Your Magazine Volume 13 Issue 1: March 2020

YOUR MAG

VOLUME 13 | ISSUE 1 | MARCH 2020

CONTENTS ROMANCE 3 THE DAY I WAS PRESCRIBED A CRUSH

EDITORIAL STYLE

EDITORIAL LIVING

EDITORIAL ARTS & ENTERTAIMENT

YOUR THINGS Y.MP3 ARTIST STATEMENT

5 7 9 15 17 19 21 29 31 33 35 37 47 49 51 53 55 57 58 59

BISEXUALITY: TO TELL OR NOT TO TELL I FOUND MY SUITEMATE’S VIBRATOR MATERIAL GIRL NEW YEAR, OLD TRENDS THE SCIENCE BEHIND A SYMMETRICAL FACE IS STREETWEAR DEAD? SUBURBAN NOSTALGIA IT FEELS SO SCARY GETTING OLD QUIT YOUR UNPAID THERAPIST POSITION NIPPOLITICS FROM GRADUATION TO THE ALTAR BREAKING SHAPE MALE ON MALE FICTION LITTLE TIMMY TIM STOP SLEEPING ON FEMALE DIRECTORS PARASITE: BREAKING BARRIERS MADISON DOUGLAS AND ISABELLE BRAUN ANDY CAIRA SONGS TO GET READY TO BONNIE PARKER

YMEMERSON.COM | INSTAGRAM: @YOUR.MAG | TWITTER: @YOURMAGEMERSON

1 | YOURMAG

YOUR Mag

EDITOR’S letter

VOLUME 13 | ISSUE 1 | MARCH 2020

EMILIE KRONE

TIANNA LOVERDE

ABIGAIL NOYES

LILY WALSH

LILLIAN COHEN

MADISON DOUGLAS

ANDY CAIRA

TATIANA GUEL

OLIVIA CIGLIANO

MARIANNA POLETTI

ISABELLE BRAUN

EMILY KING

AMANDA HAMPTON

PALLAS HAYES

TALIA SMITH

YELIZAVETA ROGULINA

LEE ANN JASTILLANA

NATASHA ARNOWITZ

TIFFANY CARBON

ELOISA DE FARIAS

ALLISON HUGHES

LAUREN DILLOW

JESS FERGUSON

RANA SAIFI

KATIE POWERS

ALLISON DUGGAN

JULIE GIFFIN

ELLA WANG

Editor In Chief

YMTV Director

Managing Editor

Co-Creative Director

Romance Editor

Co-Creative Director

Style Editor

Co-Head Designer

Assistant Style Editor

Co-Head Designer

A&E Editor

Photo Director

Assistant A&E Editor

Living Editor

Web Director

Assistant Web Director

Co-Copy Chief

Co-Copy Chief

Head Proofreader

Marketing Coordinator

Assistant Photo Director

Art Director

Assistant Art Director

Editorial Director

Style Director

Talent Manager

Co-Event Coordinator

Co-Event Coordinator

LEA GURVAL

Assistant Marketing Coordinator

COPY EDITORS: ALLISON CARAVELLA, CHARLOTTE DRUMMOND, ALEXIS GARCIA-RUIZ, MEHER GUPTA, KAITLYN HACKETT, CATE HAYES, KATE HEALY, NADIA HIBRI, REBECCA LETTS, ANDREA MENDEZ, NATALIE MICHAUD, MADELYN MULREANEY, AMAYA SEGUNDO, TIVARA TANUDJAJA SOCIAL MEDIA: ALLISON DUGGAN, SEOYEON LEE, ELLA WANG

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or so many of us, 2020 will be a decade of major changes. Some of us are living alone for the first time; others of us are voting in our first presidential election, or preparing to leave college and start our professional lives. By the end of this decade, we’ll have graduated, found careers, and moved to new cities we can’t even imagine living in yet. It’s a lot to take in.

This new year, the staff of Your Magazine is feeling a little overwhelmed by the future. So, we’re not thinking about it. Instead, this issue lives in the present and draws upon our nostalgia for past eras, from our childhoods and beyond.

You’ll see this longing for the past reflected in our “Material Girl” editorial on page 9, which draws upon all of our favorite memories of the early 2000s.

Alexis Garcia-Ruiz, in her piece “It Feels So Scary Getting Old” on page 29, tackles that fleeting sense of adolescence that weighs on us. In “Suburban Nostalgia”— which you can find on page 21—we reference key aspects of our early adolescence, from iconic sugary cereals to the simple pleasure of climbing a tree.

We hope the March Issue will offer you a brief escape from the looming threat of the future. For us, it’s been a breath of fresh air in an otherwise overwhelming time of transitions. So take a seat, grab your favorite childhood snack, and get lost in the pages of Volume 13 Issue 1. We really love how it’s come together, and we hope you will too.

With love,

DESIGN: HALEY BROWN, SEREN CHO, ANA HEIN, OLIVIA HEINZE, TOBY

LICHTENWALTER,

KJERSTEN

LYNUM,

MARYCATHERINE

NEAL, ILEANA PEREZ, GABRIELA PORTUGAL, OLIVIA TOWNSEND,

Emilie Krone

HONGXI YAO, GUO YU PROOFREADERS: CHARLOTTE DRUMMOND, KATE HEALY, REBECCA LETTS, MADELYN MULREANEY, MARYCATHERINE NEAL

YOURMAG | 2

THE DAY I WAS Prescribed a crush WRITTEN BY MAR MANRIQUE ART BY REBEKAH CZUKOSKI

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didn’t notice the impact of “love at first sight” when it occurred. Flechazo, as we say it in Spanish, is Cupid’s work—firing an arrow from afar and watching the magic happen. There was no evidence on my skin, just the impatient movement of my feet as I waited for a vaccine in the Drassanes Primary Care Center in Barcelona. The state of Massachusetts required me to get a meningitis shot before starting my semester abroad program. Twenty days before leaving Spain, I went to my appointment.

I saw him when I was in the waiting room. He moved in and out of his office. It wasn’t a vision, just a simple shake all over my body. He was tall with long blond hair and medical scrubs. Yes, he was the nurse.

“Have you been waiting for a long time?” he asked me.

“Kind of, yes,” I admitted.

I followed him into his office. Rather than chitchatting about the weather or awkward silence, he asked me about my present, past, and future. We jumped from one topic to another with the complicity of a first date. He told me that he had started working at the center only two days before we met.

Before that, he was surfing the French coast and living in his van. I told him that I was a journalism student about to study abroad. We shared the same love for travel and adventure.

“Maybe when you come back, I’ll still be here,” he told me.

It was a subtle insinuation and I jumped on it quickly. There were butterflies in my stomach fluttering around my insides.

I think both of us could tell that something was happening.

People around us noticed it as well. We talked for almost half 3 | ROMANCE

an hour. Someone should have shouted, “yo, man, kiss the girl!”

But he couldn’t kiss me. We were just two strangers standing in front of each other, asking ourselves if love at first sight existed.

I left the center with an arrow stuck in my back. I could feel it.

The next morning, I woke up thinking about the nurse.

My first thought could have been food, my actual boyfriend, or that I really didn’t want to get out of bed. Instead, I thought about him. He had a special beauty, imperfect, but I liked it.

He smiled a lot.

I started my search on LinkedIn. It was the only way I could think of finding him. I only knew three things about him: his name, profession, and where he worked. It was like looking for a ghost.

At noon, I gave up on the idea of finding him. All the men I found were men my father’s age.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my boyfriend. We are happy together, but I had never felt that way. I needed to know who he was. Sure, I had seen handsome men across the street and exchanged looks. I fantasized about the possibility of asking for their numbers. But this flechazo was different. It was magical and real. What would I do if I found him? Probably nothing.

I tried to believe that it wasn’t anything more than a funny story to tell my family and friends; the “what if ?”

And yet, sometimes life resembles a film, and the most unpredictable situations actually happen. The following day was that. While having lunch, I received a text on WhatsApp from an unknown number.

“Hi, Mar! I just arrived at work. I wanted to know if your vaccine hurt. I found your number on the computer program.

I shouldn’t contact you.” I looked at his profile picture: a guy surfing a big wave. Bingo.

