ISSUE 16 | 16: LEGACY

Photographed by Ira Wilder

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF

Editor- Joey Marmaud

Editor- Monique Gandy

CREATIVE DIRECTION

Director- Sophia Katz

Director- Thomas Moody-Jones

ARTS

Editor- Grace Wilkinson

Annabel Dougherty

Ashley Daniel

Phoebe Martel

BEAUTY

Editor- Jaden Esquivel

Nail Tech- Max Mara

Grace Berry

Jaden Juarez

Lily Richardson

Savannah Nelson

DIGITAL

Director- Ashley Quincin

Annie Ascher

Ashley Humphrey

Chloe Johnson

Hayley Owens

Lauren McClane

VIDEO

Emily Rollins

Marilee Combs

Mia Taboada

Sarah Thompson

FEATURES

Editor- Sinclair Holian

Becca Savidge

Celia Funderburk

Jessica Johnson

Michelle Seucan

Olivia Dela Cruz

Stefan Stalker

Sydney Brainard

Vishal Varadarajan

GRAPHIC DESIGN

Director- Niha Kanumuri

Associate- Ella Price

Associate- Sanvi Korsapathy

Anna Thomas

Arushi Rathod

Betsy Porter

Kiki Kozak

Minh Anh Le

SOCIAL MEDIA

Director- Elshaddai Daniel

Associate- Adolfo Alvarez

Ashley Hinostroza-Villacorta

Laney Gragg

Lucie Bridges

Mallaury Pageau

Sadie Donnelly

Safa Tonuzi

Sarah Groce

Savannah Gallis

Stella Griffin

Tiffany Jones

OUTREACH

Director- Ashley Daniel

Consultant- Jenna Cashman

Consultant- Joelle Adeleke

Consultant- Olivia Wang

Alexandra Sanchez Maldonado

Ashley Hinostroza-Villacorta

Caroline Gottlieb

Chloe Morand de Jouvencel

Lily Richardson

Tiffany Jones

Victoria Smallwood

COPYEDITING

Chief- Adithi Reddy

Associate- Makayla Santos

Associate- Sarah Monoson

Anna Grace Padula

Grayson Franco

Juan Castillo

Katie Church

Lily Richardson

Mila Mascenik

Tianyi Wang

Valerie Jackson

Will Kleinschmidt

WELLNESS

Editor- Cameron Shaw

Editor- Stephanie Momanyi

Associate- Mary Claire Haldeman

Associate- Rayyan Hijazi

Elizabeth Nam

Henley Younts

Murad Abdi

Nina Wozniak

WEB

Director- Kyren Ual

Associate- Ashley HinostrozaVillacorta

Ce’Niyah Ellison

Hayley Owens

Jiaer Ji

PHOTOGRAPHY

Director- Ira Wilder

Associate- Sophie Hughett

Allyson Rabon

Alzahraa Al Bayati

Angie Tran

Annika Duneja

Calli Westra

Caroline Mara

Claire Brennan

Dallia Lindell

Dylan Thiessen

Elizah Liberty Van Lokeren

Erica Boey

Heather Diehl

Jay’la Evans

Juliette Dias

Katelyn Crespo

Kaya Jordann Smith-Burgess

Kush Shah

Natalie Peoples

Olivia Paul

Sarah Coates

Sarita Lokesh

Sonia Zhu

Vivien Liebler

STYLE

Editor- Loulie Olson

Editor- Maile Maldonado

Associate- Elizabeth Comer

Associate- Gigi Guffey

Alex Johnson

Annabel Dougherty

Ava Mayo

Caroline Gravelle

Caroline Mara

Henry Thomas

WEB

COULTURE.ORG

INSTAGRAM

@COULTUREMAG

TIK TOK

@COULTUREMAG

Ingrid Hager Story Oliver

Isabella Clucas

Kathryn Chao

Livia Loverso

Madison Winn

McRae Lillie

Michelle Seucan

Sarah-Morgan Smith

Sarah Ruth Jackson

Shea McIntyre

Story Oliver

Tara Sneed

MODELING

Director- Taylor Maffeo

Adolfo Alvarez

Alice McCracken Knight

Anna Jin

Ashley Habig

Audrey Lin

Brynna Miller

Ce’Niyah Ellison

Chethana Madireddy

Connelly Miller

Diannah Halim

Dianne Celemen

Diya Joshi

Ember Penney

Emiley Gurganus

Emilie Allen

Emily Rollins

Emma Cooke

Erin Rogers

Fiona Hasanaj

Gauthami Manepalli

Grace Berry

Hailey Clodfelter

Henry Thomas

Izzy Richie

Jaden Esquivel

Jaden Juarez

Jania Richards

Jelena Boskovic

Jill Tora

Jinsil Kim

Katherine King

Kathryn DeHart

Krista Barber

Kyle Bayaca

Lauryn Lovett

Liz Wolfe

Luke Francis

Lydia Chen

Madeline Nguyen

Makayla Santos

Mariam Ali

Michaela Tse

Nathan Poesel

Niharika Ghoshal

Nyah Rizzuti

Olivia Sallis

Prithvi Adiga

Reece Tuggle

Safa Tonuzi

Sanyukta Lamsal

Savannah Gunter

Shania Mastan

Sophie Pinkston

Taft Stevens

Thomas Benson

Victoria Bowman

Vivian Bunker

Will Kleinschmidt

PRODUCTION DESIGN

Alexandra Sanchez Maldonado

ChaVon Shade

Delena Teklay

Gabrielly Nolasco

Maddie Monteleone

Samantha Rubin

Valery Orellana

PODCAST

Alex Johnson

ChaVon Shade

Mary Thomas Watkins

Will Kleinschmidt

SPECIAL THANKS TO

Advisor- Dana McMahan

Chris Kirkman

Kasanna Veth

Lily Hawkins

Monsoon

St. Anthony Hall

Julian’s

Rumors Chapel Hill

Uniquities

MEJO 490- Editorial

MEJO 572- Art Direction

COVERS BY

Front- Erica Boey

Back- Juliette Dias

08 LETTERS FROM THE EICS

10 MODEL CATALOGUE

TERRIBLY TOASTED

70 (ACCIDENTAL) RENAISSANCE

80 COMING OF AGE... BEGRUDGINGLY

82 RED PILLED & BLUE’D OUT

90 HOW TO BE A FAN (DON’T)

92 MARRAKECH BLUES

100 SHOW OR SHAM

102 A “FANTASTIC VOYAGE” OF RECOGNIZING IDENTITY

104 SASHAYING IN THE SHADOWS

112 LOCALIZED SUSTAINABILITY

113 WILL SOMEONE PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY?

114 KIARA MEL: THE JOURNEY TO MISS GAY NORTH CAROLINA

116 ANCORA RED WITH PASSION

Lettersfrom

Written by Joey Marmaud | Photographed by Ira Wilder

I’ve spent ample word count in past editor’s letters lauding those around me from whom I’ve gleaned inspiration and support, and while I hope those individuals understand my gratitude tacitly, I want to use this issue’s letter to specifically honor the “arbiters elegantiae” in my life, that single-digit smattering of people whose convictions have stood the test of time. I don’t talk to them every day, but I certainly think of them with that frequency. Coulture is very lucky to be unbridled by the transactional mores of today’s fashion economy; we get to be Horyns over Wintours, earnestly editorial. My ultimate goal for Coulture has always been to be a “succès d’estime” for the glitterati—the divas—in my own life. Not everyone is going to get it; not everyone has to.

The stirrings of Coulture: Legacy began while ambling through a similarly-named Helmut Newton retrospective at Palazzo Reale on the dregs of my Milan days of yore. Newton’s appeal was immediate, visceral and evergreen. My friend Tifenn, with whom I underwent many a Max Mara coat journey, said, “Why don’t they make magazines like

this anymore?!”

Remember that.

This ethos informed all of Legacy’s shoots in some way, be it the sedevacantist sophomores I’ve studied through furtive Instagrams or the prattlings of Pierre Bergé, who encountered situations not unlike so many in Carrboro. We often found ourselves stumbling across a reference in the zeitgeist as if portended by our Franklin Street coven, but in reality, we decided to narrate perennial moments with timeless currency, ideas that wouldn’t be so evergreen were there not something so infinitely compelling within their modes.

Such a mindset was informed by last year’s muse, Franca Sozzani, who imbued Vogue Italia with provocations far divorced from the sartorial preset. I wonder what spreads she would be curating in the public conscience had she been alive today when the industry seemingly needs her more than ever.

As many look to fashion as a respite, it feels increasingly irresponsible to peddle the dual reality we seem to be living in. And while fashion can titillate and distract for so many, it can also positively affect the narrative as one of the few languages — in addition to music and art — from which we can all claim to be polyglots.

It was by no accident that our eyes oscillated between the red pins dotting the lapels of the 2024 Oscars, calling for a ceasefire in the same way that the white power suit has become the de facto uniform for any female politician with something to say. The line between performance and sincerity is as fraught as the one between cultural appropriation and appreciation, yet, what’s remained blindingly clear is the need to reconsider our mass Western moral myopia in every space in our lives, including fashion.

Since Sozzani, we’ve been lucky to have the voices of those like Gabriella

Karefa-Johnson and Bella Hadid, who, despite all the consequences of speaking out for what is right, continue to do so stridently. Industry players such as them are fluent in the trickle-down semiotics of fashion on the world; it’s why donning the keffiyeh in post-9/11 America is a veritable challenge to our perception of Arabs, why indexing the tatreez is vital for the cultural survival of a community whose identity is subject to constant, targeted erasure. Fashion is just one language in the conversation we ought to elevate and celebrate.

I hope you enjoy Coulture: Legacy as much as we did making it and continue to reflect on the semiotics of the sartorial, how this moment is just one of decades-long conversations with infinite inflections to come. Those coming iterations are, after all, what make them interesting. Finally, I hope you consider how fashion can be a conduit — not a cop-out — for our identities, dreams and legacies.

theEditors

Written by Monique Gandy | Photographed by Ira Wilder

How is a lasting legacy created? Is it by creating avant-garde innovations like click-to-buy immersive fashion shows? Is it by pioneering sustainable mushroom leather in the luxury market? At first glance, attempting to create a legacy in a saturated landscape like the fashion industry can seem daunting. Coupled with concerns about artificial intelligence potentially replacing traditional craftsmanship, the barriers to entry into the fashion world can seem insurmountable. However, the fear of losing ingenuity and permanency sparks artistic visionaries like the members of Coulture Magazine to rise to the occasion.

