pictures mean more seeing more seeing her — I don’t even make a blurred outtake

ar twork by anna dowson

by anjum nahar

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ar twork by anna dowson 2 The mask goes on ever y morning and comes off for evening curtain calls.

Makeup wipes and toothbr ushes don’t give much of an ovation.

The mirror critic has the audacity to look me square in the eye.

C ostume changes would be easier if no one was watching. by anjum nahar

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COLLAGES O F

AMERICA

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They challenge the notion that a year abroad must your

life pride

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by rivka cocker

The concept of masks is significant to me as by assimilating to American culture, I often feel like I am masking my own culture and suppressing my identity. In other situations, my Britishness acts as a more visible mask, othering me from this “sweet land of liberty�.

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masks and vulnerability You’re sitting in your friend’s living room with your feet placed firmly side-by-side on their plush fur carpet, not daring to lean too far into the velvety zebra-print fabric (is that real?).

It’s very glamorous. They’re in front of the island counter pouring you tea from what is probably a Ming-Dynasty China teapot and asking if you want soy milk, almond milk, coconut milk, rice milk, coconut-rice milk or hemp milk. Cow’s milk is not mentioned. They’re very glamorous.

Or maybe you’ve been in the opposite situation.

You’re sitting in the backyard smoking area of a pub in the bad part of London with a rubbish cigarette in your hand. You had to get one of your friends to roll it for you because you don’t know how. There are random household objects everywhere and it’s cold. Your friends don’t feel it because they’ve grown up sitting in gross smoking areas. You’re not quite sure what to contribute when someone protests that they would have gotten three A*s if they had a private tutor growing up. You had a private tutor. You did not get three A*s.

by savannah coombe

No matter which experience you relate to more, you have most likely been in a similar situation. One in which you find yourself going inexplicably red every time you say something. Nothing you contribute seems quite adequate.

It’s called imposter syndrome. We’ve all felt it at some point in our lives.

You find yourself someplace you can’t help but feel you don’t belong in.

There are plenty of coping strategies to help you deal with this feeling, but I am not a licensed therapist and I am also not WikiHow. Instead I want to discuss how not to deal with it.

We all put on metaphorical masks in our day-to-day life. Disguises and guises that help us fit in a bit better or feel a little more secure. This is perfectly natural. When you come to university you will (and should) find yourself surrounded by people from a variety of backgrounds and inevitably a variety of classes.

You have a friend in your Psychology 101 class who complains that they’re not sure how they’re going to make their rent that month. Your flatmate complains that he is not looking forward to the Maldives this year because the usual house is occupied.

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It’s hard to not want to relate in both these situations but it is so easy to miss the mark and end up compromising your own character.

This is the trouble with trying to put on a mask that you think is more suitable to the conversation at hand. You’re empathising when really you should be sympathising (I had to look up which was which).

And really the worst part of what you’re doing is that you’re judging.

You’ve made the decision that you will not be adequate to your friend unless you mimic their exact experience.

It is hard not to keep on our masks. At work you wear your busy mask, at university you wear stressed and tired and around your friends you wear fun. I challenge you to instead try vulnerability. In this period of mental health crises, it is becoming increasingly important that we let each other in.

You do not always need to be brave and dependable. No one is. True bravery comes from vulnerability. Let those who matter to you see who you truly are. Let them see beyond the mask to your true hardships and struggles.

The good and the bad. To see the real you.

Soppy, I know.

artwork by maegan farrow

I think you will find your friends are much more open to your true self than you might realise and that when you try to be exactly the same as them they realise (and don’t like it).

When I was sixteen, I would wake up each day and put on a mask. I was hurting inside and I didn’t really know how to tell anyone. I would get to school and I would be happy, I wouldn’t talk about my feelings. My friends’ problems were very different to my own and for some reason that made me feel as if mine weren’t worthy of worry.

Looking back, I now realise I held onto my “happy” mask so tightly that I failed to let people see beyond it. I’d decided who I was going to be, and I was holding myself to it with no exceptions. I missed out on forming some truly great relationships because I refused to let people in.

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d e s i p a t r i a r c h y desi patriarchy tells me to take some goddamn responsibility. they exclaim, ‘honey, you’re asking for it when you scent your neck with ittar’ ‘you’re making him horny wearing that low-cut blouse’. ‘you’re calling for attention as you lace your eyelids with kajal & stud your ears with jhumpkas’ ‘you’re making ‘boys excited’ when you let hair tendrils f low down your back’

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don’t you get it, they say exasperated its you. you, you, you. i tell desi patriarchy that i dress according to seasons, waxing schedules, job descriptions i do this shit for myself.

