CONTRAST
LET FR THE EDI TER OM TOR
cherished, lovely, darling, reader,
tell me, what does it mean to begin something anew?
as we spent the dusk of fall immersing ourselves in where contrast has been, the winter beckoned us to explore where contrast could go. we submerged ourselves in watery depths, arose in quiet contemplation, and then burst out in vibrant declaration of who we are! a college fashion magazine… I mean, what does it mean to be a student fashion magazine in times as trying as these? what relevance does a kiddie pool, liberty spikes, or the confusing space of the Vassar chapel (which, to our photographers lament, has horrible lighting), have to us, 13-something-odd college students trying to make something we’ve never made before? maybe it’s about
making space for the kinds of art we’ll never see in a #realfashionmagazine, or maybe it’s just about having fun and doing something we can only do when we all put our creativity together. all i can impart on you, dear reader, is that these glossy pages carry the weight of 250 pounds of water and more. we pushed ourselves to the very limit of what we could accomplish, and I hope you can cherish that as deeply as I have.
to a future where we never forget the past, enjoy this, the 34th issue of Contrast Magazine.
eternal love and undying devotion,
Carissa Kolcun
SIRENS OF
From Everyday Around the World a Woman is Pulled Into Blue by Krista Franklin
Nico Silverman-Lloyd shot by Jade Hsin
BLUE LOOP MY OWN
Photographed by Jade Hsin
Photographed by Jade Hsin
INDIVIDUAL AND NATURAL METAMORPHOSIS IN COUTURE
: IRIS VAN HERPEN
ANNA LITTLE
A Maison of Nature and Individuality
Blurring boundaries between art, nature, and science, Iris van Herpen transforms haute couture dresses into statements of raw beauty. Her work has been frequently described as “ethereal and otherworldly” with its bold geometric patterns and rhythmic movements around the body, but her inspiration is firmly rooted in our natural world.¹ Born in the Netherlands in 1984, Van Herpen draws her fashion inspiration from organic elements such as water’s fluidity, plant life, biomimicry, and symbiosis in
nature, which all play an important role in ecosystems. The brand itself is a testament to personal genesis: in 2007, Van Herpen formed her own fashion maison with her stunning designs and later joined the Paris Fédération de la Haute Couture in 2010. Through her innovative designs, Herpen illustrates individuality and femininity and has collaboratively paired with celebrities including Beyoncé, Scarlett Johansson, Lady Gaga, Natalie Portman, Rihanna, and many other international clientele.
Though Van Herpen draws inspiration from a variety of
disciplines, including architecture, dance, and ecology, her designs seek to capture the interconnectedness of humans and the environment while simultaneously conveying the uniqueness of the individual. Combining her background in ballet and her interest in water flow to the physical form, her pieces are fluid: each dress is structured to highlight the body’s movement and vibrational energy. Her designs may appear delicately constructed, but upon closer inspection, they reveal expert mechanics that make them appear alive on the runway, almost like a dance between the body and the dress. Though each of her collections shares similar flowing lines constructed into symmetrical and often geometric patterns, no two pieces are alike, representing the connections between all species
and organic matter while still honoring the individual self.
Sensory Seas
Aiming to highlight the relations between the synapses in our brains and the biological structures of marine organisms, Van Herpen draws the foundation for her Sensory Seas 2020 Collection from the work of Spanish neuroanatomist Ramón y Cajal, who through his scientific illustrations bridges connections between the infinite messages within brain synapses and the branching “aqueous fabrics” of Hydrozoa, tiny sea organisms related to jellyfish and coral. To give Cajal’s drawings life, Van Herpen utilizes layered meshworks to illustrate the cellular geometry and evolution of the Hydrozoa. In various hues of blue, green, and red (referencing coral reefs), all of the dresses’ silhouettes spill towards the floor to evoke water and infinite brain messaging “that exists in a state of flux.” ¹
Roots of Rebirth
In her Roots of Rebirth collection for the Paris Haute Couture Week in 2021, Van Herpen explores the connections between the human body and the primordial fungi in woodland ecosystems. To shed light on the web-like role of fungi with its far-ranging roots, often unnoticed underground, Van Herpen’s collection illustrates the “fine life-bearing threads of mycelium” through layered lace designs with tones ranging from light copper to dark
brown.¹ These entangled layers of lace are meant to “resemble roots of regeneration” and embody both the “invisible interconnectedness” and the constant evolving state of growing fungi.¹
Evolving Fashion
Van Herpen believes haute couture and art are “one universe.” ² Just as art causes viewers to reflect on their own position in life, her most recent collection in June 2024, simply entitled “Hybrid
“Stitching together the different disciples of art, science, fashion, dance, architecture, and technology, I want to show that the embodiment of art can create a personal transformation.”