At the beginning of the fall semester, Joey and I held our first general body meeting and told Coulture’s 200+ members that the magazine had no concrete theme. We realized that a more than 100page magazine could not be confined to a singular word that could potentially limit creativity. We decided if we had a theme, we wanted it to come naturally as a byproduct of our collective brainstorming and the current cultural, artistic and fashion arguments being made both on a

local and global scale. As people pitched their ideas ranging from pieces on Miss Gay North Carolina to the modern smoking aesthetic, Joey and I noticed an underlying theme throughout everyone’s pitches: legacy and how it’s constructed.

Coulture Issue 17: Legacy delves into the rich tapestry of fashion’s evolution, seamlessly weaving together historical narratives with the promising prospects of Coulture’s future. Everything from Sabato De Sarno’s current “step on Gucci” to iconic luxury fashion feuds like Karl Lagerfeld and Yves Saint Laurent work together to craft a cohesive narrative about how legacies are formed in such a unique industry. As you flip through each glossy page, we invite you to appreciate the authenticity behind every carefully crafted photo and article, reflecting on the compelling arguments about the cultural legacies of the past, present and future.

This edition touches on pivotal legacies in the fashion industry while simultaneously constructing our legacy as a magazine. We celebrate Coulture’s unwavering commitment to innovation and resourcefulness, leading fearless personal initiatives such as the first integration of AI in photoshoots, a Coulture nail technician, a dog model (shoutout Barry the golden retriever) and new collaborative ventures with other UNC-Chapel Hill magazines and local businesses. In addition to these powerful strides, the magazine exceeded itself through its level of resourcefulness. From using mannequins as table displays to making the Coker Arboretum resemble Marrakech, there were no bounds to our creativity and adaptability. Coulture was not constrained by a shoestring budget; we instead leveraged both existing and newly forged community connections to organize our revolutionary photoshoots.

As I conclude my undergraduate ca-

reer and tenure as editor-in-chief, I am flooded with nostalgia for the moments spent contemplating my impact on the magazine. From the first article I wrote as a style team member, to the magic I felt at the first photo shoot I went to as an associate style editor, I knew if I influenced even one person, I would be grateful for my time working for this magazine. Amidst the echoes of history and innovation within every publication of Coulture, I realized that legacy is often crafted in the quiet moments, beyond our conscious efforts. As we present you with a beautiful edition to peruse, I urge you to ponder not only Coulture’s legacy — but also your own. Standing at the intersection of tradition and the unknown, we confront the looming presence of unfamiliar technology and the heavy weight of the fashion industry. However, we remain steadfast in our commitment to nurturing the editorial ambitions of UNC students who love fashion, uniquity and beautiful things. I hope the staff of Coulture retains their ambitious and resourceful spirit, as each issue continues to connect our vibrant past with the limitless potential of the future as Coulture shapes the narrative of fashion editorial ahead.

MODEL CATALOGUE

Designed by Niha Kanumuri, Sanvi Korsapathy

BEAUTY

The Modern Smoking Aesthetic Terribly Toasted

Written by Savannah Gunter | Designed by Gigi Guffey | Photo Credit: Ira Wilder

Chandler Bing once called cigarettes “the thing that’s been missing from your hand.”

“OF COURSE, THE CIGARETTE IS MIND-BOGGLINGLY CARCINOGENIC, BUT A STRANGE RESURGENCE IS BACK TO CALLING IT COSMETIC.”

On the front porch of any college house party, you might find some students taking that notion to heart. Of course, the cigarette is mind-bogglingly carcinogenic, but a strange resurgence is back to calling it cosmetic. So why — knowing smoking to be a dangerous health risk — do some see the sinister stick as an accessory?

While plenty of 20-somethings spend precious minutes patting pockets in search of a vape, others languidly pull packs of cigarettes out of purses or coat pockets — some even tuck one behind an ear or into the rim of a hat.

Finesse and elegance: these are things the vape or e-cigarette — also tragically bad for your health — lack. The cigarette

requires a flame or a friend to ignite, making it, at times, a social activity or the spark of a Lana Del Rey type of romance. In her defense, instead of smoking, she saved the cigarette with his number on it.

Post-smoke, a cigarette can serve as a rebellious, musky tobacco fragrance. Even unlit, it can be dangled between one’s fingers to command Rita Hayworth caliber attention or between one’s lips as a metaphor. And who is at fault for the fame of this cigarette-smoking aesthetic? Certainly not the old Hollywood

gods and goddesses — they did not yet know of the cigarette’s adverse effects. The 1990s slim supermodels were simply perpetuating the party scene. Not a soul could blame Lana or Alex Turner for capitalizing off an internet and nicotine-addicted generation.

Likely, the glamorization of the cigarette can be traced to tobacco companies advertising “the pleasure to burn.” At its core, it seems the vintage vice represents in the modern day an innate recklessness and the disposable nature of life in an uncertain and harrowing world.

KINCARE SCAMS

WRITTEN BY OLIVIA DELA CRUZ | MODELED BY ABBY WHITTINGTON

DESIGNED

BY

CONNELLY MILLER, REECE TUGGLE, SOPHIA KATZ

We are in the age of not aging – or at least, not looking our age. Glance down any skin care aisle and you will find rows of young, happy women smiling at you, advertising an eye cream that will eliminate wrinkles or a serum for radiant and bouncy skin. Do we even know what bouncy skin is? Maybe not, but consumers know words like this equate to youth. The women marketing the products are either young – in which case they are doing the right thing by preventing signs of aging – or they are older but do not look it, in which case they are empowered to own their appearance. The result is one big, though veiled, message: you cannot look older.

“IN THIS FEAR, THE INDUSTRY HAS CREATED A LIFELONG CUSTOMER.”

Though the term “anti-aging” is now considered outdated by much of the skin care industry, the messaging has not changed. Promises of reverse aging products have been replaced with promises of glowing, blemish-free and youthful skin. What they do not say in product marketing is that the key ingredients in the products – things like hyaluronic acid and collagen boosters – only temporarily soften lines or skin spots. A Google Search proves most sources suggest beginning preventative Botox in your 20s, and you have to consider how you will prevent wrinkles around your eyes by the time you’re 25, which is the average target age for anti-aging products, according to Vox.

This is because the market is not selling a product, but, instead, the idea that aging makes a woman less – less beautiful, less desirable and less visible to society. Beauty products that claim to stop aging are creating a fear in consumers that they must do anything to appear youthful. In this fear, the industry has created a lifelong customer.

From some perspectives, it can be empowering to own your age and ap -

pearance. The increase in older women in beauty advertisements could be a shift towards embracing the physical changes that come with aging. However, when you take a closer look, these women are often praised for not looking their age. The woman over 50 in the skincare commercial, sporting stylishly gray hair, doesn’t have a single wrinkle on her face. The same goes for famous women who are heralded as “aging gracefully” like Jennifer Aniston and Salma Hayek. These women do not look their age, and that is why they are celebrated.

“EVEN THOUGH THE ANTI-AGING MARKET IS STRONGER THAN EVER, CONSUMERS ARE LOOKING FOR CHANGE.”

While some brands have begun to embrace a diversity of ages in their campaigns, the anti-aging and skincare industries have only feigned participation in this trend. Even though the anti-aging market is stronger than ever, consumers are looking for change. According to The Benchmarking Company, 81% of U.S. women want brands to use realistic women in product advertising. People want authentic representation in skincare marketing, yet brands have been resistant to change.

“I’M 21 AND I NEED EYE CREAM?”

The line between owning your appearance and enforcing the stigma around aging naturally is hard to find. Everyone should be empowered to make whatever decision they want about their body without limitations, but this does not change how harmful the anti-aging market can be. Are young people perpetuating ageism in themselves and others by getting preventative Botox in their 20s? And if they are, what can anyone do about it?

Awareness might be the only viable option. So, buy the eye cream and get the Botox. But know that aging cannot be permanently stopped or reversed and that the expensive skincare they are selling you can only do so much. Aging doesn’t have to be feared or celebrated, but accepting its normalcy will help women find peace in the future.

PHOTO CREDIT: FASHIONMASH EDITORIAL

Black Bodies

Written by Joelle Adeleke | Photographed by Xiaohua Wang

Over the summer, I cut my hair. Or, more specifically, I got my hair cut by a natural stylist. She said it was damaged.

I’ve worn my hair in braids most of my life. When I was little, I wore box braids. When I got to middle school, I tried crochet braids, which were faster to do but messed with my edges. During high school, I switched to knotless. Near the end of my high school career, I cut my hair and did wash-and-go’s. I did the same during the pandemic, when I could keep my camera off if I wanted to.

“SOMETIMES, TO GROW, YOU HAVE TO CUT OFF THE DAMAGED PARTS.“

Then I came to college. My hair had grown longer and I was worried about doing my hair in a communal bathroom. So, I got crochet braids my freshman year and short knotless braids my sophomore year, in the hopes I could have my hair braided without damaging it.

When I went to another stylist in the summer, it seemed I could not have my cake and eat it too.

Sometimes, to grow, you have to cut off the damaged parts.

From years of my hair being weighed down by braids, the best way for it to get healthier was to cut it so it could regrow evenly and healthier.

Why did I turn back to braids, over and over again? It was easier. It looked cleaner. It was prettier.

I thought I looked prettier in braids.

I already have a darker complexion, and I can’t help but feel that puts me at a disadvantage compared to the white people with pixie cuts, or even other

Black women with similar short hair but lighter skin and looser curls.

So I got my hair cut. I like it most of the time, but part of me wishes I hadn’t had to cut it at all.

Fareeda Akewusola is a Black woman and a sophomore at UNC-Chapel Hill. She lived in Nigeria for nine years, which influenced her views on colorism.

In high school, she was president of speech and debate. There, she gave several speeches on colorism.

Akewusola said that in Nigeria, she was closer to meeting the beauty standard. She had relaxed longer hair. The darkness of her skin didn’t come into play as much as her features did.

When she moved to a predominantly white area in Houston, Texas, she suddenly didn’t fit the beauty standard.