After two days of chatting, he asked me to go out for coffee. It was time to tell him about my boyfriend. To my surprise, he was hiding something too; a girlfriend of two years who lived three hours away from Barcelona. I didn’t expect it at all. After having an honest conversation about our connection, we promised to go out for coffee sometime. It never happened because I took a step back. The week before arriving in Boston, I was nervous about moving. I wasn’t feeling ready to meet the nurse and allow him to know who I really am.

I can’t help but wonder what could have happened if I had met him for coffee. I ask myself if love is something we seek or something that finds us. I will never figure that out with him.

Cupid has a graceful way of playing with irony. No matter what he was thinking when he decided to fire an arrow against my back, we still felt a connection surrounded by vaccines, needles and…love. YM ROMANCE | 4

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hen it comes to forming relationships with unfamiliar people, “first-time jitters” are nothing new. It’s only natural to be nervous before meeting a Tinder match for the first time, trip over words at the first coffee date, or end up blatantly ignoring any potential connections—and all for arguably good reason.

New connections are scary. That’s just how it is.

I have yet to meet someone who isn’t even slightly scared of intimacy. But, for me and other queeridentifying singles, new intimate connections involve the ever-so-familiar and anxiety-filled reality known as “coming out.” Unfortunately, the process of explaining my own sexual identity to others seems almost cyclical when seeking potential partners.

For the last three years, I’ve identified as a bisexual woman. Bisexuality is widely understood as being sexually attracted to people of more than one particular gender. Although this accurately encompasses my sexual orientation, labeling myself as just “queer” lately has seemed to make my life considerably easier. However, the term hasn’t made coming out to potential partners any less daunting.

If anything, my sexual identity seems to make it harder to open up to anyone.

The level of honesty I’ve projected about my sexual preference has come in many forms, ranging from telling a few close friends, talking it out with family members, and the occasional slip-up to a random high school classmate digging their way into my own personal hell. In the beginning, I did everything but accept my sexuality. I took every “crush” I had on a girl with a grain of salt and embraced all heteronormative relationships with open arms, leaving queerness on the backburner.

In short, I grew up convincing myself that I was straight. And, when I was finally bold enough to outwardly claim my queerness in high school, it was output with confusion and met with fetishization and erasure. Almost every straight man whom I came out to in the early stages of my sexual understanding would show “support” by fantasizing an experience that most often involved a threesome with them, me, and some other mystically-alluring queer girl willing to make a guest appearance. As for straight women, they mostly thought I was hitting on them, even if we had been platonic friends our entire lives.

It wasn’t until I left high school that I became

5 | ROMANCE

aware of the internalized homophobia I had been harboring since coming to terms with liking more than just cis men. In the first years of my sexual prowess, the degree to which I denied myself of embracing my queerness showed in my pursuit of new partners. This was a time when my favorite outward explanation for my sexuality was, “Girls are hot, boys are hot too, but I’m never going to end up with a girl.

It’s like 80 percent to 20 percent ratio in likeability— 80 percent being guys.” Thus, craving normalcy, I convinced myself and others that I would never really be able to be with a woman. The mindset stuck for an oddly long period of time, and I lived my life in denial of my own desires.

Yes, at the time, I was around immature high school boys (and girls), so the bar was set incredibly low in the first place. My external surroundings in high school in no way made my sense of misplacement any easier to deal with, nor did it stop the jokes or sexual advancements from rolling in. I found it inconceivably hard to stray from the “experimental” outlook that sticks itself to bisexuality and shapes its societal understanding, because most people around me had followed a similar mindset. Being bisexual as a young teenage girl made it an open playing field to be labeled as “the girl who will get with anyone, no matter what they have in their pants.” And, for a while, I played along with all the theatrics—partially due to internal confusion, but mostly because of the hyper-sexualized reputation that comes with labeling oneself as bisexual.

Although I’m considerably more comfortable with my sexuality now, coming out in new relationships is something that I always absolutely dread. I grew up with fear and anxiety surrounding my identity, and that's something I still can’t seem to shake. It’s hard to embrace queerness in a heteronormative world. It leads me toward unavoidable doubt in my bisexuality, perpetuating the idea that I’m “just confused,” or that I’ll “figure it out eventually.”

It wasn’t until graduating high school and learning more about the concept of sexual orientation and identity that I was able to solidly claim my queerness. Realistically, Emerson College is a bubble of safety. And although many of my queer friends have been able to provide me with a sense of solidarity, I am still constantly reminded of the many difficulties and the confusion surrounding bisexuality, and how those obstacles have and will continue to shape my life. YM

Bisexuality

— To Tell or Not to Tell

WRITTEN BY TALIA SMITH ART BY YELIZAVETA ROGULINA

ART BY EMILIE KRONE

I found my Suitemate’s Vibrator WRITTEN BY MELANIE CURRY ART BY ELEANOR HILTY

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rowing up, I rarely saw or heard any sexual references in my house. Other than the occasional television show or movie, my knowledge of sex was pretty limited.

When I lost my virginity senior year of high school, sex was still a big taboo. My sex tastes were pretty average—doggy style or missionary. The most “adventurous” aspects of my sex life were hooking up in a movie theatre or car.

It wasn’t until I came to Emerson that my knowledge of sex started to break outside of the box. It wasn’t because I was thousands of miles away from my traditional family; rather, I found my roommate’s vibrator.

A few days before the beginning of the spring semester, I was looking into Susie’s room for a T-shirt to wear for a party we were hosting in our dorm. But instead of a cute top, I found a vibrator. At first, I was confused about what it was, holding it in my hand for a while. Then, it started vibrating, making a loud buzzing noise. I stared for a few seconds before I realized that it was a vibrator, a sex toy Susie used on herself and her boyfriend.

I freaked out, immediately dropped it on the floor, and went back to the party without saying a word.

As classes started, I tried to forget about the “vibrator incident,” but no matter how much I tried to distract myself, I kept thinking about her sex toy and why I had never bought one for myself.

“I think it’s so important for people to be open with their sexuality,” says visual and media arts major Veronica ‘22.

“So many girls get uncomfortable with how they smell or taste or

how they look down there. I think it’s important to be open with conversation, so then you don’t have to feel weird when you’re having sex with someone.”

Veronica says she’s used sex toys since she was 14 years old. While she’s never been ashamed of her sexuality, Veronica says her decision to use sex toys was not so easily accepted by her parents.

To figure out my own feelings about sex and sex toys, I turned to friends for advice a week after finding Susie’s vibrator.

To my surprise, my friends also had vibrators and dildos in their dorm room. Contrary to public media, most college girls are not only sexually active with their partners but with themselves.

In fact, according to Bustle, 42 percent of women in the US own a sex toy and 68 percent of women have masturbated at least once.

Journalism major Tina* ‘22 says she bought her first sex toy, a vibrator, at 16 years old. While being in a long-distance relationship with her boyfriend of three years, Tina says she used her vibrator without shame. She doesn’t see a problem with finding pleasure in herself.

Growing up, masturbation was a taboo topic in my household. When I started having sex, my mom took me to the doctor for birth control. Never in our conversations about safe sex, pregnancy, or urinary tract infections did she mention masturbation or pleasure.

Masturbation serves as a stress reliever, an active workout, and a way to explore your sexual tastes. However, due to the limited amount of conversations on masturbation, it can be hard for women to feel comfortable with finding pleasure in themselves when they think the act is abnormal.

“I talk to my roommate so openly [and] we really get into these conversations where we’re talking about the first time we masturbated and stuff,” Veronica says. “It’s interesting to learn about other people and compare your own experiences.

[It] normalizes all the weird things.”

Having conversations with my friends about their sexual tastes and their decisions to use sex toys made it easier and more comfortable for me to take charge of my own sexual needs.

I don’t need to rely on hookup apps or parties to find pleasure— I have the power to decide to do it myself.

Without conversations about the importance of masturbation, I’m not sure if I would’ve engaged in my own sexual journey. Masturbation is normal and should be treated that way. There’s nothing wrong or unnatural about using fingers, dildos, vibrators, and other sex toys for company.