-Iris van Herpen
Show,” explores showcasing performers as living artworks to challenge notions of humanity’s perceived superiority over nature. Mounted upon and partially sculpted to huge canvases, models wearing tulle dresses, featuring classic Van Herpen elements such as fluid shapes and symmetrical patterns, were encouraged to move and force the audience to meet their gaze even while suspended. During the creation of this collection, Van Herpen thought about insects and their sensory experiences with environments
much larger than them. One of her designs, using the German word for environment, titled Umwelt, features a gradient of pearls creating a cyclic and floating feeling of being suspended like a trapped insect.Through this interplay of art and couture, Van Herpen aims to get “individuals to expand their understanding of the self to include their relationships with other living species.” ²
Today, Van Herpen continues to explore and experiment with a variety of fabrics, including blending steel with silk, mixing iron filings with resin, and even utilizing technologies like 3-D printing. Constantly evolving and experimenting with new forms of design, Van Herpen inspires the fashion world to draw inspiration from the great wide web of nature and transcends the boundaries of classic couture shows. Though she usually releases a collection annually, or in past years biannually, it can be assured that she will continue to pay homage to individual creativity through beautifully illustrating the evolving nature around us.
Photo Credits
Mighty Mycelium, https://www. ecbf.vc/mighty-mycelium. Semenov, Alexander. Hydrozoa, http://coldwater.science/project/ hydrozoa.
Van Herpen, Iris. Entangled Life Dress, Roots of Rebirth Collection, Spring 2021, Paris.
Van Herpen, Iris. Sensory Seas, Spring/Summer 2020, Paris.
Van Herpen, Iris. Umwelt, Hybrid Show, Spring 2024, Paris.
Eli Wenger, Zola Sullivan, Areebah Aziz, Eliana Gorden, and Eddie Culmer shot by Amelia Kemp
Photographed by Leo Kogan
NECROPHILIACS ANONYMOUS:
WHY OUR OBSESSION WITH ‘THE ARCHIVE’ IS KILLING FASHION
EDUARDO CULMER
IN THE BEGINNING—
1996, of course—Alexander McQueen created slutty mesh tank tops and black velvet crucifix masks for the Autumn/Winter show of his eponymous label, Alexander McQueen. At the time, the fashion industry was a formless void, and referential aesthetics oversaturated every designer’s collections. Like some sartorial god hovering over the face of the deep, Lee McQueen said, “Let there be originality in fashion.” And yet, in the year of Our Lord 2025, designers continue to churn out the same playedout styles that have haunted the industry for years.
In a scathing indictment of the fashion scene during the late ‘90s, contributing fashion writer for AnOther Magazine Osman Ahmed writes: “Dante came at a time when the work of many designers was so derivative, it was almost akin to necrophilia.” 28 years after McQueen’s Dante broke the repetitive norm and took the fashion world by storm, both creatives and consumers have since backpedalled into a morbid obsession with the past. Like a snake in the grass, nostalgia has always
found a home in fashion; as said in Women’s Wear Daily, “Nostalgia is a cog integral to the fashion machine.” In the 1980s, fashion took notes from 70s punk, 40s workwear silhouettes, and 1890s mutton-chop sleeves. In the 90s, 60s miniskirts were repackaged to reach new heights(as in hemlines), as Twiggy cut-outs reappeared on the moodboards of fashionable teenage girls across America. And the 2000s “Boho-chic” trend put a designer twist on the suede fringe of ‘60s and ‘70s hippie fashion, while the 2010s saw a massive return to the “Dad sneakers” worn in the ‘90s by actual dads. Since humans started wearing clothes for fashion rather than function, the styles of clothes we wear repeat themselves in a pro-
cess now commonly known as the “trend cycle.” As the years go by, fashion trends recycle themselves, becoming slightly modified by each generation that reappropriates them. In the 2020s, however, there seems to be little to no modification to these immortal aesthetics, leading many fashion critics to once again pose the question: Is fashion dead, and are all of us necrophiliacs?
The short answer? Hell yes.