She explains that racism is typically confined between races, but colorism is different.

“COLORISM IS WITHIN THE COMMUNITIES, THE PEOPLE THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO BE THERE FOR YOU.“

“Colorism is within the communities, the people that are supposed to be there for you,” she said. “It feels like you’re further ostracized from that population.”

For her, she felt like she had to constantly prove her femininity. She would get her hair braided so it would be considered “good hair.” She didn’t know how to do makeup and still doesn’t, so she experimented with highlighter and lip

gloss. She felt like she had to do these things, especially if she wore natural hair.

When she began wrestling, she realized she could not be so opposed to having what others considered masculine traits. It was validating when she got good at wrestling, she said, because she knew she felt feminine.

“YOU ARE SHINING. YOU ARE YOU.“

“I was less worried about what everyone else was kind of saying or thinking because I kind of knew what I felt about myself, and realized that’s the only thing that really matters,” she said.

Makayla Dawson is a junior at UNC majoring in business administration.

Her first experience with colorism was in middle school when a girl told her that she would be prettier if she had lighter skin. She said she wasn’t hurt.

“I was like, ‘Oh, that’s not necessarily better. It’s just different and if anything, I like my differences,’” she said. Since so many people would go out of their way to tell her she was unattractive, it began to change her self-image, which made her feel unattractive in high school.

It is important to realize the critiques people make of you may have more to do with their biases than you.

To those struggling with the effects of colorism, she said, “You’re a combination of hundreds, if not thousands, of people’s faces. Don’t take that lightly.”

“You are here,” Dawson said. “You are shining. You are you. You have your lineage. You have your heritage. You have everything that’s tied to that. Wear your beauty proudly.”

Modeled by Alena Bradley | Styling by Alena Bradley, Munachukwumso Uyanwune

Production by FashionMash Editorial | Designed by Alena Bradley

Written by Lily Richardson

Designed by Caroline Stillwell

PFAS Are yourpoisoning makeup?

Makeup is intended to encourage us to feel beautiful and empowered. Unfortunately in this modern era, beauty could mean poison.

“AS WIDESPREAD AS THESE CHEMICALS ARE, THEY ARE STILL RELATIVELY NEW TO THE PUBLIC EYE AND ARE OFTEN DISREGARDED.”

Per- and poly-fluoroalkyl substances, also known as PFAS, are widely used chemicals and can be found in nonstick substances, water-resistant clothing, drinking water, foods and beauty products. With PFAS in so many of our products and resources, most Americans have already been exposed. Data from the National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey revealed that PFAS has been found in the blood of 97 percent

of Americans. However, as widespread as these chemicals are, they are still relatively new to the public eye and are often disregarded.

As new studies on PFAS are generated, people need to be aware of the health concerns associated with these dangerous chemicals. According to the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry, high levels of certain types of PFAS may lead to increased cholesterol, high blood pressure, differences in liver enzymes, and a higher risk of testicular and kidney cancer, among other conditions.

These chemicals have infiltrated the beauty and fashion industry, from clothing to skincare to makeup. In particular, a study from Green Science Policy Institute and several universities revealed that high levels of PFAS are typically found in liquid lipsticks, foundations, eyeshadows, waterproof mascaras, and many other long-lasting and waterproof beauty products.

So now comes the essential question: how do we know which beauty brands to use and which to avoid? Unfortunately, many brands do not list PFAS in the ingredients, so determining whether PFAS are present can be difficult. However, PFAS Central, a Green Science Policy project, has listed some beauty brands that are PFAS-free. A full list of these products can be found here:

PFASCENTRAL.ORG/PFAS-FREE-PRODUCTS/

Stillwell

Illustration by Caroline

STYLE

Modeled by Katherine King, Michaela Tse, Nathan Poesel, Olivia Sallis, Shania Mastan Designed by Anna Thomas

Photographed by Elizah Liberty Van Lokeren, Erica Boey, Juliette Dias

The artist-muse dynamic has fascinated cultures from Ancient Greece to the 2009 Met Gala. While the likes of Kate Moss and Mario Sorrenti come and go, the mystique of musehood—and the images created along the way—inspire indefinitely. See how Coulture models capitvated our cameras.

Monique Gandy, Samantha Rubin, Sophia Katz

Production by Alexandra Sanchez Maldonado, Joey Marmaud, Maddie Monteleone,

POWER DRESSING

Written by Henry Thomas, Ava Mayo | Production by FashionMash Editorial | Modeled by Luke Linkel, Zoe Durland | Photographed by Sarah Mcclatchey

In the late 20th century, a profound transformation echoed through the corridors of power led by the working women’s revolution. The dynamics of influence were no longer exclusive to masculine realms, as women carved their places in traditionally male-dominated spaces. The power of presence, once synonymous with masculinity, revealed its versatile potential, rejecting conventional constructs and championing equity in opportunity.

This seismic shift was epitomized in the iconic fashion choices of the era. As women entered male-dominated arenas, they adopted the symbolic armor of shoulder pads and pant suits, giving birth to a fashion movement that resonated far beyond the surface. Thus, power dressing became emblematic of the larger feminist manifesto which had gripped corporate America.

While women had long been admired as ornaments, the rise of female autonomy found expression in the popularization of power dressing. With women in the workplace, femininity was strategically reconfigured in its presentation. It became essential for women to amalgamate gender tropes, borrowing from powerful men while infusing distinct feminine flair. This deliberate fusion defined the boundary between accepted facets of power and characteristics redefined by ambitious and assertive women.

Dressing for success evolved from a mantra to a necessary tool for asserting validity in these powerful spaces. John T. Molloy, known for his insights into male work attire, extended his influence with the 1977 publication of “The Woman’s Dress for Success Book.” His “progressive” sequel introduced concepts like wardrobe engineering, emphasizing that

both men and women could embody assertiveness in competitive corporate environments.

Molloy’s popularity replaced gender-coded workforce attire guidelines with advice for aspiring career women to echo masculine dress elements. While women embraced sharp lines and audacious silhouettes projecting virility, they were careful not to replicate male styles. Designs always incorporated feminine elements, reinforcing gender distinctions and implying that styles emblematic of power were still emphatically male.

Thus, to be taken seriously, a woman needed a distinct and unmissable aesthetic, dominating every room she entered. The power-dress aesthetic emerged with saturated color palettes, bold contrasts and patterns that maximized presence. Vibrancy, noise and individualism became essential elements reinforcing the idea that a woman’s clothes were instrumental in her authority. Cultural figures like Princess Diana and fashion-forward labels such as Armani and Versace were pivotal in popularizing this unmistakable aesthetic.

Amid these evolving norms, women navigated a delicate balance between conforming to dress expectations and adapting to the demands of the workforce. The iconic imagery of the working woman symbolized empowerment but also enforced a prototype of the professional woman. This intentional power struggle between clothing and wearer underscored the necessity for a meticulous and sometimes outrageous facade of power, challenging predisposed projections of women’s submissiveness.

In essence, the power-dress revolution of the late 20th century became a feminist manifesto, challenging gender norms and reshaping the narrative of women in the professional world. The power of a fit and fashionable woman raced against preconceived notions, asserting that, without a doubt, women were formidable contenders in a man’s world, and they knew how to dress the part.

This wave was in part furthered by the commercial success of cisgender artists that adopted it.

Androgyny, and in turn power dressing, also permeated the male pop scene as artists like Michael Jackson and

Prince saw mainstream commercial success for their inherent eccentricity often as it related to femininity.

In the context of these artists’ craft, power dressing was often reappropriated as a way to evoke a conventionally feminine aesthetic while maintaining masculine power in the public eye.

Previously, menswear and its angular silhouetting was often a product of male utilitarianism and consequently a signifier of severity, seriousness and power. Jackson and Prince were pioneers of finding power in the inherent protest that is gender play gender blind dressing.

“WITH WOMEN IN THE WORKPLACE, FEMININITY WAS STRATEGICALLY RECONFIGURED IN ITS PRESENTATION.”

It was also a way to rehome the commodity of the feminine, its connection with the aesthetic and their inherent sexualization. Women in positions of leadership and dominance often faced the reality of being labeled unattractive and unsexy. Power dressing was a way to subvert the emphasis on delicate femininity and its commodification.

On male artists, the connotation was often flipped. Androgynous dress coupled an enigmatic and eccentric public influence with intense sensuality. Prince harnessed the gray area of gender blind dressing in a way comparable to the present rise in popularity of artists like Harry Styles and Ross Lynch. Androgyny in the ‘80s was celebrated in an unprecedented way and is seeing a comparable resurgence today in major media.

The 2020s also compare to the ‘80s in the way that our political discourse is evolving along with our fashion. Both ballroom and drag had surges of influence in both eras, more specifically in times of national anti-LGBTQ+ protest.

This played a huge role in the success and intense scrutiny of straight male artists such as Prince and presently Harry Styles. Both reflect aesthetics specific to the growth in nightlife and gender bending culture of the times.

Their iconic style of dress also brought up some questions in menswear that hadn’t previously been explored. What would it mean to dress to accentuate the male silhouette? What does the male aesthetic eye look like? And are these things feminine by nature or because of their association with womenswear?

In this way one can question whether or not menswear actually adheres to an aesthetic, or rather a lack thereof. The commodinary; vintage and cross-generational motif; and fashion scenes from around the world.

However, these major trends have had an interesting impact in retail. While womenswear often incorporates menswear and power dressing into their fashion lines, male retail clothing continues to be very utilitarian-based, with a limit to color and silhouette.

This is unquestionably due to the industry’s consciousness of what will sell in a clientele-focused market. Where womenswear is continuously diversifying and becoming more explorative, menswear maintains its signature non-aesthetic.

Additionally, though the pendulum has swung back in the direction of favoring androgyny in popular fashion and concepts of gender blindness continue to rear their head, these ideas continue to fall far from mainstream consideration.

Though it’s difficult to extricate the idea of gender play without inherent protest, in many ways their present forms are appropriated without inspired or well researched thought. Though in many ways the presence of androgyny opens up a conversation about the construct, the appropriation enables an erasure of a style of dress associated with personal liberation and civil rights.

Whether it manifests in the form of feminine people wearing a rectangular business silhouette evocative to the very power structures they are victimized under or the integration of power dressing to tap into stifled male expression, androgyny is a protest.