‘Really? do you even exist outside the male gaze? ’ by neha maqsood

artwork by anna dowson

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by maegan farrow

a line from a poem I wrote : “What peers through the stitching, are ghosts.”

I wanted the painting to look as though the woman’s face was being removed - like a mask from the inside, and so there are eyes

peering

out

from

beneath her skin, and fingers reaching

out.

was

one

had

written

The

of

poem

many about

I two

of my sisters who both passed away in 2016, six months apart.

My interpretation of ‘masks’ is the masking of grief, when it is appropriate and to to

when feel

it

those

to I

do am

and

so,

allowed show

around

it me.

G H O S T S

This painting was inspired by

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. m a r i n e by marwa fichera

I am standing by the seashore at sunrise where I go to seek refuge, w h e r e I g o t o f i n d my s e l f again and again; a place where the air is pure a n d t h e s e a i s n e i g h b o u r, w h e r e my t h o u g h t s u n r a v e l i n t o f l u i d s t r i n g s a n d my b o d y i s s o l i d a n d h e a v y t o t h e g r o u n d . the crushing waves sing to me a n d I l e t my a r m s h a n g l o o s e while I sway from side to side, guided by the winds. my e y e s a r e b a r e l y c l o s e d , the lids twitch frantically and the dark lashes m o v e l i k e t i ny d a n c i n g a r m s .

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t h e w a t e r r e a c h e s my f e e t just to slightly moisten them and retrieves back i n t h e s a m e r hy t h m the feeling of melancholy arrives to me at night and leaves by the morning, in the same pattern I w i n a l l o f my b a t t l e s o n l y t o s t a r t f i g h t i n g a g a i n s o o n a f t e r.

I am standing by the seashore at sunrise and I travelled through mountains and deserts, I escaped avalanches and sandstorms to be here one more time. p e a c e f u l l y, as the horizon gives birth light, I catch a glimpse o f my r e f l e c t i o n in the waters. blissful tears are not as salty as the sea. artwork by nia jones

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m m a a s s k k s s by clara heffernan

“Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it’s all a male fantasy: that you’re strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.”

Margaret Atwood To live as a woman, some would argue, is a mask of its own. To constantly melt and remould oneself into the ‘right’ woman is the norm: smart enough in a job interview, but not so smart that you intimidate others; sexy enough on a date, but not so sexy you give ‘the wrong idea’; confident enough to be noticed, but modest enough to avoid criticism. The list goes on. Some masks are more ill-fitting than others, but they are disguises nonetheless. Thank goodness that ‘self-love’ is trending media-wide, throwing all these expectations out the window and encouraging a loud ’n’ proud declaration of pride and unashamed confidence! But is it ever really going to be that simple?

Artists such as Ariana Grande, Lizzo and Dua Lipa have popularised music with catchy lyrics championing self-care, independence and saying ‘Thank You, Next’ to any boys that may stand in your way.

artwork by maegan farrow

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But are these confident messages simply another facet of performative femininity? To be tough and independent is arguably another mask we wear to preserve a facade of strength, despite being more vulnerable beneath the surface.

Feminist artists such as Beyoncé are sex symbols, but are they performing for male approval, and is it wrong if they are? Or perhaps this is misguided as what they actually represent is sexual liberation? I am reminded of Emily Ratajkowski defining her instagram feed as a ‘sexy feminist magazine’, yet the beautifully airbrushed shots of her modelling her own swimsuit line seem to reinforce all the impossible expectations women are told to live up to. A key part of selling her bikinis seemed to be encouraging women to try to look more like her by wearing what she wears.

On the other hand, is it better that a woman is profiting from female insecurity rather than a man? Is it wrong to shame Emily for posting pictures of herself that supposedly make her feel confident?

There seems to be no solution that dismantles the complex network of patriarchal values while also granting women the autonomy they are entitled to. Atwood claims, ‘even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy’. If we take this to be true, what is left for women? The prognosis is dismal; misogyny has become so internalised that it is impossible to rid our own bodies of it; our masks cannot be removed.

As the consistent use of question marks throughout this article might imply, a complex issue such as internalised misogyny and the performativity attached to this has no simple answer. But one solution may be an uglier look at the reality of womanhood. Artists such as Polly Nor explore the demons within and surrounding women, or Bode Burnout, who depicts the reality of menstruation, body hair and mental health. To truly disregard all facades, being unapologetically unattractive seems to be a good place to start. ‘Self-care’ is not always the beautifully packaged, Urban-Outfitters-homeware vision that we are led to believe. Sometimes it is just getting out of bed, maybe having a shower, and taking a trip to Tesco’s for groceries. That might not be sexy or cute, but it is real and it is worthy of praise.