Who knew I needed to find my roommate’s vibrator to figure that out for myself ? YM

m at e r i a l

girl DIRECTED BY LAUREN DILLOW JULIANNE GIFFIN PHOTOGRAPHED BY EMILY KING STYLED BY LAUREN DILLOW JULIANNE GIFFIN SABRINA HARRIS TIANNA LOVERDE MODELED BY GABRIELLA AVELINO QUINN CHAO GEENA GANGI SABRINA HARRIS

New Year, Old Trends 15 | STYLE

WRITTEN BY AUDREY JABER PHOTOGRAPHED BY MADISON GOLDBERG AND GUO YU

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n oversized polka-dotted blazer with shoulder pads. A green, red, and cream striped crochet top. While both of these pieces could have been popular nearly 60 years ago, they actually both appeared on a spring 2020 runway.

Although it’s the start of a new year and a new decade, the fashion is not exactly cutting-edge. In fact, styles from the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s are expected to be popular this year. This means psychedelic florals, crochet designs, exaggerated collars, bell-bottom jeans, and lots of polka dots. But are these older styles a revamped fashion statement or simply outdated?

Well, that depends on who you ask.

Writing, literature and publishing major Gabby Portugal ‘22 is all for these vintage designs making a return. “I definitely have some of those styles in my wardrobe already,” she says. According to Portugal, you could find a lot of the ‘70s, some of the ‘80s, and just “a hint of the ‘60s” in her closet.

“The more flattering stuff from those time periods are coming back, which obviously we want,” she says.

She particularly loves the plaid skirts, ‘70s denim trends, and oversized clothing.

Political communications major Jess Cunha ‘22 also plans to wear at least some of these styles.

“As long as it looks cute on me, then why not,” she says, adding that she is particularly a fan of platform shoes and flared jeans.

But these styles aren’t coming back in exactly the same form as 50 years ago. Instead, they are returning in a more modernized and updated fashion.

While we will see ‘70s-esque, knee-length denim skirts, they will now be styled with knee-high or thigh-high boots. Psychedelic florals will be more abstract than past patterns, and according to an article from Harper’s Bazaar, crochet dresses will become a part of the modern sustainability movement because of the “slow, handmade technique that can be passed down generation after generation.”

On recent runways, the updated styling was clear. The polka-dotted blazer that appeared in the Balmain runway show went over a matching crop top. The crocheted, striped top in the most recent Gucci show was styled with a bomber jacket and plaid pants, and a neon blue Balenciaga

floral dress was paired with thigh‑high boots.

Portugal likes that these styles are coming back in a new way. “I like it because it’s recycling stuff from the past while still somehow making it new,” she says.

But while college students might be excited to add some vintage pieces to their wardrobe, not everyone is as willing to embrace the past — especially those who lived through the first iteration of the designs.

Joan Perry, 54 from Beverly, Mass., grew up wearing these styles, but she is decidedly less excited to see their return.

“They say once you wear it once, you shouldn’t wear it again,” Perry says, laughing. “Some [styles] you look back [at] and think, ‘wow, that was really awful.’”

Although she doesn’t plan to wear a crochet vest anytime soon, she’s not completely opposed to incorporating at least a small bit of the past into her current wardrobe. “If I found a cool jacket with big shoulder pads, I would definitely consider it,” she says.

Perry vividly recalls wearing oversized, shoulder‑padded coats with leggings as a teenager.

“They were so awesome because they were comfortable and cool,” she says. One photo of Perry as a young teenager shows her wearing a brightly colored polkadotted shirt alongside her friends.

As for why we will see the return of these styles, the fashion industry tends to look back on the past and use it to freshen up the future. Portugal compares it to “recycling style.”

Perry agrees with Portugal’s sentiment. She remembers when she wore capri pants as a teenager in the ‘80s. Her mom claimed to have worn the same style nearly 30 years before. Only then, they were known as “pedal pushers.”

In Perry’s case, history definitely repeats itself. Currently, her college-aged kids are wearing Doc Martens, shoes that she grew up wearing herself.

Her 21-year old daughter is even wearing her old pair.

So, whether we take inspiration from the past or actually wear pieces from a different era, it is inevitable that older styles will come back into fashion.

Younger generations didn’t live through these trends, so while adults may be dreading the return of their high school style, it seems new and exciting to those who weren’t around to see it the first time. YM STYLE | 16

The Science Behind A Symmetrical Face T

he concept of beauty is complicated. Beauty is both a biological feature and a subjective perception. Thanks to cosmetics companies, modeling campaigns, and photoshopped magazines, we are constantly being shown the “perfect” face.

Bella Hadid, sister to model Gigi Hadid and face of Dior perfumes, has been praised for her symmetrical face since her modeling career started in 2012.

Hadid has been universally acknowledged as beautiful by fans and magazines— and now by science.

Entomologists and evolutionary biologists Randy Thornhill and Steven W. Gangestad, published a study on this in 1993, finding that those with a more “average” face process a more diverse set of genes, linked to survival due to their bodies understanding a larger variety of proteins.

Everyone is a makeup of two parent’s DNA formation, but not every gene functions the same. Some are dominant and others are recessive, like brown hair as opposed to blond. Evolutionarily, physical attractiveness is thought to be an indication of good health, fitness, and fertility. People with these qualities appear to the public as more sexually attractive because they would make a good partner.

In ancient Greece, artists were treated as inventors. They created many of the techniques for painting and sculpting the perfect figure that we still see today, including the “golden ratio” which mathematically calculates the symmetry and proportion of a person’s face to optimize attractiveness.

Since then, beauty standards have evolved a bit, but not as much as one would think. Facial symmetry is still one of the largest universal attractive scales that scientists have studied. Plastic surgeon Dr. Julian De Silva created the “beauty phi” based on initial ancient Greek ideals of symmetry. He runs the Center for Advanced Facial Cosmetic and Plastic Surgery in London.

While studying a number of celebrities from around the world, Bella Hadid was found to have a 94.35 percent perfect face, according to the “beauty phi” algorithm. All measurable characteristics of her face rank about 88 percent “perfect,” with her chin scoring a whopping 99.7 percent. But De Silva isn’t the first to apply these ancient symmetrical standards to modern beauty standards.

Kendra Schmid, professor of biostatistics at the University of Nebraska Medical Center, appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show in 2009 to explain the sex-appeal of facial symmetry. She said that the ideal facial height is about 1½ times its width. Ears should be the same length as the nose. The face should make three equal horizontal quadrants, with the eyes and bottom of the nose as inner points. It’s the same way that people draw or sketch the baseline of portraits, before adding in an individual’s features of when imagining a hypothetical person. It stems from the original rules of Greek art.

But you don’t have to be Bella Hadid to reap the benefits of symmetrical beauty. In fact, averageness is proven more common to have symmetry.

So perhaps Bella Hadid is just the highest percentage of average?

I would personally like to think so. YM

17 | STYLE

WRITTEN BY LILLIAN COHEN ART BY ELIANA FLORES-BARBER PHOTOGRAPHED BY MADISON GOLDBERG

Is Streetwear Dead?

WRITTEN BY OLIVIA CIGLIANO PHOTOGRAPHED BY PALLAS HAYES

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t the tail end of 2019, designer Virgil Abloh rattled hypebeasts (trend-followers) everywhere when Dazed approached him about the future of streetwear. “I would definitely say it’s gonna die, you know? Like, its time will be up,” he says. “In my mind, how many more T-shirts can we own, how many more hoodies, how many sneakers?” If Virgil Abloh is announcing the death of streetwear, pay attention.

Abloh is a pioneer of the modern streetwear movement. He made his debut in 2012 when he founded the luxury streetwear brand Off-White, which came to be known for its screen-printed T-shirts and hoodies, ironic “quoted pieces,” and the famous industrial belt. In 2018, Abloh was named artistic director of Louis Vuitton and brought youthfulness, hip-hop influence, and modernity to the historic brand.

Upon his appointment, he also became only the third black designer to head a French luxury house. It is safe to say his opinion holds a lot of weight in this industry.

Streetwear originated in the ‘80s and ‘90s in the form of graphic tees and logos as cornerstones of surfer and skate culture. Around the same time, hip-hop music, graffiti, and break-dancing surfaced in popular culture, inspiring staple street pieces like baggy jeans, crop tops, and snapbacks. Rappers became style idols in the ‘90s, as they popularized pieces like Timberland boots. “Bling” culture, a style that could be described as casual luxury, also emerged in the ‘90s, which allowed brands like Gucci, Burberry, and Juicy Couture to branch into streetwear. In the early 2000s, streetwear materialized as true athleisure when jerseys, track pants, and sneaker culture reigned.