Less is more. Less is more, except for when your butt is hanging out on international television and you don’t have a say in the matter. Less is more, except for when you’re 13 years old and struggling to fit a pad under a leotard because you’re not allowed to wear shorts. Less is more, except for when you’re competing in clothes that hardly cover you and can only think of how exposed you feel, but no one will let you change.

“LESS IS MORE, EXCEPT FOR WHEN YOU’RE COMPETING IN CLOTHES THAT HARDLY COVER YOU AND CAN ONLY THINK OF HOW EXPOSED YOU FEEL, BUT NO ONE WILL LET YOU CHANGE.”

Honestly, less is more of what you see when you search “women’s athletic uniforms” and browse the images tab. Nearly every result shows typical beach volleyball, gymnastics or track uniforms that exemplify how little these athletes are required to wear. Some results link to articles describing how athletes have defied these standards by ditching the bikini cut in favor of shorts or full-length pants.

On the other hand, searching “men’s athletic uniforms” yields pictures that

link to websites offering custom-made uniforms. In fact, before the first image that shows men in revealing uniforms –a men’s swim team in Speedos, that is–, you must scroll past six images of women, all linking to articles discussing the overly sexualized nature of women’s sports.

Undeniably, women who are expected to compete at the highest level of their sport often must do so in clothing that can be uncomfortable, impractical and objectifying. This is even clearer when compared to what men are required to wear in the same sport.

Lately, a trend has emerged: women’s teams are pushing back against the status quo at some of the world’s top sporting events. The German women’s gymnastics team competed in the 2020 Tokyo Olympics wearing unitards, which cover the entire leg, rather than the traditional bikini-cut leotard. Similarly, the Norwegian women’s beach handball team opted for spandex shorts instead of the typical bikini bottom during the 2021 European Championships. They were fined $1,760 for this act of defiance.

If a team can be fined $1,760 for wearing a few extra inches of skin-tight fabric around their hips, something must change. This is an issue deeply rooted in sexism and misogyny. It shows how society devalues these athletes and their abilities by putting the focus on their appearances rather than their athleticism. This is made especially clear when looking at the standard men’s uniform for beach handball: a loosefitting tank top and shorts that end just above the knee.

Fortunately, after facing enormous backlash from fans and members of the handball community, the International Handball Federation changed the rules to state that rather than bikini bottoms, “female athletes must wear short, tight pants with a close fit,” and that it will allow for tank tops to take the place of the traditional sports bra.

For 15 years, I was a competitive gymnast, and I have felt these

pressures firsthand. When I reflect on my experiences, I realize that what I felt most comfortable practicing and competing in was always evolving. When I was young, I had no issues wearing just a leotard. But, as I got older and became more aware of my body and its changes, I dreaded every second that I spent in just a leotard. Thankfully, at that time, I belonged to a gym that allowed me to wear shorts during practice. Not everyone is offered the same luxury. As I matured further, I found myself again feeling more confident without shorts on. I felt stronger, I liked how my body looked, and I felt I performed better when I chose to wear what made me feel best.

Written and Modeled by Taylor Maffeo / Designed by Emma Kate Eyssen

by FashionMash Editorial

Written by Vishal Varadarajan, Zuhaa Asrar

Photographed by Annika Duneja, Ira Wilder, Kush Shah, Olivia Paul | Designed by Kiki Kozak

The year is 2014, and you are late for class. Yesterday’s smoky eye has left its shadow against your lids, your tights are pinstriped with runs and Sky Ferreira’s synth-pop anthem “Everything is Embarrassing” spills from the Apple EarPods looped around your neck. There you are, existing amidst the blur of the 2010s, a decade punctuated by the rise of hipster culture and the revival of the guitar through the sleazy, electronic bass of indie rock. It is an era dominated by the charisma of budding internet subcultures and Tumblr text posts; for those left to bask in the last light of adolescence, it is the dawn of a new type of campus culture. College, campus and culture. These are words synonymous with revival, rebirth and a reclamation of the self. Cam-

pus was a haven built on reinvention, independent of the ills of reality. But what really constitutes campus culture anyway?

Academia, after all, was traditionally only reserved for a select few. Women were only offered the right to a college education 200 years after Massachusetts

exclusivity of education and social benefit in the world of academia is a testament to systemic white supremacy that has long dominated its landscape.

“VAMPIRE WEEKEND BECAME KNOWN FOR ITS UNCONVENTIONAL SOUND COUNTERED BY ITS ALL-TOOCONVENTIONAL APPEARANCE.”

established the first private university, Harvard College. Nearly a century later, in 1952, only 2% of Black Americans aged 18-24 were reported to be enrolled in college, compared to 17% of white students within the same age group. The historic

This exclusivity has fostered a subculture of its own, one that has thrived against the backdrop of academia: prep. WASPs, or white Anglo-Saxon Protestants, are the Northeastern emblems of old money — the harbingers of social strata and hierarchy steeped in white supremacy and enrobed in the style of prep. From WASP culture stems presidency, power and political prowess.

Universities such as Yale and Columbia — breeding grounds for prep and assimilation into white elite culture nowadays — are reflections of this. The campuses of these institutions thrum with students sporting Polos, khakis, salmon shorts, boat shoes

and cable-knit sweaters. They wear the emblems of wealth, whiteness and, of course, WASPiness, with pride.

The fabrics of these WASPy essentials, however, have origins far beyond the shores of America. These materials find their roots in India, a nation that continues to bear the scars of British colonialism nearly a century after independence. India is one of the world’s leading producers of textiles and apparel, boasting an impressive history that underscores its dominance in the industry. Renowned as the second-largest producer of silk globally, India also contributes to a staggering 95 percent of the world’s hand-woven fabric production.

The nation’s reputation for textile quality, however, is nothing new, with trade between India and European nations extending as far back as the 16th century. The enduring impact of these cross-national connections is clear in the number of words with origins in Indian languages that have become commonplace within global fashion and apparel industries: calico, pajama, gingham, khaki and dungaree just to name a few.

Khaki, notably, has a rather fraught history. The word khaki, derived from the Persian word “khâk” for soil, refers to a warm-toned beige color rather than the particular cut of trousers or fabric it is associated with today. First worn in 1946 by the British Indian Army’s Corps of Guides, a unit of Indian citizens coerced to serve the British cause, khaki referred to the tea- and dirtstained cotton used by troops to camouflage themselves from enemy sight. With time, the British recognized the utility of

this lightweight fabric and transformed khaki-dyed lightweight cotton into the regimented uniform. This phenomenon soon extended to other colonial powers, with Americans donning khaki for the first time in Cuba and the Philippines during the Spanish-American War in 1898.

Following World War II, excess khaki twill from the war effort flooded the market, leading to its adoption in civilian

“seersucker,” used to refer to a thin, puckered cotton fabric made for hot weather, comes from Hindi and Persian. The Madras prints that decorate several renowned preppy ties come from their namesake city of Chennai (referred to as Madras by the British), India. American preppy clothing is the product of colonialism made mainstream.

But how did WASP culture emerge in broader American society? In the late 1800s, the establishment of the Sons of Revolution marked the onset of an obsession with Anglo-Saxon ancestry. Among the bastions of WASP power was foreign policy in which the United States proclaimed itself at the top of social hierarchy and the rest of the world’s nations somewhere far beneath. This geopolitical architecture was reinforced by the Council on Foreign Relations, a group of politicians with America’s interests in mind and an unabashed belief in the country’s sacred destiny.

clothing. The khaki’s more prominent profile and muted hue made it a huge hit on college campuses nationwide. With time, conversations surrounding khaki changed, with the 1960s witnessing the emergence of a slimmed-down khaki, or chino, geared toward a youth market hungry for new colors and fits. Blazers, another prep staple, are the product of the British naval uniform. The word

In 1964, the term WASP was popularized by sociologist and critic E. Digby Baltzell. Baltzell, a member of the white American elite, argued in his literary works that not admitting “worthy” men from different ethnicities and religions who were still white-passing would result in the implosion of the WASP community altogether. By advocating for the WASPs’ expansion to reflect the ethnic makeup of the entire American upper class, Baltzell played an integral role in refining the attitudes, conventions and aesthetics that we now label preppy.

During the 2010s came the dawn of a new form of prep. Bands like Vampire Weekend, titled the “J. Crew of indie

Modeled by Anshu Shah, Haziq Valliani, Jayanth Komarraju, Niharika Ghoshal, Praveen Puviindran, Prithvi Adiga, Sai Kaza

rock” by The Michigan Daily, sought to subvert the existing norms of what was fashionable about academia. Vampire Weekend is a four-member band, with frontman Ezra Koenig, that met at Columbia University in New York City. Coming from an Ivy League school, there was an assumed preppiness surrounding the group. Koenig, however, was intrigued by prep and its implications.

“We were interested in things that were preppy in an emotional, visceral, and intellectual way,” Koenig said in an interview with Uncut Magazine. “It’s not who we were, but it’s something we were fascinated with.”

Vampire Weekend became known for its unconventional sound countered by its all-too-conventional appearance, one

in which band members were decked out in WASPy numbers, the very culture they sought to undermine. This juxtaposition was furthered by the elements of satire, critique and social commentary in the band’s envelope-pushing lyrics on songs such as “Oxford Comma” and “Campus,” which poke fun at the elite.

As South Asians on UNC-Chapel Hill’s campus, we too are living through a small renaissance of our own. There exists an opportunity for rebirth, for reclamation at every corner. Consequently, there too exists the responsibility of reckoning with different forms of white supremacy and political ideology that run against the grain of South Asian existence and expression. Our very existence is political, the product of families who have overcome British rule, sought in-

dependence and sowed the seeds of our futures with promise. By dressing South Asian models in the fabrics tied to our homeland, we reclaim a complex history of cultural theft and detachment. We can transform a culture of performed propriety into one that celebrates authenticity and that embraces histories with a newfound fervor for reclamation.

And so, we trade eyeliner for “kajal,” Tiffany for “jhumke” and David Yurman Classic Cables for our mother’s “chudiyaan.” We don them with melodrama, with grace, with the kind of resilience afforded to us by years of colonial power eclipsed by the voices of our forefathers, of those who came long before us, of those who fought. The year may be 2014, but our histories remain timeless, our bloodlines everlasting.