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from Iron Bridge Hill by becky armstrong Morality, Mortal, Mortar, bricks of bones and sinew cement hold us up, To cement is what I want, to fix and hold steady, to preserve you in resin: a butterfly in clear plastic; take a thousand film rolls, and snatch up every part of you, whilst jungled arteries seep and change.

My handwriting scrawls on the backs, of bus tickets and receipts, You read a lot of American books, don’t you?

Said in a café, on your birthday, in summertime.

Meant as an insult, slight and quick and smiling, and makes me love you more because I’ll breath your thoughts and their true working.

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artwork by becky armstrong Later we walk down the too-steep-for-you street, to your clapped-out car, and your clapped-out lungs, make you stop and point at everything.

Too tired to walk further, are thoughts you don’t want me to read.

So to stop me, you stop and read everything, ‘Saigon Nails’, let’s go there sometime, Take down the number, write it here, but I read the panic in your wheezing, clogged up and dumped like old washing, and you want open doors for wind to blow through, and the freshness of Mexico City’s black and white rooms, whipped up from the south’s warmer palms, makes you a dreamer watching pixels flicker and dance.

Old age is a veiled childhood.

It’s savouring out of last-ness, not newness.

It’s grasping each fresh and fleeting glance, each crease of warmth and words stowed up, like bean tins for a cyclone.

It’s freshness twin with fading, that makes my insides somersault, seeing you through the wrong ends of binoculars, time thinning and slips whilst I f ix you here.

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AUNTY ANJIE'S SEXY AND SUNNY SUMMER HOROSCOPES She's back, she's stressed about uni work, and she's ready to flex her alliteration skills. Once again, Bristol-based astrologer Anjum Nahar brings you 100% accurate horoscopes for Summer 2k19. She's so good you'll want to sue her! (but please don't because TWSS has no money lol).

Aries (Mar 21 – Apr 19) We all love a career driven Aries boss that's already applied for multiple internships or secured a summer work placement. As an Aries you're guaranteed to have a productive and rewarding summer but you need to remember to keep a healthy balance between work and fun.

Taurus (Apr 20 – May 20) You're known to be strong-willed and independent but unfortunately you might not always be in the driving seat this summer Taurus. Be prepared to have to listen to parents, friends or employers who want to dictate to you the best way to spend your time.

Gemini (May 21 – Jun 20) The adventurous-spirited Gemini who's been cooped up at uni all term long is in dire need of some travelling. Luckily for you an exciting trip is in the stars so go grab your passport, sunglasses and SPF! Cancer (Jun 21 – Jul 22) Ok so I hate predicting romance for people because I'm a bitter, lonely person, but I'm also a slave to the stars and the stars are saying that you're going to be all loved up this summer. Puke. So boring.

Leo (Jul 23 – Aug 22) Summer 2k19 is going to be a noisy one for the confident Leo. It'll be all about music, festivals, parties and late nights with friends. So basically no different to any other season, right?

Virgo (Aug 23 – Sep 22) Stay off the social media over the coming months darling Virgo as you’ll end up comparing your summer to everyone else’s, even though you know it’s such an illogical thing to do. Social media is so #fake - we don’t need the stars to tell us that.

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Libra (Sep 23 – Oct 22) Libras are known for being naturally caring people and for putting others first. However, you might see some role-reversal this summer and will be need a bit of a hand when you get yourself into a sticky situation.

Scorpio (Oct 23 – Nov 21) Mysterious Scorpio, take off that mask Wink, wink (had to get the mask theme in somewhere). Be open minded about hanging out with unexpected people this summer Scorpio and you’ll be sure to make some great new friends.

Sagittarius (Nov 22 – Dec 21) The party-loving Sagittarius has three months of festival, fun and glitter coming up. Let off some steam before it all gets grey again in September but also remember to practice some basic self-care like showering (sorry had to be said, we all know what you dirty lot are like).

Capricorn (Dec 21 – Jan 22) Capricorn's are known for their pessimism so it might be that you're not looking forward to those long summer months. No worries dear Capricorn, summer 2k19 is going to be your best one yet; stressfree but still busy and exciting.

Aquarius (Jan 20 – Feb 18) Aquarius's shouldn't leave their rooms this summer. Lol, joking (but only partly as I don't like your kind). In all seriousness you might have a hard time reaching some of your busier friends over the next few months. No worries though — you'll definitely enjoy your mindful and relaxing alone time.

Pisces (Feb 19 – Mar 20) If you think that you're going to use this summer as a break from academia Pisces then you're wrong! You're likely to have an intellectually stimulating and curious few months so get your nose back into those books. If you're up for a feminist challenge, why not try the works of fellow Pisces Judith Butler?

artwork by danni pollock

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CREATED BY MAEGAN FARROW

COVER BY MARIA PARADINAS

ISSUE #17