New generations carried these ideas into the 2010s where “bling,” skater, and hip-hop culture merged into one. This newer category of streetwear included Thrasher hoodies, Supreme fanny packs, Yeezy sweatsuits, Jacquemus ‘it’ bags, Gucci dad sneakers, and pretty much every “flex” that dominates Instagram. The 2010s served as a significant point of democratization of street style as trends from the internet-influenced brands and vice versa.

In that same conversation with Dazed, Abloh looked past the 2010s. He says, “I think that like we’re gonna hit this like, really awesome state of expressing your knowledge and personal style with vintage–there are so many clothes that are cool that

are in vintage shops and it’s just about wearing them.”

He adds, “I think that fashion is gonna go away from buying a boxfresh something; it’ll be like, ‘hey I’m gonna go into my archive.’”

So has hypebeastery overstayed its welcome in the mainstream? And is vintage fashion actually going to surpass streetwear?

HYPEBEAST and Strategy&, a consulting firm, collaborated on a “Streetwear Impact Report” in 2019 that concluded that streetwear is still thriving. The report found that three-fourths of industry respondents believe streetwear will grow significantly in the next five years. The survey also found that consumers spend up to five times more per month on streetwear than non-streetwear, and two-thirds believe that streetwear products never go out of style.

On the other hand, online thrift store ThredUP’s 2019 resale report unveiled the future of the secondhand fashion market, forecasting that it will double in five years and reach a worth of $51 billion.

The resale sector of the market, which deals with curated and higher-end pieces, is expected to drive its growth. ThredUP predicts that vintage clothing will make up one-third of closets by 2033. So Abloh might be onto something, but this isn’t so surprising.

While streetwear was evolving in the 2010s, thrifters were setting trends that reimagined old ‘80s skate styles, ‘90s normcore, and Y2K mall fashion.

This subculture introduced new staples that mixed with traditional streetwear. Where would 2010s street style be without thrifted Levi’s and checkered Vans?

Celebrities are even exploring their own elite version of thrifting: archived designer. Whether it’s Kim Kardashian-West and Cardi B wearing archived Thierry Mugler constructions on the red carpet or Normani posing in a 2001 Chanel two-piece set in Jamaica, it looks like luxury fashion is starting to look backward to move forward. Vintage is getting more attention across the board.

Abloh’s statement is quite definitive for a genre of style that shapeshifts in response to youth culture.

Vintage clothing is becoming a large part of streetwear, but streetwear basics like hoodies and sneakers are definitely going to stick around for at least another decade. In fact, thrift stores are chock-full of them. YM

STYLE | 20

Suburban Nostalgia

DIRECTED AND PHOTOGRAPHED BY TAINA MILLSAP MODELED BY DAVID GREENE

It Feels So Scary Getting Old WRITTEN BY ALEXIS GARCIA-RUIZ PHOTOGRAPHED BY MARIA VU

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The second that society slots you into the n the months since Greta Gerwig’s Little Women “woman” category, the part of you that was free to err was released, I have seen the film five times. Each on the path to becoming the most authentic version of time I watch it, I leave the theater a blubbering mess, you ceases to exist. There are intrinsic expectations that waxing poetic about Gerwig’s genius. The biggest gutcome with womanhood that inhibit growth in a way punch, for me, lies in a single scene: Jo March begging which we do not experience as teenagers. When we her older sister Meg not to marry, sobbing into her lap become women, we are expected to contain as she laments, “I can’t believe childhood is over.” ourselves—to conceal the emotions that made us Every piece of media that has ever made it to my who we were as girls. Where girls see some leeway in favorites list has always been thematically the same— expressing strong emotions, grown women are following a typical coming-of-age story. From Stephen considered lesser and weak when they do the same.

Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower to Lorde’s We see this problem portrayed in Gerwig’s Little “Ribs” and, more recently, Gerwig’s Lady Bird and LitWomen, in the conversation that happens between Jo tle Women, no narratives affect me as deeply as those and Marmee, where Marmee painfully confesses to her which deal with the fleeting notion of adolescence. daughter: “I am angry nearly every day of my life.” This And I am not alone in this feeling. Journalism scene, coupled with the end of the film, helps thread a major Tiffany Carbon ‘22 says, “I do tend to gravitate subtext that the explosive potential of the March sisters towards coming of age stories way more than other will not be realized. That is, womanhood necessarily stories because it feels really comforting to see a kills a part of every girl, just as it thwarted Marmee’s character at a similar stage of life as me going through expression of anger. a lot of the things I experience.”

Two alternative endings suggest On the surface, it is easy to extwo possible answers to the quesplain why this theme is so wide“What is it tion of how to continue living ly loved: the transition from about these films when adolescence is over. In childhood to adulthood is a universally formative experiand these songs that the version where Jo is married, whole family (minus Beth) ence. Coming-of-age stories touches us so deeply the is together, each sister pursuing remain compelling because everyone, no matter where that we feel as though her dream, with Amy teaching and Meg teaching actthey are on their journey of we cannot possibly ex- painting ing. This ending feels like Jo’s self-discovery, can relate to ist as anything other gift to herself as a writer: it’s the them. This is why lyrics like “This dream isn’t feeling sweet than teenage girls?” best of all possible worlds, the closest she can get to a complete / We’re reeling through the return to adolescence. In the ending midnight streets / And I’ve never where Jo writes Little Women, however, felt more alone / It feels so scary, getting we see what feels like a more practical ending, where old” resonate so deeply with us. she remains true to her own passions and dreams but While this might explain the universal relatfeels hopelessly alone. Neither ending feels fair, because ability of coming-of-age stories, I think there is in both versions, a part of her is lost forever. something to be said about the way that teenagThis unsatisfying resolution feels like a nod to the ers—particularly teenage girls—seem to cling to and inevitable notion that the teen iterations of the March romanticize this period of their lives. What is it about sisters are dead forever. In this interpretation, Marmee these films and these songs that touches us so deepcan be read as the dimmed, adult version of a once ly that we feel as though we cannot possibly exist as explosively passionate girl. Contemporary media often anything other than teenage girls? portrays this problem as a teenage fear of turning into For me, it all boils down to a single, undeniable our parents. But for me, it’s much more than that. It’s truth: I loved being a teenager. In all its turbulent glothe daunting realization that every adult woman was ry, adolescence was the period of my life—and that of once a teenage girl, burning with the same passions that many other girls—where I felt I was the most genuine I feel were once the best parts of me. To see that they no version of myself that I could be. Every choice I made longer glow the same way is to realize, heart-achingly, felt simultaneously life-shattering and fleeting. As girls, that becoming a woman means letting that flame burn we glow in the space we take up in the world. As womout and losing that version of ourselves forever. YM en, we are forced to dim our own light.

LIVING | 30

B

eing a good listener has always mattered to me.

I try to be someone who is empathetic, listens to friends vent, and gives advice when appropriate.

In a healthy friendship, each person is mutually respected and gets equal time to talk and be heard. Truly good friends actively listen and respond empathetically.

Yes, usually someone interjects to go on a tangent, but in the end, both people feel heard and appreciated.

These standards dissolve if one person commands more attention in the relationship, forcing their friends to push aside their own problems. Some people tend to soak up more of their friends’ energy by constantly venting about problems without listening in return.

In this type of relationship, the supportive person becomes the “therapist” friend: the one who listens and gives advice but rarely gets to share their own issues.

While this can become the norm in some relationships, it’s not actually healthy.

Here’s an example: Jenny complains about her roommate to Sarah every day, and Sarah gives her advice for an hour. Sarah starts to tell a story about her own problems, but Jenny relates the conversation back to herself. Sarah is once again left giving advice instead of receiving help. This dynamic becomes cyclical, leaving Sarah feeling emotionally drained and undervalued in the friendship.

It’s not selfish to want to be treated with equal respect. When someone feels ignored or overlooked, it creates an unbalanced dynamic in which one person gives all their attention and energy to the other, yet receives nothing in return. Being the “therapist” in a friendship can be fun for a bit, but it gets old fast. After too many discussions about the same topic, conversation stops feeling productive and gets boring for the friend who has to constantly sympathize. That’s why I call this the “unpaid therapist” role, because a therapist never gets to share their problems with the patient.

There are real reasons this dynamic of onesided conversations is unsustainable beyond just being annoying and rude, one being that resentment builds.