Styled by Loulie Olson, Elizabeth Comer, Gigi Guffey, Zuhaa Asrar

Sabato De Sarno’s STEPon

Bangladesh green, rufous red and light gold — these three signature colors represent the first steps made by the brand’s founder, Guccio Gucci. What followed after was Aldo Gucci’s bamboo bag, Dawn Mello’s revival of the bamboo bag, Tom Ford’s era, Frida Giannini’s Flora collection, Alessandro Michele’s rebranding of Gucci and, now, Sabato De Sarno’s. Each creative director was brought to Gucci with the sole mission to increase sales. Sabato De Sarno was brought to restore the Italian in Gucci.

On Sept. 22, 2023, the Gucci Spring 2024 Ready-To-Wear show took place at Gucci’s headquarters in Milan. With Anna Wintour, Julia Roberts and Ryan Gosling in attendance, the Gucci spring 2024 was one hell of a debut for De Sarno. Alessandro Michele, the former creative director, practically birthed the current image of Gucci — unique, aberrant and idiosyncratic. Michele’s work had gained a rather big fanbase and loyal consumers. His departure left fans in shock. After Michele’s devastating separation from the brand, everyone’s eyes were on De Sarno and his future with Gucci.

De Sarno, a Naples native, began his fashion career in 2005 at Prada after graduating from Milan’s Istituto Secoli. From 2005 to 2009, he worked for Dolce & Gabbana, making marks with his designs. In 2009, he started his journey with Valentino as the men’s and women’s collections director. Although

his history remains obscure, his work cannot be underestimated. He is undeniably Pierpaolo Piccioli’s righthand man with his visible influence on the general aesthetic shift in Piccioli’s Valentino. Piccioli conveyed his gratitude and wishes with a huge going-away party for De Sarno with everyone wearing “I <3 SdS” on their shirts.

Ancora is the name of his first Gucci show, foreshadowing his mission for the brand. In Italian, Ancora means “again” in the sense of wanting more — not just wanting. Through this, De Sarno wished for people to view the brand as irresistibly desirable. Ancora is portrayed in a variety of mediums — the clothing, runway and music all speaking in unison to this concept.

At the show, a deep, futuristic beat set the atmosphere while the light shined on a black, rectangular runway. The opener began the show with a minimalist fit — a charcoal gray, peak lapel coat; a sheer, white tank; black shorts; a burgundy shoulder bag; a thick gold chain; and wine-red platforms. Shades of ivory, black, baby pink, olive green, Gucci rosso, gray, lime green, brown and blue make their way into the wardrobe. Nothing was flashy, tacky or out of fashion. Rather, it was elegant, sleek and modern — appearing to redefine the modern recognition of Gucci.

The public notes the similarities between De Sarno’s work and Tom Ford’s. The Ford Gucci era was one of the “it” moments of fashion; however, there are

GUCCI

WILL IT LEAVE A FOOTPRINT OR WILL THE RAIN WASH IT AWAY?

many comments on how De Sarno’s designs look more common than Ford’s at Gucci. Whether those comments are statements of its relative trendiness or non-designer-like clothing, the media has shown a high enthusiasm for the

Before his debut, Nicole Phelps from Vogue explained De Sarno’s future dealings with Gucci in Vogue Business. His team comprises Remo Macco, the studio design director, and Riccardo Zanola, the artistic director. Macco is a veteran at Gucci while Zanola worked with De Sarno at Valentino. He and his team were able to change the image of Gucci with just one show; now, the media is seeing the impact. Marco Bizzarri, the former CEO, had brought De Sarno on board to rebrand Gucci to

Vanessa Friedman from The New York Times views De Sarno’s work as a much-needed change for Gucci. Despite a huge population falling for Michele’s eccentric work, The New York Times described the rebrand as minimal and a breeze of change. Instead of minimizing the use of digital devices, he selected to incorporate technology into the brand. De Sarno is aiming to fix Gucci, project by project, raising the expectations and interests of Gucci’s place in the fashion industry. The media and consumers

alike have their eyes on the brand.

De Sarno’s influence on Gucci extends beyond the spring 2024 show. On Aug. 5, De Sarno brought back Daria Werbowy, a retired Canadian-Ukrainian model, in a jewelry campaign — creating an internet moment. After leaving the fashion business in 2016, Werbowy was still considered a top model and muse. A topless Werbowy showcased the Marina Chain jewelry collection of a bracelet, necklace and earrings in a tropical setting. Her presence after going private, seven years ago, produced a frenzy on the internet.

“IN ITALIAN, ANCORA MEANS ‘AGAIN’ IN THE SENSE OF WANTING MORE — NOT JUST WANTING.”

From Oct. 11 to the end of the year, the Gucci Cosmos exhibition will be open to the city of London. The exhibition displays the designs of 102-year-old Gucci history, bringing back the times

when Guccio Gucci was a porter at the Savoy Hotel in London. The show has moved from Shanghai to London. After London, the display will tour Paris and Kyoto — each city portraying various cultures and narratives. The London exhibition will display two new rooms influenced by De Sarno. Es Devlin, a contemporary artist, and Maria Luisa Frisa, a curator, have been able to collaborate with De Sarno to bring the designs and history back to life into one impressive exhibition. The elevator begins from Guccio Gucci and ends with De Sarno’s designs for the spring 2024 show. This show aims to pay homage to Gucci’s beginnings while sparking a new chapter of the brand.

De Sarno has much to do to fulfill his dreams and impress the critics. Although rebranding is in the works and the once-loved Michele’s Gucci is long gone, many people are awaiting De Sarno’s next move. It seems that he is going in the direction of classic Italian fashion. Perhaps, De Sarno will have an era like Tom Ford’s or Guccio Gucci’s. The Naples native flipped the coin on the image of Gucci, shocking and awing the world. Gucci’s large audience awaits to see if Gucci will return and conquer, once again.

WRITTEN BY ELIZABETH NAM | DESIGNED BY JULIANA AIKEN

HELLSBelles

Written by Ava Mayo Illustration from NY Public Library Digital Collection

The Belle is a trope pervasive in the collective consciousness of the South as she represents a shared ideal which cannot simply be taught. The Belle is a character: as if penned by a chauvinistic hand, she accentuates ideals of innocence and purity as a prerequisite to matrimony and maternity. She is a romanticization of outdated ideals which persists throughout our history and in our 21st century consciousness through the pageantry and

performance she elicits.

Belles began as sisters, wives and daughters of the Confederacy, propelled by a guise of patriotism and preservation of the domestic front: a mission riddled with racist ideals of conserving whiteness preserving “pure” manifestations of the South.

“THE ‘SOUTHERN BELLE’ WAS ONCE A NARRATIVE DEVICE DEEMED NECESSARY TO ENFORCE GENDER EXPECTATIONS FROM THE EARLIEST HIERARCHICAL ORDERS IN THE AMERICAN SOUTH.”

Southern glorification of the Belle is what has come to inextricably tie her to the landscape. In the wake of the civil war, this mission was illustrated by flowery depictions of the Belle contrasted against degrading statements made by those disgraced by Southern society.

In the infamous “Silent Sam” statue’s dedication speech “Unveiling of Confederate Monument at University” delivered by Julian Shakespeare Carr, the allusion-ridden testament to the Southern woman in the wake of a lost war exemplifies the mythos of the Belle.

Carr writes, “She has made of the sturdy manhood of the South the highest product which a Christian race has yet attained.” As Carr continued in tangent to illustrate his concern for the “Anglo-Saxon” race by epitomizing the horrific underbelly of his dedication.

Carr proudly depicts how he “horse-

whipped” a Black Woman, acting upon an accusation that “she had publicly insulted and maligned a Southern lady.” In his shameless words, modern audiences can glimpse into just how horrifically detached the romanticized view of Southern womanhood originated: by brutalizing and minimizing the adjacent experiences of Black Southern women.

By defacing the memory and history of one experience of womanhood, the other was embellished and romanticized. Still, this is how we remember these Southern Belles. Not for their discretions, but for the poetics and performances which encapsulated their memory. Only against the harsh contrast of women discarded and berated was the Belle given accreditations of strength and admiration.

We like to consider the modern Southern realm far detached from this era, but from debutante balls where young girls don white gowns to showcase their matrimonial potential, to Old South Balls, a fraternal tradition of Kappa Alpha where the confederate garb construes a perverse celebration of the Confederacy; the aesthetics of the Old South today often distract from the root of its conception and the problematic nature through performative traditions.

Belle’s place on the Southern consciousness is to draw the harsh line between the insider, or those who were born to subscribe to an ideal, against those who would never amount. Moral ideals such as purity are showcased through debutante balls and cotillions where strict codes of dress and etiquette are displayed as a matter of performance for young girls to fine-tune elements of their budding womanhood.

In the eye of any Southern lady, deciding how one may present themselves, how a young woman was meant to be interpreted and accepted within a fundamentally exclusionary society, was a matter of pressing importance.

The nature of performance she persists has undoubtedly found new mediums to live through in the South. This is exemplified in the Southern art of beauty pageantry, where worth weighs on hyper-feminine appearances and airs of sickly sweet decorum which superficially translate the worth of a woman to an audience.

In the grand tapestry of Southern culture, performance becomes a nuanced reflection of identity and acceptance. Drag considers constructs of femininity such as the Belle as a source of inspiration in its parody. By mirroring Southern tradition of female performance, specifically in the form of beauty pageants, the art reclaims ideals of womanhood in their reappropriation.

For North Carolina Native and Drag Pageant Queen, Triston Chagolla, reappropriating the very Southern medium of performance gave his female persona, Kiara Mel a platform to celebrate rather than chastise womanhood.

“THESE BELLES SERVE AS FLORAL EMBLEMS OF THE SOUTH’S ASPIRATIONS AND INSECURITIES, NAVIGATING THE DELICATE BALANCE BETWEEN PRESERVATION AND PROGRESSION.”

“Drag is my love letter to all women, but especially black and brown women,” he said “Those are the type of women that made me the man who I am today, my mother, my aunt, my grandmother, my Sunday school teachers, my school teachers, our bus drivers, my lunch ladies…these were the women that always had to open their arms open to me.”