Countless think- pieces have been written about the increasing birth-deathrebirth cycle of trends within recent years—and for good reason. Where trends have historically lasted years and defined decades of fashion, a fad in 2025 could come and go within what feels like the blink of an eye. Due to the rapid sharing of information over social media platforms, new “cores” and “aesthetics” are born every few months, usually inspired by some old runway or editorial shoot that somehow made its way onto New York City influencers’ TikTok “For You” pages and Pinterest boards. For Spring/Summer 2025, the latest style to be dragged from the archives and abused to death is the aforementioned “Boho-chic” trend from the 2010s. As California’s biggest annual music festival, Coachella, rages on, the stomping feet of frenzied influencers whips up the sands of time and teleports us all back to 2016. Slouchy
Left: Coachella 2015
Right: Coachella 2025
Balenciaga city bags, knit Chloé shawls over gold-embroidered bikinis, and campus Frye boots. For those who remember Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen’s dominance in the fashion industry or a time when the Rio De Janeiro filter was used unironically, fit pics in 2025 feel like a peek into the past. To make matters worse, this rehashing of the boho-chic trend is only one example of the nostalgia addiction that grips 2020s fashion. The “quiet luxury aesthetic” or “clean girl aesthetic?” Where have I seen those before? Oh! 90s minimalism. What about the “office siren aesthetic?” Answer: Giselle Bunchden in “The Devil Wears Prada” – the
blueprint for both 90s-2000s corporate fashion and its more recent incarnation. Is there truly nothing new under the sun, or are contemporary designers simply afraid to step out of the shadows of their predecessors? Maybe it is fear. Maybe it is laziness. Maybe it is that “damn phone.” Or perhaps the fashion world has become so wrapped up in itself, so inward-facing, that it forgot that the most iconic designers to date found inspiration in the most random places. The late, great Gianni Versace famously said, “Don’t be into trends. Don’t make fashion own you, but you decide what you are, what you want to express by
the way you dress and the way to live.” If the fashion industry wants to avoid ending up a graveyard of stale ideas, it has to stop playing dress up with the deceased. True innovation requires genesis—the pioneering spirit of McQueen, not a copycat costume of his work. Until then, the fashion industry will keep churning out copies of copies—beautiful, familiar, and utterly lifeless.
“IF
THE FASHION INDUSTRY WANTS TO AVOID ENDING UP A GRAVEYARD OF STALE IDEAS, IT
HAS TO STOP PLAYING DRESS UP WITH THE DECEASED.”
Left: Alexander McQueen, S/S 2025
Right: Juan de Pareja, Diego Velázquéz, ca. 1608-1670
YOU BIRTH IT
Isn’t that what all great fashion is? A remix, a reference, a glimmer of something seen before and now reborn in different hands? The cult of originality is a bit of a scam anyway; just ask Shakespeare or Jean-Paul Gaultier.
And let’s not ignore the humor of it all. Because fashion, at its best, is funny. A t-shirt reading “J’Adore Dior” in Helvetica bold. A knock-off Céline tote bag on Etsy. These piec es don't just mimic; they mock, and in doing so, they honor. The counterfeit be comes camp, becomes cri tique, becomes cool. You can’t bootleg what’s dead. You can only bootleg what’s alive.
I think of fashion as a kind of mythology. A Dior saddlebag passed down in stories and street corners, recreated again and again, altered by the hands that hold it. In this way, the knock-off becomes the new sacred object, not in spite of its inauthenticity, but because of it.
So maybe, just maybe, every time someone recreates, bootlegs, or reinvents an iconic fashion piece, they aren’t faking it – they’re giving it new life. And that’s not a copy. That’s a resurrection.
Photo Credits
Supreme Stickers, www.pinterest.com
Dapper Dan, www.thecut.com/2023/12/dapper-danx-gap-hoodie-collab.html
Gucci Belt, www.pinterest.com
Chanel Jacket, www.instagram.com/mon_maudesign J’adore Dior Shirt, www.rue-des-boulets.com/products/christiandior-black-patch-logo-t-shirt
I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE CAN I BE
MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN MY OWN
from Habibti Ghazal by Hala Alyan
Alma Davine, Ian Saunders, and Hana Colley shot by Jordan Block
Photographed by Jordan Block
Photographed by Jade Hsin
Photographed by Jade Hsin (middle) and Jordan Block (top & bottom)
by
Photographed
Amelia Kemp
Photographed by Jordan Block
Photographed by Amelia Kemp
Photographed by Amelia Kemp
Tattoos are catalysts for how we view the naked body. Tattooed people often encounter a barrage of questions: Don’t tattoos’ permanence scare you? Don’t you think it will alter your body’s natural state? How do you feel that your skin will never be truly naked again? Okay, so I made up that last one. I’ve never actually been asked that
how having a tattoo might alter the way I view my body. What’s always interested me about this is that the naked body might not actually have to do with bare skin at all.