“When people are feeling that they are giving, giving, giving, and not getting back, it builds resentment,” says Emerson professor and negotiation and conflict

31 | LIVING

communication professional Israela Brill-Cass.

She explains that if someone feels unsupported and doesn’t tell their friend how they feel, the relationship is strained further. “What ends up happening is you have no idea that you’re overutilizing my ear, but I’m going to hold it against you anyway. One of two things happens: I’m either going to start avoiding you, because I don’t want to deal with that messy conversation, or I’m going to go complain to our group of friends to get sympathy for it. All of that behavior wrecks relationships.”

Recently, I brought up this struggle to a friend— one who doesn’t make me her therapist—and when I finished talking, she looked uncomfortable. “I’m not going to talk about my problems anymore,” she said.

But that wasn’t the reaction I wanted. We always keep a balance in our conversations, so I wasn’t trying to shame her for telling me about her issues. Though I explained that I enjoyed listening to her vent and that this didn’t apply to our friendship, she wasn’t convinced. I felt bad for bringing up the topic in the first place.

I didn’t know how to effectively discuss this without invalidating my friends and their issues, but being honest is the first step. Brill-Cass thinks it’s important to be transparent when having a conversation to fix the tension. “I’m a huge fan of transparency as a default,” she says, “and being able to look at someone and say, ‘I care about our friendship a lot, but I’m feeling it’s not balanced. It might just be the circumstances that are going on in my life right now, but I feel like I’m there for you a lot, and then when I try to share with you, you don’t seem to have the time for me. I’d like to figure out a way that we can rebalance it so we both feel good.”

Using this dialogue addresses the conflict without causing extra tension. Although saying “I’m more supportive of you than you are of me” can sound like an accusation, if both friends care about the relationship, they will be receptive and work on fixing their issues.

And if one friend can’t be there for the other, it’s valid to say “I’m not in a place to be that person for you.”

It’s okay to walk away from a friendship and quit your unpaid therapist position. In the end, we all deserve to feel heard and appreciated—and we shouldn’t settle for anything less. YM

Quit your unpaid Therapist Position WRITTEN BY IZZY SAMI

ART BY MADELYN MULREANEY

nippolitics

WRITTEN BY MEREDITH STISSER

ART BY NATASHA ARNOWITZ

“B

ut, what about when you need to breastfeed?” This is the response given 99.9 percent of the time when a woman introduces the topic of nipple piercing—and it is so trite in so many ways. It is indicative of the deep-seated rejection of female bodily autonomy and it normalizes judgment of those who unabashedly choose to do what they want to do. It creates a harmful correlation for women, framing childbirth as their primary function.

The loaded implications of this statement reach far beyond the link of women and motherhood—echoing anti-reproductive rights motions, invasion of women’s privacy, weaponized shame, and the double standard between men and women who undergo the same procedures. In a shiny and kind utopian future, these ideals will die off as new generations defy the gender binary and reinvent the way people interact with each other. Until then, one must understand the quiet ways in which this question of “what about breastfeeding?” undermines the hope for gender equality.

Body modifications have cycled through fads for generations. In recent years, the nipple piercing, being flaunted by celebrities like Rihanna (praise be), Miley Cyrus, and Kendall Jenner, has gained popularity in the western world. Piercings, tattoos, and all modes of body decoration allow artistic personal expression.

They facilitate both individuality and cultural conformity. At their core, body modifications operate around the concept of emphasizing individuality and personal aesthetics. Yet, when a woman has a nipple piercing, the compulsory reaction is to judge the decision based on their hypothetical role as a mother to someone else. Many ask the question harmlessly, out of genuine curiosity based on their cultural conditioning, but this does not undo the stigma it creates. Nor does the innocent intention erase the truth that this question will never be asked to a man who pierces his nipple.

Asking women about their future ability to breastfeed reinforces the idea that a woman’s body is never her own, but something that only belongs to her until someone else needs to use it.

The fact that the question is so often begged proves the ideal hammered into American culture—the female body exists to serve a function, and that function is motherhood. When asking “what about breastfeeding?” the inquirer is operating nearly entirely on assumptions.

Assumptions like; the wearer plans on having children, the wearer is capable of having children, the wearer will breastfeed and not bottle-feed, the wearer already knows whether or not they have the capacity to breastfeed, and the wearer has taken all of this into consideration before getting the body modification.

Even more than that barrage of expectations—the connotation around the female nipple piercing is more weighty than the argument of “will you really want that tattoo when you’re fifty?” because it relies so heavily on

gender stereotypes and the commodification of female reproductive capacities. A great deal of the value of a woman lies in her physical body. To alter a body part so coveted as the breast is a rejection of the society that obsesses over, glamorizes, and simultaneously shames sexual organs. Everyone grows old and can regret an unflattering tattoo. The correlation made between nipple piercings and breastfeeding also brings up topics that assume specific reproductive capacities that may be exclusive to cisgender women, not to mention topics that could be very personal and even upsetting regarding matters of fertility. It is jarring how often a stranger will comment on a practice as deeply intimate as breastfeeding.

The discussion around nipple piercings and breastfeeding is far larger than the immediate implication. With the recent attacks on access to abortion and female reproductive healthcare across America, the nuance of the nipple piercing-breastfeeding question perpetuates the idea that public right overrides a woman’s personal decision. This is not to say anyone who has asked this question is anti-feminist. In all honesty, when I was researching the piercing myself, one of the first questions I googled was “can you breastfeed with a nipple piercing?” As a woman, it is ingrained into my subconscious to remember that I, regardless of how I choose to live my life, have some twisted sense of responsibility to care for a child I may never have. It is nearly impossible to separate myself from the identity of a mother if I care to keep the identity of being a woman. Though her body may “belong” to her for now, when the question of a child is introduced, it will supersede her own authority over her body. Let us not forget that when we question female autonomy over a cosmetic procedure, we open a gateway to questioning her autonomy in all forms.

Georgia, Alabama, Ohio, Kentucky, Mississippi, Missouri, Utah, Arkansas, and Tennessee have already taken advantage of this mindset by choosing to roll back abortion rights. Until a woman’s right to her own body is an authority rather than a “factor” to be considered, the gender binary and inequities within it will continue to pervade collective consciousness.

The liberation of the female nipple is no new concept. Past movements have failed to be intersectional and lack gravitas galore—but the nipple remains a charged button at the core of feminist issues. It is so important to recognize the unconscious gendered prejudices prevalent in day-to-day interactions.

End the double standards, respect a woman’s privacy, and disconnect the words “woman” and “mother” in your brain. Small-scale social change between individuals creates space for radical cultural shifts.

To put a hole or not to put a hole, is a question that only the owner of that nipple gets to ask. YM LIVING | 34

FROM GRaDUation TOThe THE Altar ALTAR To

WRITTEN BY ANA HEIN PHOTOGRAPHED BY XINYI GAO

F

rom the time that I was 12 until the age of 18, I attended an all-girls, private Catholic school named Villa Duchesne in the suburbs of St. Louis. The grounds were comprised of over 60 acres of forested land, and the main school building looked like a castle, complete with balconies, stone towers, and a lion-headed fountain. I loved that school, genuinely. My classmates were some of the most driven people I have ever met, and the teachers supported our ambitions and pushed us to succeed in an academically rigorous environment. But every time the administration mentioned graduation, I had to wonder why I attended.

In a lot of respects, our graduation ceremony was typical. The principal and valedictorian gave heartfelt speeches about how we were young and brilliant and had the whole word open before us now.

The only thing that was unusual was that we did the whole thing in wedding dresses.

The tradition was longstanding. My mother, who attended the school in the ‘80s, also wore a wedding dress for graduation. The dresses they wanted us to wear were very specific, as well: pure white, at least 1-inch thick straps, and hemmed to our ankles. This last detail was so we could easily wrap multi-colored ribbons around a pole.

Participating in this ceremony that they called “Maypole,” which has roots in pagan fertility rituals, was just another graduation tradition. It wasn’t a requirement to graduate, but we were heavily encouraged to participate by the administration— and so my entire class did. Twice a week on Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings for four months, we

met in the gym and practiced curtseying and waltzing around a giant phallic symbol.

Everybody at school had their opinions. My AP English teacher, Ms. Yee, vehemently protested it, calling it “the damn penis dance.” She only attended it once to show support to that year’s senior class when she couldn’t make it to their graduation, but she wore all black to symbolize the death of feminism.