Considering the South as a stronghold of tradition and a hearth of religious values, Tragolla explains that it is common amongst many Southern queens to identify traditional beacons of performance

as early sources of inspiration for drag.

“THE BELLE MYTHOS IS WHAT IMMORTALIZES HER...”

“I feel like a lot of us grew up in church. And I think one thing as queer people, what we loved about churches is the theatricality of the Church and the community that it brings,” he said.

As Kiara Mel, Triston Chagolla attained national acclaim following a victory at the Miss Gay North Carolina America Pageant: epitomizing a modern resilience in Southern identity. Hailing from humble beginnings in the Lumbee Tribe of Robeson County, North Carolina, Chagolla’s journey into performance was fueled by a fervent passion for performance repressed by an upbringing captive to tradition and propriety.

Upon moving to Raleigh, Tragolla developed a newfound sense of liberation. Navigating the disparities of identity fostered from youth, Chagolla found solace in the art of drag, an outlet which invites all who dare to confront and reimagine the barriers of tradition.

As Southern drag continues to evolve, it serves as a beacon of resilience, redefining Southern femininity with grace and charm while challenging the confines of a traditionally oppressive narrative. In the embrace of tradition lies the opportunity for reinvention, a testament to the enduring spirit of the South and its capacity for transformation.

THE NEW FRONTIER Artificial Identity

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow --

You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand — How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep — while I weep!

O God! Can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

Modeled by Audrey Lin, Emilie Allen, Gauthami Manepalli, Lauryn Lovett, Makayla Santos

Photographed by Caroline Mara, Kush Shah, Sonia Zhu

Styled by Loulie Olson, Elizabeth Comer, Gigi Guffey

Designed by Joey Marmaud, Monique Gandy, Thomas Moody-Jones COULTURE MAGAZINE •

WELLNESS

Self-Love

Written by Stella Griffin | Designed by Connelly Miller

Shlump Shlump Shlump

I“I

nternal thoughts of a girl whose alarm went off at 8 a.m.:

“Should I work out today? It’s what I had planned.”

don’t know if I want to, and I should be gentle with myself.”

“Okay, maybe instead I can get that research paper started.”

“I THINK I’LL JUST TREAT MYSELF TO 30 MINUTES OF NETFLIX.”

“I

think I’ll just treat myself to 30 minutes of Netflix.”

“A healthy breakfast?”

“Well — I feel like I deserve Starbucks for waking up this early.”

If you’re anything like me, these are the thoughts that plague your brain every morning. They are sharply contrasted, and the decision following each one heavily affects the rest of your day.

Using social media, you likely see selflove inspiration, quotes and other content floating across your feed on a daily basis. My guess is that this likelihood is multiplied greatly if you are a young woman. I’ve started to think of self-love as we know it today as a sort of “self-love slump.” I love myself in all the ways that keep me from doing what I actually need to do.

When you think logically, it makes sense that self-love is a prominent factor in our lives and thought processes. We are recently out of a global pandemic where technology was our primary source of entertainment and communication. What else could we do inside of our homes except conveniently discover more and more ways to be “well?”

The wellness industry knew this and knows it still rings true today. A culture ingrained with aesthetics, imagery, and wellness is also one that creates profit for a select few entrepreneurs. Google anything similar to “Wellness industry boom and COVID-19” to see the evidence. Searches on Pinterest for “Self-Love” and “Manifestation” increased during the pandemic, according to a 2021 Forbes article. We wanted to find ways to love ourselves and stay busy in extreme isolation, and wellness brands profited. Phrases like “treating yourself” or “self-care night” were not as common in our vocabulary before 2020.

Three years out, wellness and self-love have become a habit — ingrained in our internal dialogue, actions and perceptions. It has also changed in meaning: now a night out or a night spent without doing a full skincare routine or without a special snack is atypical for many. This new era of gentleness with ourselves appears to be a force of good, but is it keeping us from reaching our full potential?

It seems as though we oftentimes use self-love as a guise to keep us from doing hard things that would be good for us in the long term. It is almost as though

many have forgotten that a hard week at work can mean a successful career later on. Similarly, a month of working out can lead to health and wellness benefits otherwise unreachable, not to mention new confidence.

So how do we balance this? How do we pull self-discipline in, mix it with our self-love, and make this perfect concoction of a well-balanced life?

“I LOVE MYSELF IN ALL THE WAYS THAT KEEP ME FROM DOING WHAT I ACTUALLY NEED TO DO.”

To answer these pressing questions, I reached out to an expert in the field, Dr. Faye Begeti. Begeti is a practicing neurologist and neuroscientist who obtained her medical degree and doctorate from the University of Cambridge. She has an Instagram audience of over 100,000 and is the author of “The Phone Fix: The Brain-Focused Guide to Building Healthy Digital Habits and Breaking Bad Ones,” which was released in February 2024.

Begeti

said self-discipline and self-love

Photo Credit: Unsplash

aren’t so different. In fact, they can be one and the same.

“It is best to think about it as shortterm vs long-term actions,” she said. This is because you can do things out of self-love that are short-term – such as watching the latest TV show - or things that have a long-term benefit – such as choosing to exercise because you want to remain healthy.”

“GET TO WORK, AND BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF.”

Neither long-term nor short-term self-love are the enemy, Begeti assured. Sweet treats or watching a show do not have to be inherently negative when they are balanced with long-term self-love that ensures you will reach your goals. Begeti said that throughout college and her novel-writing processes, she used two techniques to build discipline: “The five-minute rule” and “Plan B.”

The five-minute rule is for when you don’t feel like starting something at all. Tell yourself you will start in five minutes. Set a timer, and when the five minutes are up, it is time to start. Begeti said setting the timer and assuring yourself you will do the work overcomes the mental barrier most struggle with, so you should feel ready to start your task. If you still feel wholly opposed after the five minutes, this may be a sign you are truly not in the headspace to complete your task.

The Plan B method is for when the task at hand seems too hard, or virtually impossible, for the day. You can simply do a toned-down version of said task. An example of this would be to walk or stretch as an alternative to doing a high-intensity workout, or to do the easiest assignment first when you know you need to do something productive before the day ends. While this may feel like an easy way out, Begeti said this is not the case. Instead, she said, it provides an alternative to “doing nothing or essentially reverting to ‘Plan Zero’ (which is usually scrolling or binge-watching).”

She said choosing a toned-down ver-

sion of your task creates a strong balance of “self-love, part of which is respecting how you feel, and building the discipline needed to achieve your original intentions.”

These techniques are not a fix-all, Begeti said.

She noted that media consumption also plays a large part in not only our perception of self-love, but also in our motivation.

“It is important to make sure that the people creating this content are appropriately qualified, as any content that you consume will be rewiring your brain via neuroplasticity — this is the process of building connections between the neurons in our brain,” she said.

Consuming media that is not only fact-checked, but also mirrors your goals, can have a greater influence on one than they might believe.

Think back to making vision boards cut from magazines in your childhood bedroom circa 2015 — same concept. We have always understood that what we consume shapes us, but with the pervasiveness of social media today, sometimes we forget.

Ultimately, there is no set happy-medium between self-love and self-discipline, and your consumption of media is only as strong as your intrinsic motivation. You must want to succeed and make progress, and you must have love for yourself that stems past short-term rewards.

So consider how you can love yourself best — How do you want to improve long term? What steps can you take in that direction? What are some forms of self-love you have seen via marketing campaigns or social media that are holding you back?

Get to work, and be honest with yourself.

You too, can survive the self-love shlump.

DERBY DERBY DYSFUNCTION DYSFUNCTION

Photographed by Alzahraa Al Bayati, Calli Westra, Olivia Paul, Sophie Hughett | Designed by Kiki Kozak

It’s a fascinator frenzy! Join our Coulture models on their quest for perfection as they ready themselves for a different kind of derby.

Styled by Maile Maldonado, Elizabeth Comer, Caroline Mara, Henry Thomas

Modeled by Connelly Miller, Izzy Richie, Jill Tora, Reece Tuggle, Savannah Gunter, Sophie Pinkston

DidYouCome?

Written by Henley Younts | Designed by Elshaddai Daniel

Allow me to set the scene for you. It’s freshman year, and you’re full of hope. Out in the world on your own, free to explore campus, parties and, most excitingly, boys.

One night, you brave a frat basement just long enough to fall into small talk with another bright-eyed freshman. Less than an hour later, you find yourself half-naked on navy sheets, one pillow in sight. The moment is heating up, and making out escalates to this lovely fellow you’ve decided to go home with doing a DJ impression on your clit. Five minutes later, he fucks you in missionary for another five minutes. Then he finishes. You do what you think you’re supposed to, copy-

“Did you come?” he asks, out of breath, half smiling.

“Uh. Yeah!” you answer because, well, you tried to make it seem like you did.

“THE TRUTH IS THAT WOMEN FAKE IT FOR A LOT OF REASONS.“

All jokes aside, research shows women finish less than their male counterparts. An article from The Conversation stated that 95% of heterosexual men said they usually or always orgasm when sexually intimate, while only 65% of heterosexual women said the same; this figure is deceivingly high. Of this 65%, only 4% finish from penetration. The other 96% need clitoral stimulation. And to make matters worse, only 10% of women finish from a first-time hookup. So don’t feel bad about not responding to that latenight “wyd” text!

We’ve all been there. Or maybe you haven’t. Maybe you picked up your hottie at a bar. Maybe you were 16 or maybe

25. Maybe this has happened to you one million times or never. Regardless of your situation, if you’re a woman, you’ve most likely acted out the exaggerated moans, legs shaking, name screaming and heavy breathing we know as “faking it.”

It’s a different story when women are alone or being intimate with other women. An article from Cosmopolitan found that 95% of women reach orgasm when masturbating easily and, oftentimes, quickly. Reuters found that lesbian and bisexual women finish 75% of the time when having sex with other women. A woman I interviewed said that when she hooks up with other women, there is a mutual understanding of the female body. It feels more like an experience shared between two people rather than a race to the finish line.

“SO, WE FAKE IT. BUT WHY?”

This is what is known as the orgasm gap, and it all comes down to a lack of understanding of women’s anatomy. Most men, and women for that matter, do not have a thorough knowledge of the ins and outs of women’s anatomy. A study by Forbes found that locating the clitoris isn’t actually the problem, but understanding the rest of the vulva is. “When asked to label a diagram of a vulva, 58% of people [men and women] couldn’t de-

scribe the function of the urethra, 47% didn’t know what the labia was and 52% didn’t know what the vagina was.”