In Thorsten Botz-Bornstein’s novel Veils, Nudity, and Tattoos: The New Feminine Aesthetics, she writes: “Nudity, wherever it appears in cultures determined by those religions, is inseparably connected to the narrative of Adam and Eve’s original sin told in Genesis.”3 Thorsten challenges the ways that nudity is tied to purity, to bareness, to the original form of the body. Here, nakedness isn’t really about physical appearance (i.e., exposure to a body without clothes) but about distancing oneself from the layers we add to our bodies. Thorsten asks us to reframe how we view nakedness, extracting ourselves from biblical rhetoric. What if we were to consider nakedness as it relates to feeling sexy or as it relates to feeling comfortable? Here is where
tattoos come in. After interviewing several friends, I realized that the membrane that distinguishes nakedness from privacy is paper-thin. Tattoos are a way that nakedness is pushed to the forefront.
“But if nakedness resists these initial premises, tattoos can become something much more functional: a way to interact with the naked body more fluidly.”
When asked how tattoos affect his experience and perception of nakedness, Brody Weiss responds: “I think it sort of gives me something to look at on my body—something that nakedness won’t allow for. Cause you can’t get more naked than nakedness. Tattoos are sort of like a vacuum for my eyes. Mine are colorful, so it gives me some color on my skin, and now that [they are] healed, it really does feel like my skin cells have been painted.” For Weiss, tattoos hyper-visualize nakedness.
They’ve added an aesthetic value to the human body, to the value of nakedness. Under Weiss’s understanding of the influence of tattoos, tattoos have functional and aesthetic value. If nakedness is the body without any adornments, then tattoos compli cate this social view of the body. But if nakedness resists these initial premises, tat toos can become something much more functional: a way to interact with the na ked body more fluidly.
Thornsten also com ments on the paradox ical nature that na kedness occupies: “It is paradoxical that ‘in the Christian tradition, nu dity functions doubly, as metaphor both for inno cence and the lack of it.’”3 Ruth Barcan’s de tection of the paradoxi cal relationship between nudity and innocence flows out of the narrative from Genesis that estab lishes nudity as a sort of metaphorical veil. Before Adam and Eve had ob tained knowledge about their nudity, they were never nude but were covered by the divine grace, which surround ed their nude bodies like a veil. When this veil interacts with non-natural additions to the body, like tattoos, nakedness’ definition becomes much more nuanced, more subtle. It’s a curious thing that tattoos are often viewed as damaging the body, or the notion of nakedness — a notion that is entirely decon-
structed once viewed under an objective, secular lens.
The interaction between tattoos and nakedness becomes more complicated when thinking about tattoos that are only visible when
with one’s body. On the other hand, hidden tattoos were of ten prompted due to secrecy, i.e., the fear of parents finding out. Leo Music is an example of the latter. Music started getting tattoos at a young age and states that “This was intentional because I started getting tattoos when I was pretty young and I didn’t feel like I had the confidence to
commit to an arm tattoo yet.” Confidence appears to be a barrier to having tattoos in more public places, as well as the fear of disapproving parents. Weiss comments on his decision to have hidden tattoos: “My most hidden tattoo is on my, sort of like the left side of my abs. I got it there because it was kind of a secret [with my parents], but beyond that, it feels like it has an intimate quality. It kind of feels sexy, because of that, to have a thing that can only be shown if I lift my shirt up.” It is in these ways that hidden tattoos participate in the social view of nakedness, one that Thorsten is keen to relinquish.
So, what does all of this tell us about nakedness?
I think tattoos are ways to explore the idea that nakedness isn’t hidden and isn’t about an original body. It’s the interior.
EXECUTIVEBOARD 2025
MARIA MILOVANOVIC STYLE DIRECTOR
OTTO LANNERT MODEL DIRECTOR
LINDSAY SHIH EDITORIAL DIRECTOR
CAI HELLMAN LAYOUT DIRECTOR
SAYAN NAIK EDITORIAL DIRECTOR
TREVOR PICANCO LAYOUT ASSISTANT
LAYOUT TEAM STYLE TEAM
Claudia Weisman, Alani Rey, Audrey Wood, Saskia Stripling, Rebecca Sherber, Jordan Block, Sasha Moskalyova, Chloe Mau, Maya Egrie
Sayan Naik, Jordan Block, Gloria Strettell, Noa DeRosa-Anderson, Bellie Floro, Otto Lannert
Photographed by Amelia Kemp
FOOTNOTES
1. Iris van Herpen, www.irisvanherpen.com/. Robertson, Emma. “Iris van Herpen.”
2.The Talks, The Talks, 17 May 2023, the-talks.com/interview/iris-van-herpen/.
3. Botz-Bornstein, Thorsten. Veils, Nudity, and Tattoos: The New Feminine Aesthetics, Lexington Books/Fortress Academic, 2015. ProQuest Ebook Central, http:// ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/vcl/detail.action?docID=4086433. Created from vcl on 2025-03-26 01:26:58.