I found it hard to disagree with her.

Once graduation rolled around, the message the school endorsed seemed to be: Okay girls, we’ve taught you how to be strong, independent young women who aren’t afraid to speak up, who are passionate and decisive and blisteringly smart. Now go out and get married and have babies!

Not to mention the fact that wedding dresses are astronomically expensive. I bought mine off the clearance rack, and it was still about $500.

The school had a closet of old dresses donated by former students in the attic that we could use, but there were only about a dozen of them, none above a size 10. I tried on many before going to the bridal boutique.

None of them fit me properly.

Now, my graduation dress sits in the back of my closet, behind ratty cast T-shirts and the navy prom dress I re-wore. It has grass stains on the hemline from Maypole and 2-inch thick straps cobbled together from the extra fabric of a scrapped train. I plan on saving the money and using my wedding dress for its intended purpose one day. Maybe I’ll send an invite to the principal and thank her for getting me to invest in my future early. YM

LIVING | 36

Eak i n g BR

h S a pE

DIRECTED BY LILLIAN COHEN

PHOTOGRAPHED BY ANNIE WOODBURY MAKEUP BY OLIVIA CIGLIANO LILLIAN COHEN LAUREN DILLOW EMILIE KRONE MODELED BY JEHAN AYESHA TALIA COLTEN BELEN DUMONT GABI LEONEL

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YOURMAG | 46

MALE ON MALE FICTION

REPRESENTATION OR FETISHIZATION?

WRITTEN BY ALEXIS GARCIA-RUIZ PHOTOGRAPHED BY TOBY LICHTENWALTER

O

ver the past several years, young adult literature has seen significant diversification, especially in LGBTQ+ characters. From Benjamin Alire Sáenz’s Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, published in 2012, to Rachel Hawkin’s Her Royal Highness and Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue, both published just last year, the genre has undoubtedly seen a rise in representation when it comes to queer stories.

One of the most notable examples is Becky Albertalli’s Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, which was adapted into the major motion picture Love, Simon in 2018. Love, Simon was a huge deal, becoming the first major studio-released teen film to star a gay protagonist.

Even more significantly, it broke a long trend of popular queer films that preceded it. Unlike tear-jerker movies like Brokeback Mountain and Call Me By Your Name, Love, Simon is a gay story with a happy ending. This is huge.

As queer kids, we grow up consuming so much media that does not represent our experiences. Straight kids have so many romance stories to choose from, from tragic romances that end in heartbreak to light-hearted, bubbly rom-coms with fairytale endings. For such a mass-market queer film to give its gay lead a fairy tale ending is game-changing. Queer kids deserve their John Green stories, too.

Despite this cultural impact, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda’s success was not without controversy, and not for the reasons one might think. The backlash did not come from senseless homophobes; it came from the queer community itself. For many gay men— particularly other gay authors—the fact that Becky Albertalli is a straight woman profiting from telling a male-on-male love story did not sit well. Publishing major Anthony Rodriguez is one of these individuals.

“Becky Albertalli being a straight woman writing queer stories is definitiely questionable and dangerous,” he says. “It can fall into horrible stereotypes which is exactly what she did in her follow up to Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, Leah on the Offbeat; it portrayed such a toxic look at bisexuality and I denounce that book entirely.”

For her part, Albertalli did address the controversy in an interview with ABC in 2018. She acknowledged the concerns of queer communities, expressing that she understands that no matter how much research a straight person may do, they cannot strip away their privilege nor know what it is like to exist as a queer person. Albertalli even went as far as to say that, “If [she] were sitting here today, knowing what [she] knows now, [she doesn’t] think that [she] would choose to write this book.”

This is part of a larger industry problem. Despite the progress we might be seeing in queer character representation throughout the YA genre, the same cannot be said about the market behind the scenes.

That is, male-on-male romance novels that have garnered attention and success over recent years have been written predominantly by cisgender, straight women.

The history of male-on-male romance, or gay romance typically written by women, dates back to the 1970s, when fan fiction communities first began to emerge. According to Camille Bacon-Smith, author of Enterprising Women: Television Fandom and the Creation of Popular Myth, writing male-on-male fanfiction was a means of sexual expression for women when female sexuality and desire was too taboo. Adult romance fiction, specifically male-on-male romance, allows for that same expression. While YA as a genre does not include explicit sexual content the way adult romance does, it is very similar in content otherwise, and this treatment of male-on-male relationships as fetishized objects has easily been incorporated into the genre.

One huge issue with straight women writing these stories lies in the fact that, when people write, the first audience is always the author. That means that, when straight women are writing these stories, they are writing them for a straight audience, thus the gay characters become an object of curiosity for straight people rather than relatable representations of gay men. This is the process by which they become fetishized.

The problem with male-on-male romance goes beyond the risk for misrepresentation, however.

When straight women are telling stories that belong to queer men, they are stripping them of their opportunities to tell their own stories.

For Rodriguez, the first time he felt properly represented in the media is a key example of why having stories written by people within a community is so important.

“As a gay Latinx man myself, I never really saw myself represented in the media until I read More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera,” he says. “Adam Silvera being a gay Latinx man as well, I have always aspired to be like him and have been following his books ever since. He truly is an inspiration.”

As a reader, and especially as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, I feel a responsibility to question dynamics where it feels as though someone may be exploiting members of the community. I also feel as though it is key for me to acknowledge that, as a queer woman, I ultimately do not get to decide whether gay men feel properly represented (or exploited) by straight authors. However, I do think these dialogues are necessary in ensuring that progress in healthy representation will be made efficiently. And this is only one conversation in a whole movement toward representation. The world of YA fiction is still incredibly lacking in diversity, and so much more work needs to be done to publish stories featuring transgender stories and stories featuring queer people of color, among many other minority groups. YM ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT | 48

ART BY MADISON MARZANO WRITTEN BY MEREDITH STISSER

Little Timmy Tim I

dolization is a dangerous intersection. It can deviate from a motivating force to a defeatist mindset. So often, inspiring people and celebrities become untouchable entities, representing an unattainable way of being. In the movie, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, the character of Joanne Rogers, Fred Rogers’ wife, states that she rejects when people call Fred Rogers a “saint.” To grant him sainthood is to imply that his kindness and gentle nature were such that real people could not attain. His very existence seemed an impossibility rather than something he worked hard at, and something that anyone can achieve. The pedestal that icons and idols are placed on creates a conception of them that reinforces the separation rather than the connection between idol and idolizer.

A modern object of intense idolization is none other than the bottled essence of art school king

and skinny legend, Timothée Chalamet. How did you read that name? Did you accent the Timothée?

Did Chalamet roll softly off of your brain tongue? The Manhattan-born, brown-haired, it-boy is a cultural reset. Things are different now that people know his name and have taken the time to learn its French pronunciation. Chalamet has revolutionized the artsy, white boy aesthetic while simultaneously infiltrating the world of high art and auteurship as the subject of much interest by A-list filmmakers. As an outsider to the Chalamet cult, I find his rise to fame and his mythology captivating. Despite his Oscar-worthy acting chops and hypnotic hot-person energy, there is an attainable and familiar side to Chalamet. Recently, videos of the star in his formative years have circulated the web, exposing his rapper alter ego, “Little Timmy Tim.” This manifestation of Chalamet exists at high school talent

shows and in sub-par statistics projects, and it depicts a coveted performer’s infantile stages of performance.

The video that will be dissected in this critical analysis is titled, “Timothée Chalamet - Timmy Tim - Rising stars 2012” and has over 1 million views on YouTube. It includes a 4 minute and 18 second long-form rap and dance performance, headlined by Chalamet, and it is hypnotic. This video demonstrates the complexity of Chalamet’s fame. Are these videos actually good? Is he talented, or is he just doing something and not being bad at it? Do I like to watch them because I’ve seen him have on-screen sex with both Armie Hammer and Saoirse Ronan? Or because he reminds me of my high school crush? We may never know, but one thing is certain: there is an undeniable sense that this video could have been taken in any American high school. There is a clear and present attainability to the video, even when its subject has become enigmatic.

Let us begin with the setting of the performance: a dimly-lit auditorium. The only backdrop is the traditional red curtain, an homage to the early days of the stage, a historical convention of live entertainment.