Because of this lack of understanding, women’s orgasms are treated as biologically elusive and hard to come by. So, we fake it. But why?

“THE VALUE NEEDS TO BE EQUALLY DISTRIBUTED BECAUSE WE ALL DESERVE TO FINISH.“

The truth is that women fake it for a lot of reasons. There is a pressure to perform in bed that both parties are subject to. One woman I interviewed said it’s awkward when you don’t finish. Faking an orgasm can let the guy know you are enjoying it and that they are good in bed. This goes hand in hand with a fear of hurting the other person’s ego. In our current sexual framework, the guy is going to finish anyway, so women might as well fake it so he can pat himself on the back for a job well done.

Additionally, women fake it because they may not know what they need to finish. It’s clear that women’s anatomy is misunderstood, and this is often a result of poor sex education. Women are not taught to prioritize their sexual needs and, therefore, many have not had the opportunity to explore their own sexuality. If they do know what they need in bed, it is often hard to communicate these needs, especially in a first-time hookup.

Finally, the hard truth is a lot of women fake orgasms just so that shit can be over. If it’s clear the guy has no clue what he is doing down there, it just gets downright awkward. Even if he seems capable, some women may feel an orgasm takes more time than it’s worth. Another woman I interviewed said it can start feeling like a chore, and there’s guilt associated with the guy trying so hard. If you throw them a bone and fake it, then it’s over.

To be clear, I am not blaming women for faking orgasms, and I do not think men are to blame either. Contrary to the common narrative, research shows that men do care about women finishing. Yes, there are definitely men out there who couldn’t care less if they prioritize their partner in bed, but overwhelmingly, they do. They just might not know how. A major player in this is the media and the incredibly inaccurate picture it paints about women’s orgasms. In movies and shows, women always finish from penetration, porn strictly shows women finishing this way, and men’s magazines basically skip over clitoral stimulation entirely.

Additionally, the words “sex” and “intercourse” are used interchangeably. Anything that involves clitoral stimulation, the thing most women need to finish, is considered foreplay, the thing that comes before the main act: penetration. This puts penetration on a pedestal while negating the importance of what comes before it.

The bottom line is that women deserve to feel entitled to pleasure. Girls should be taught in sex education that sex is about pleasure for them too. Women need to feel free to explore their own bodies, find out what they need sexually and feel comfortable communicating that to their partners. And men need to be ready to hear that penetration is not going to do the trick every time. Because faking it, although a defense mechanism, is unfair to both parties.

Karley Sciortino from Vogue says, “Essentially, faking it is det-

rimental to womankind.

It’s also manipulative. In a way, faking it robs your partner of their sexual autonomy.” If a man faked it with me, I’d be horrified and probably embarrassed. So it’s time to reframe the sexual narrative which currently overvalues a man’s sexual needs and devalues a woman’s. The value needs to be equally distributed because we all deserve to finish.

Designed by Minh Anh Le, Monique Gandy

Photographed by Annika Duneja Elizah Liberty Van Lokeren, Sarita Lokesh

Modern women, akin to accidental poetry, channel the essence of the contemporary "Renaissance woman."

Drawing inspiration from the pop culture trend of “accidental Renaissance,” join Coulture models on the odyssey of evolving womanhood with all its curated spontaneity.

Modeled by Anna Jin, Ce’Niyah Ellison, Jaden Juarez, Fiona Hasanaj, Safa Tonuzi, Vivian Bunker

Styled by Maile Maldonado, Elizabeth Comer

ARTS

Coming of Age ... Begrudgingly?

The media we love is part of what defines us; it’s the posters on our walls, the playlists on our phones, the books lining our shelves. We look for parts of ourselves in the movies, TV, music and words we consume. Media plays an especially integral role in every young persons’ life as they become an adult; they’re forced to make sense of themselves, to reckon with the chaotic reality of being a human with free will. Coming-of-age is a simultaneous learning and unlearning of everything you thought you knew about yourself. It’s frustrating, confusing, uncomfortable, rewarding and at times absurd in its complexity. Media can help form some semblance of identity in an otherwise undefined time in one’s life. As the next generation of creators, directors, artists, singers and performers enter this era of their lives, their work becomes steeped in their experience discovering themselves.

Some lean heavily into the frustration and anger that surrounds coming-of-age, like Olivia Rodrigo in her sophomore album “GUTS” from 2023. “GUTS” represents Rodrigo’s entry into young adulthood and the inevitable messiness that belies it. Her last album, “Sour,” was underlaid with the naivety of high-school heartbreak — she’s sad but still hopeful. In “GUTS,” it’s clear Rodrigo has no illusions about the reality of the world. You can hear her anger in each track, her frustration with how she’s been treated as a young woman in both her romantic endeavors and in the spotlight. “I forgive and I forget/I know my place and I act like it,” she sings in “All-American Bitch,” but something tells me Rodrigo is not keen to forgive and forget. She’s been hit with the truth about what it’s like to identify as a woman in today’s society, and it’s not a kind one.

Other creators steer more towards capturing the sheer awkwardness of finding your footing in the world. Learning about yourself is a clumsy, heavy-hand-

ed process and mistakes teach you a lot more than successes. Emma Seligman’s second directorial release “Bottoms” from 2023 embodies this awkwardness through two unpopular high school girls who start a self-defense club in an attempt to woo two cheerleaders. Beneath the film’s quirky, unserious facade is a genuine exploration of all the feelings that come with being a queer kid in high school attempting to navigate sexuality and romance. Netflix’s “Sex Education” also does an excellent job of highlighting the spectrum of emotion and experiences that come with discovering sex as a young person with humor, poise and some of the best representation in television.

“COMING-OF-AGE IS A SIMULTANEOUS LEARNING AND UNLEARNING OF EVERYTHING YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW ABOUT YOURSELF.”

Some creators take the lessons they’ve learned and disseminate them out to us so that we may avoid the pain and heartache it took to learn them. Dolly Alderton does so in her book “Everything I’ve Learned About Love,” where she documents her perspectives on love and life from age 13 to 30. Alderton spares no details about the heartache, disappointments, grief and frustration of being in

your 20s, but also sprinkles moments throughout that remind us of the beauty of being alive. Tracy Clark-Flory’s book “Want Me” is a poignant memoir about her experiences with sex as a teenager, a mother, and sex writer — it’s eye-opening, funny and deeply resonant, especially for young women.

The media we consume can be simultaneously informative and comfortings; it’s a reminder of our shared humanity, that we’re not alone in the discomfort of coming-of-age. It takes a fearless persona to turn the lens on ourselves and discover who we really are — it’s a vulnerable act. We build our identities through the people we follow, the songs that play in our headphones and the bands on our T-shirts. In turn they remind us that we’re never alone in figuring out how to be human.

Written by Ella Price | Designed by Jahlysa Allen

Photographed by Dallia Lindell | Modeled by Carrie Brown

Photo Production by FashionMash Editorial

RED PILLED & BLUE’D OUT

Written by Phoebe Martel | Photographed by Alzahraa Al Bayati, Calli Westra, Claire Brennan, Dylan Thiessen, Ira Wilder | Designed by Arushi Rathod

Summer of Freud

My grandmother was in town not too long ago. At 88, she flaunts her designer jeans and perfectly coiffed platinum bob with the same gusto as her decades-long career as a second-wave feminist in the social sciences. A battle-weary psychologist who worked both in private practice and academia, she is well-versed in the interplay between the personal and political. One of my favorite stories of Grandma is from the 1970s when she helped organize the moms of Laguna Beach to descend on the local pool and drop their bikini tops after a woman was told to breastfeed in a restroom stall where nobody might glimpse her bare bosom.

But when she asked me about the cultural commentary podcast I was listening to, “Red Scare,” I wasn’t sure how to contextualize this particular marriage of persona and politics. Millennial hosts Dasha Nekrasova and Anna Khachiyan,

a pair of self-described “bohemian layabouts,” pull in around 50k a month for their five-year-old podcast. The podcast has dissected everything from Greta Gerwig’s “Barbie” to the Mueller special counsel investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election. It’s not necessarily its content, which has increasingly adopted a more reactionary bent, that drives the popularity. “Red Scare’s” ascendancy is mostly owed to the hosts themselves, particularly Nekrasova, a model and actress whose aesthetic - complete with a vocal fry and Instagram presence that might be described as post-Soviet literary seductress - has been replicated by hordes of New York micro-influencers. Notably, “The White Lotus” creator, Mike White, took inspiration from the “Red Scare” emcees in creating Season 1’s resident disaffected hot girl, Olivia (Sydney Sweeney).

“IT’S NOT NECESSARILY ITS CONTENT, WHICH HAS INCREASINGLY ADOPTED A MORE REACTIONARY BENT, THAT DRIVES THE POPULARITY.””

So, despite the legions of think pieces and Twitter takedowns aimed at “Red Scare’s” recent lurch to the right, there is a certain kind of young woman who

clicks the hashtag #redscaregirl (next to #fionapple, #coquette and #fleabag) to view TikTok montages of Dostoevsky quotes and superimposed over-emaciated models. These digital avatars wear lace negligees and rabbit furs against snowy backdrops that call to mind the former USSR republics Nekrasova and Khachiyan both hail from. I would guess that this young woman, who likely supports BLM and would never vote Republican, has not actually listened to a full episode of the podcast. Or else she has just heard the sound byte of Khachiyan flaming her younger self for having “Girl Interrupted syndrome” — an overwrought, performed melancholia that goes beyond teenage malaise and veers into a belief that your suffering is unique because of the media you consume.

I myself have been a young woman scrolling on Nekrosava’s feed, marveling at its brash synthesis of photoshoots in vintage corsets and political screeds, wondering, for example, what Khachiyan has to say about Lana del Rey’s latest record. And I find myself asking, how did “Red Scare’’ become the podcast I love to hate and hate to love?

“AND I FIND MYSELF ASKING, HOW DID ‘RED SCARE’ BECOME THE PODCAST I LOVE TO HATE AND HATE TO LOVE?”