For Chalamet’s performance, this incomplete set decoration is intentional. The performance recognizes itself as a performance. To take away the red curtain or to more efficiently light the stage would be in the effort to convince the audience to suspend disbelief and view this performance as something to take them into another world. No, this talent show intends to remind the audience of their own reality and to insert Timmy Tim into that liminal space between performance and reality.

The choice of costuming and color palette speaks volumes about the intention of the piece. Chalamet wears a bright pink T-shirt. It’s the kind of T-shirt you buy at Michaels craft store and decorate with puffy paint for your eighth grade dodgeball tournament— go Hawks!—a down-to-earth statement piece, rejecting luxury. This same person will one day strut down the Paris red carpet in a magenta Stella McCartney suit.

This same person will also wear a homemade shirt from a fan underneath another Stella ensemble. A callback to his pink beginnings? A reassertion of relatability?

Be it intentional or not, the parallels between Chalamet’s 2020 and 2012 style choices reiterate the integrity of the roots of one’s creative career. Though he may cringe when interviewers mention these moments, they represent the engendering of Chalamet’s evolution into an Academy Award nominee and pop culture icon. These moments exist as seedlings in the flower of artistic excellence. The choice of pink acts as a rejection

of the masculine norms of the 2010s. This rejection of heteronormativity may have been Chalamet’s first defiance of sexual conformity that would open the door to roles like Elio in Call Me By Your Name.

Yet, his 2012 baggy gray sweatpants juxtapose the pink shirt. These sweatpants represent the unofficial uniform of a high school boy, while simultaneously quietly yelling for acknowledgment beyond the size of the imprint in his sweats. Chalamet was experimenting.

His vision was clouded. Do I break the rules or please the crowd? This is the essential question all young artists must wrestle with.

The choice to cover Nicki Minaj, the queen of rap, is almost too critically loaded to unpack. As an overview of such a choice, dear reader, I simply ask this: would you, as a wispy, pubescent, white male teen, have the courage to cover the discography of such an icon in an auditorium of peers and authority figures with the fervor that young Chalamet did? This is not to say this was a good or bad decision. But this decision does speak to the society in which he exists, a society that imbued him with the conviction to do so, loudly. I wish every individual the unabashed confidence of a 17-year-old white male attending a performing arts high school.

The climax of the performance comes at 1:58.

Chalamet is on his hands and knees, almost as if he is praying. He licks his lips, several times, and eventually mimes a thrust. He stands up and strips off his pink t-shirt. Underneath, he wears a white tank top with the words “txt me” and a phone number painted across it in red. This act was explicit. He imitates sex and strips, but not to his skin. He refrains from complete vulnerability, crutched by his call for approval in the “txt me” tank.

Every young artist experiences this trope. We put ourselves out there, we grind on our high school stage.

We fear backlash, but bound to our own ambition, we strip; however, we make sure to always keep up the wall of our white tank top. We want the world to think we’re vulnerable and confident, so we advertise our phone number, despite knowing at our rawest forms, we would advertise our bare bodies.

Timmy Tim articulated the growth of a young creative in seconds. Whether he knows this or not is unimportant. He likely does not. What should be taken away from this 4 minutes and 18 seconds of rapping, dancing, and self-discovery is that every great has a beginning, and often these beginnings are not quite so great. And so the youth must trudge on, forge our own path, and unabashedly growl “dungeon dragon” until someone listens, just as young Timmy Tim has done before us. YM ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT | 50

A

ll eyes focus on the academy’s choices during award season. However, viewers are disappointed, yet not surprised by the lack of female directors for the third year in a row for the 2020 Oscar nominations. Despite the amount of critically acclaimed films directed by women this year, the academy overlooked talent by only nominating men for Best Director.

It is a well-known feeling for women to be cast aside by their male peers in entertainment.

Females have to work twice as hard just to get the same amount of recognition. However, their films are still dismissed and nominated for anything besides the best director category. This all-boys club really misses out on the amount of culturally and beautifully diverse cinema that women directed throughout the years.

Here are just a few of the many acclaimed films put out this past year by female directors: The Farewell by Lulu Wang, Little Women by Greta Gerwig, Hustlers by Lorene Scafaria, Honey Boy by Alma Har’el, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood by Marielle Heller.

Each film exhibits raw depictions of real life issues.

Such as, dealing with the death of a loved one in The Farewell or taking advantage of Wall Street men that exploit women in Hustlers. Some of the films highlight the idea of women living in a man’s world without proper representation as well. Despite the validity of these films’ messages, they went unrecognized and the directors’ roles in the industry diminished.

People are mistaken if they believe this is a new trend. Throughout the entirety of its 92 years, the Oscar nominations only recognized five women for the best director category. This is a constant trend where females in the industry, especially those of color, appear invisible in the eyes of these so-called “critics.”

No woman of color has ever received a nomination for best director. It raises prevalent concerns of sexism and racism in the film industry. The academy makes it excruciatingly clear that it does not want to recognize these trailblazing women’s stories. So how should women move past this?

According to VMA professor Kathryn Ramey, “white patriarchal heteronomative values and interests are deeply entrenched and we still don’t know how to

51 | ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT

work well enough intersectionality to support each.

So, my best advice for aspiring female directors is to find people you can work with whose values align with your own. Make projects that matter to you. Support each other. And get your work out there. If they won’t give you a seat at the table, make another table that shows how irrelevant and archaic their table is.”

Despite the magnitude of the issue, it warms my heart that the media is coming together to help spark some accountability for these award shows.

Women aren’t going to continue to sit and allow their work to go unrecognized anymore. This lack of representation brought an uproar on Twitter and many other social media platforms. Some say that this can be solved with more female voting bodies on the academy team. However, equality does not always mean equity. People need to be willing to give women that same fair treatment, marketing, film distribution, and proper representation. In regards to acknowledging the accomplishments of females in the industry, especially women of color, much work needs to be done. Freshman Nadezhda Ryan, aspiring director, says how “the academy preaches all of these progressive values but rarely puts them into practice, hence no female director is being nominated this year. It feels like there’s this weird culture where women are working on films more and more, but that progress stays behind the camera.”

It is quite unforgivable that the academy throws its entire weight behind male filmmakers but as soon as it is a female, the line of recognition suddenly blurs.

Many may pull the “but it’s not about the award” card, but let’s all be real that it’s about time that a woman gets recognized for her talent. There are plenty of white, cisgender men that have been rewarded for best director in award season. I think it’s time for women to be recognized for something they rightfully deserve. There has been such an increase in the number of films that have and continue to be made by women in the last couple of years, yet the number that gets nominated for best director stays the same. Zero.

Let’s take down the patriarchy one step at a time because the best director category should not be an all‑boys club. YM

STop SLeeping on Female directors WRITTEN BY NEEKA BOROUMANDI PHOTOGRAPHED BY ALESSANDRA GUARNERI

WRITTEN BY SEOYEON LEE ART BY ELIZABETH APPLE

Parasite

Breaking barriers and setting the standards

I

t was late May 2019, almost turning June. I was still in Seoul, Korea, enjoying my first summer break after graduating from high school. A new Korean film was just released, and I couldn’t get away from it. My friends posted about it on their Instagram stories, talking about how amazing this new movie was. I personally do not watch a lot of Korean films in theaters, as my Korean is not completely proficient.

I often missed important parts of films without English subtitles. I dismissed the movie casually, thinking it was probably a cool, trendy, drama movie that everyone will probably stop talking about in a few weeks. Fast forward to October, I see the same movie playing in the AMC theaters in Boston. NOW PLAYING: Parasite (기생충).

I was completely shocked. I never, in my eight years of living in the United States, saw a Korean film playing in an American theater. In January 2020, the film received six Academy Award nominations, including best picture.

The film revolves around the Kim family, who struggle to make ends meet.

They plot to get hired by the wealthier Park family by posing as experienced and qualified individuals. The film takes a major turn as the family discovers a dark secret about the previous maid that worked for the family. These surprises in the storyline are often used by directors to excite the audience, but director Bong Joon-ho’s strategy has a different meaning entirely. Joon-ho incorporates various motifs that symbolize differences in class and the unchangeable rules of society. For example, there are many symbols regarding class, such as the Kim family living in a poor semi-basement home, versus the Park family living in a hilltop mansion. There is also a rock that is given to the Kim family by one of their friends, representing false hope and fortune.

The film takes an unexpected turn halfway, and all the families are never the same again. Parasite received critical acclaim from film critics and the general public, winning both a Golden Globe and a Screen Actors Guild Award.

Parasite infiltrating the American film industry is a huge step for South Korean filmmakers, and it developed out of a movement years in the making. Parasite is one of the biggest landmarks in the “Korean New Wave of Cinema,” a 1990s film movement in South Korea that received wide recognition, both nationally and globally. South Korea implemented a quota that restricted the amount of time foreign films could be screened in the country in order to motivate domestic filmmakers and build the foundations of the Korean film industry. These “new wave” films often discuss political agendas, classism, and other social issues that are prominent in the country. Bong Joon-ho is one of the highly acclaimed Korean filmmakers who is part of this new wave, creating films such as Memories of Murder and The Host.

The lead actor of Parasite, Song Kang-ho, also starred in those two films; he is one of the most accredited actors in the country.

“Because we are living in such dramatic times and have such a tumultuous history, we can’t help but be emotionally impacted by our realities. This is why [Korean films] can’t help but be different from western European films,” Bong Joon-ho says in a 2018 interview with TIFF Originals.

Parasite is noted as one of the best films of the entire decade, and it leaves a bright future ahead for the Korean film industry. This will not only leave an impact on the Korean film industry forever, but also the perspective on film around the world.

It opens doors for indie films and films from other countries to be recognized globally.

All in all, Parasite is not just a movie to be forgotten in a matter of a few years. YM ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT | 54

YOUR T WITH CO-CREATIVE DIRECTOR MADISON DOUGLAS REEBOK CLUB C CLASSICS My feet are big so when I find a pair of shoes that fit I wear them to the bone. These Reebok Club C Classics are my most worn pair of sneakers. There is a hole on the inside of both heels and the sole is coming off of the right foot.

When I first got them it felt like I was walking on clouds and I wore them everyday during my semester abroad. I wear them with almost every outfit and will wear them until they fall off my feet in which case I will replace them to restart the cycle.

KEY CHAIN This is my second Tabitha keychain. I got my first when my roommate came to visit my hometown freshman year and I took her to this little trade store downtown. We didn’t realize at the time that each keychain came with his or her own special power that is always positive and helpful which sounds cheesy I know. Tabitha makes sure you always remain a free spirit which is just fitting to who I am. My dog ate my last one over one Thanksgiving break so now I have Tabitha 2.0.

PINK COWBOY HAT I will always prefer the city but I grew up in the south and it will always hold a special place in my heart. I got this pink cowboy hat to hang on my wall this year and it is one of my best purchases. It is a little reminder of home and I feel like it resembles my personality plus it has been a great party accessory for any occasion.

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THINGS ART BY YELIZAVETA ROGULINA

WITH A&E EDITOR ISABELLE BRAUN BLANKET SCARF There’s honestly nothing better than a blanket scarf. I travel a lot, and carrying a big coat is very inconvenient, so I often just bring a blanket scarf to keep warm. It’s this mini blanket that comes in fun colors and designs, and it’s the perfect travel accessory.

LAVENDER I love everything lavender! From the color to the smell, it gives me a sense of calmness and makes me happy. My wallet, computer case, and many of my clothes are lavender. I think it’s a beautiful flower as well, and I often have the fresh flowers on my nightstand.

MY GRANDFATHER’S PEN As a writer, I’ve always preferred the process of pen to paper.

My grandfather had a great understanding of that and fostered my passion. We always talked about the stories I was writing, and he would ask questions that made me really think about the characters. This pen is the last thing he gave me before he passed away. He signed every business contract with it, so it means the world to me that he gave me his pen.

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YOUR THINGS

WITH STYLE EDITOR ANDY CAIRA MY VAN GOGH PENCIL CASE I bought this case at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. During spring break of my freshman year, I went to visit my best friend who is studying at the University of Glasgow, and we took a three-day trip to Amsterdam. I love Van Gogh, and seeing such a large collection of his work in that space was incredible. I now use this pencil case to store all the art items I like to carry around with me, including my micron pens, water brush, pencils, and ink brush pen. It is one of my favorite possessions and reminds me of my best friend and great memories.

MY GAME BOY ADVANCE SP This was a gift from one of my high school friends. I have always been a Nintendo kid and loved the handheld systems growing up. The start-up jingle reminds me of when my friends and I would make forts and play PokĂŠmon and Animal Crossing together. This system is also where I was introduced to one of my favorite games, Harvest Moon.

DOC MARTENS My mom bought me these boots for a Christmas gift sometime in high school. I thought I was super punk rock going to school wearing these.

They are such a comfortable and utilitarian shoe. I wear them all the time, and they have certainly been well-worn.

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Y.MP3 SONGS TO GET READY TO IN THE MORNING COME DOWN—ANDERSON .PAAK GONNA LOVE ME—TEYANA TAYLOR BLOOM—BLACK PARTY MILK AND COFFEE—NOMBE BETTER BY MYSELF—HEY VIOLET RUN IT BACK AGAIN—CORBIN BLEU MONEY—LEIKELI47 WATERMELON SUGAR—HARRY STYLES SCREWED—JANELLE MONÁE KING OF ECHO PARK—TV GIRL JUNK OF THE HEART (HAPPY)—THE KOOKS ÉCOUTE CHÉRIE—VENDREDI SUR MER DONATELLA—LADY GAGA 9 TO 5—DOLLY PARTON GOLD—SISTER SPARROW GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN—CYNDI LAUPER HEY BABY—NO DOUBT BABY BLUE—ACTION BRONSON, CHANCE THE RAPPER

artist

B

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parker DIRECTED AND PHOTOGRAPHED BY

statement

BONNIE

MADISON DOUGLAS

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“I am now an adult and I art school, and what I h represent who I am or w

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I’m gay and I go to had out there didn’t who I want to be.”

How did this all begin?

How did music become a part of your life?

I’ve loved music ever since I was a baby...throughout my childhood, I would go through phases listening to classic pop divas. My first CD was the Dixie Chicks. I credit Cher for getting me into music because I saw her on the TV, and I saw the theatrics of her performance, and as a gay 3-year-old I was honestly like, “that needs to be me someday.” So I’ve been putting myself and my music in the public eye since I was 11, and I had a webcam plug-in on my desktop...so I’ve been out there for a while. I had garnered a fanbase across multiple years through various random endeavors like the X factor, and I have this one video that went viral when I was 13...I was on vine...it’s been a weird trajectory of me trying to put myself out there to say “this is me.”

How did you come up with the name Bonnie Parker?

I dropped an EP under my name, Andrew Muccitelli, and kind of looked at it and the way it was being received, and I just wasn’t hitting the demographics that I wanted to hit. I am now an adult and I’m gay and I go to art school, and what I had out there didn’t represent who I am or who I want to be...I wish I could just have a completely fresh start. So I was contemplating potential names...I was high as hell one night...I was reading some Bonnie Parker/Bonnie and Clyde poetry and stuff...and I got swept into this...and I was like “this is so me,” and I was like “Bonnie Parker.” So I started testing it, told some of my friends about it, and they seemed supportive, so I was like “fuck it.”

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What does your recording process look like? Are you doing everything yourself?

I write all the songs, and I work with this guy Alex Andrews who’s a drummer, and a bassist named Jack who handles the bulk of the production, and those are the only 2 people that I would qualify as members of Bonnie Parker.

I only record in LA, but I’m still writing out here, and I’m doing solo shows... it’s just me because my bandmates are in LA, and I love the vulnerability and intimacy of it.

What would you say your favorite song of yours is?

The one that we’re about to drop is called ‘Scarborough St’...that one’s my favorite one that’ll be out. I also like ‘Bonnie.’ Even though it’s like the least popular one. ‘Jason’ is the one that popped off for sure, and I’m really proud of that one, but it’s so much more like a pop song, and formulaic catchy song, but I like ‘Bonnie’ because it gets so crazy at the end.

What would you say your sound is now?

My sound now is definitely more...like what’s released I would say is more indie-pop, I guess is what I would call it, but I listen to mostly alternative rock and indie rock. I’m trying to pursue that harder kind of edgier sound when it comes to an album.

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follow @Bonnieparker on instagram and stream his music on spotify

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