Coverage of “Red Scare” by outlets such as Vanity Fair, The Guardian and Vox have centered on the podcast’s distaste for left-identity politics and mainstream liberal politesse. According to video essayist Maia, better known as Zooey Deschanel, “Red Scare” and similar “dirtbag left” podcasts have their origins in the ideological cataclysm of the 2016 election. Journalist and podcaster Amber A’Lee Frost minted the term “dirtbag left” to refer to the onslaught of irony-laden, expletive-ridden leftist media of the era.

“‘Red Scare,’ along with other dirtbag left podcasts, came up during a time of great political fervor in the U.S.,” Maia said. “This was a time when it felt like people were not only politically engaged, but growing skeptical of establishment liberalism. Podcasts like “Red Scare” offered a very frank, anti-establishment and, most importantly, impolite brand of political commentary that seemed to be missing from mainstream discourse.”

Indeed, Nekrasova and co-host Anna Khachiyan began their podcast with the intention to critique Democratic leaders’ uncritical embrace of neoliberal feminism and capitalistic rhetoric “from deep within the culture they’ve spawned,” per a 2018 profile from The Cut. “Red Scare” began as a space to lambast both identity politics — political activism that enshrines identifiers like gender identity, race and sexual orientation as the primary organizing tools for social justice and collective action — and mainstream feminism. In Khachiyan and Nekrasova’s view, establishment Democrats manipulate so-called “woke” rhetoric to divide the working class. “Red Scare’s” disdain for liberal sensibilities and ideological or-

thodoxy has, in recent years, led to them platforming alt-right pundits like Steve Bannon and Ann Coulter.

“SOME SERVE MORE AS IN-HOUSE PUBLICISTS THAN CONSCIENTIOUS PURVEYORS OF THIS NASCENT AVANTGARDE.””

Controversies ensued — yet listeners still tuned in, paying for Patreon subscriptions. For video essayist Maia, young women are drawn to Nekrasova

and Khachiyan’s “shrewd mean girl” personas because they offer a counterpoint to the apolitical, relentlessly optimistic tone that she said mainstream feminism has adopted “as it’s absorbed into latestage capitalism.” In other words, girls are tired of the “girls support girls” narrative. But when I tune in to an infamous episode in which the hosts gleefully mock Taylor Swift’s struggles with an eating disorder, I find myself alert to how their oft-acute criticisms of celebrity idolatry can so easily backslide into provocation for provocation’s sake.

In spite of, and perhaps because of, its disjointed politics, which are more or less a dogged dedication to shock value “Red Scare’s” cultural capital within a specific digital milieu cannot be understated. The podcast is understood to be the crowning jewel of the alternative media scene called Dimes Square, named for a microneighborhood straddling Chinatown and the Lower East Side (“Red Scare” is recorded in Lower Manhattan). The boys run meme pages about Bushwick DIY venues and work as production assistants on Peter Vack films about camgirls and the onward march of surveillance capitalism to pay for their art school student loans. The girls wear ribbons in their hair, à la del Rey’s “Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd,” while dabbling in tradwife gender politics and crypto-fascism.

rages alongside their centerfolds, shot on 35mm and an industrial supply of Newports. There’s the literati, populated by queer women like Anna Dorn and Jenny Fran Davis, whose works eschew feelgood, liberation literature in favor of absurdist, anti-woke auto fictions that read like a Rolodex of hyper-referential queer discourses. One Goodreads reviewer proclaims of Fran Davis’ “Dykette,” “This book would kill a straight person.”

“ONCE YOU BREACH THE FIRST LAYER OF THE DIMES SQUARE MULTIVERSE, THE ALGORITHM WILL DO THE REST FOR YOU.”

#sedevacantryst

Once you breach the first layer of the Dimes Square multiverse, the algorithm will do the rest for you. There’s the anemic-chic models, like Alana Champion and Chloe Cherry, who sprinkle shitposts and grainy photos of suburban parking ga-

And then there’s the whole micro-industry of Dimes Square chroniclers, archivists and analysts. Some serve more as in-house publicists than conscientious purveyors of this nascent avant-garde. There’s Tyler Bainbridge, a 27-year-old college dropout and occasional DJ, according to his personal website. He distributes and curates the “Perfectly Imperfect Newsletter,” a circular cataloging the internet hyperfixations, favorite thrifted leathers and Letterboxd watchlists of this side of New York’s leading tastemakers and dilettantes, including Cherry, Nekrasova and Lena Dunham, an O.G. millennial maven and misfit. He is quoted, in a recent New York Times profile by Alex Hawgood, as prophesying that his pet project will be the singular living document historians will use to articulate yesteryear notions of coolness.

It is this self-commodification and hyper-online categorization of art and persona that is at the crux of “Red Scare” and other Dimes Square outputs, self-parodies and post-modernist performance art. Coolness has always been a fraught, multifront analytical landscape from the time that James Dean was smoking on the cover of Life magazine. The quest

Modeled by Grace Berry, Liz Wolfe

Styled by Loulie Olson, Elizabeth Comer, Gigi Guffey

for cool, at first blush, seems to be a protracted battle for studied youthfulness, ideological irreverence and artful ennui.

My grandmother, who I consider to be the epitome of octogenarian cool, understands the specter of manufactured bohemianism well enough. In her early adulthood, this took the form of listless beatniks who were perhaps more interested in the aesthetics of revolution than its nitty-gritty reality. But, in her activist heyday as a second-wave feminist organizer, there was still a groundswell of onthe-ground progressive, anti-capitalist collectives that made meaningful strides in civil rights, anti-poverty legislation and queer liberation. Today, our elected officials co-opt and neuter social justice rhetoric, deracinating it from its radical origins and incorporating it into the discursive machine of the state. Genuine dissent is a paradox; people post infographics about geopolitical conflicts for three weeks and move on.

When my grandmother was demanding the right to own a credit card as a divorced woman, there was the sense of a blank slate on which progressives could inscribe a multicultural, enlightened utopia of artists and laborers. The only roadblock was the conservative government, so clear and blatant in its villainy. Now, the same corrupted institutions affix

pride flags to cop cars and claim to care about the proletariat, all while suppressing organized labor and sponsoring ethnonationalist massacres of the poor and destitute in the Middle East.

It is no wonder that college-educated millennials and Gen Zers turn to the fractured Internet as their primary source of self-actualization. We graduate into an economy so abysmal that flabbergasted pundits and Gen X parents blame idle hands and $13 avocado toast, insisting that they were able to put a down payment on a two-bedroom at our age. A few daring members of the particularly-precarious creative class arise from the fray, weaponizing our craving for company amongst our misery. They live and die by the power of the ever-morphing algorithm, fishing for ways to monetize disparate subcultures and optimize their personalities.

Anyone who has followed Nekrasova and Khachiyan’s trajectory knows, even if they haven’t admitted it, that the appeal of “Red Scare” and other Dimes Square mainstays is not that it promotes a political blueprint for twenty-something intellectuals and artists. After all, what unites all the tastemakers featured in Bainbridge’s newsletter isn’t a shared perspective on the siege of Gaza or a distinct interpretation of Neo-Cathol-

icism. It’s that its apparent signifiers — the models’ Slavic physiognomy or the Pabst Blue Ribbon-and-flannel getup of its male podcasters — intersects with the algorithm in such a hyper-referential, rapidly-morphing manner. Dimes Square as a locale coalesces into a tenuous scene, transcending the borders of rapidly-gentrifying Chinatown and penetrating the cultural stratosphere.

French philosopher Jean Baudrillard’s 1981 theory of hyperreality articulates

how the distance between digital reality, or the “simulation,” and real life will be blurred. At the time, the Internet age was in its nascence, and there was still some separation between artifice and nature. Now, hyperreality is announcing itself less and less subtly. Nekrasova appears in multiple episodes of “Succession,” a prestige TV show taking aim at the extremely wealthy while visually glorifying their “quiet luxury” and minimalist skyscrapers. Fast-fashion emporiums like Dolls Kill regurgitate microtrends from the bowels of thrift TikTok, upselling sweatshop-hewn #Eurodance and #fairycore rave outfits. The commodity becomes more tangible and real than the original creative intent, buried under a sedimentary piling of ambiguously-derived, vocal-fried irony. The simulation may have glitched beyond repair, but coolness may have a chance at survival, as our generation’s creed.

“AT THE TIME, THE INTERNET AGE WAS IN ITS NASCENCE, AND THERE WAS STILL SOME SEPARATION BETWEEN ARTIFICE AND NATURE.”

HowtobeaFan

Written by Olivia Dela Cruz | Designed by Thomas Moody-Jones

Spot the difference between the behavior at a Taylor Swift concert and a NFL game: you can’t. Fans yelling at the top of their lungs, cheering and clapping for their favorite players or artists, expressing a passion that is harmful to no one. Yet, these two fanbases have a major difference that has defined how each group has been perceived for a century. Artists like Swift have predominantly female supporters and sports like football have predominantly male supporters. This gender divide has played a huge role in the branding of fans and how they are perceived by the rest of society, despite the strong similarity between them. There is no denying that female fans face stereotyping and ridicule simply for being passionate about their interests, and the ‘fangirl’ has become a negative label assigned to female-presenting fans who are too open with their excitement.

Let’s take it back to Beatlemania.

One of the biggest bands of all time was backed by a fandom of largely young women who had no interest in hiding their love for the Beatles and their music. Like every fanbase, there were

“IN THE 1960S, THE WASHINGTON POST LABELED BEATLEMANIA AS A ‘MENTAL DISTURBANCE.’”

extremists who took their interest in the musical group too far (i.e. self-harm and stalking), but, as a result, the entire fandom was made out to be hysterical. In the 1960s, the Washington Post labeled Beatlemania as a “mental disturbance,” showing how little they thought of Beatles supporters and dismissing the power behind such a dedicated fanbase. Comparing passion with mental illness delegitimizes the influence of the Beatles in music and the genuine support female fans gave to the band. Beatlemania is often cited as the first iteration of the fangirl, blazing a trail for the frenzied Beliebers and Directioners of the last decade.

This trend towards the ‘hysterical female fan’ trope can be seen time and time again in the music industry: Elvis and the Beatles, NSYNC and One Direction, Justin Bieber and BTS. Some of the most beloved artists have

successful careers supported by female fans, yet they carry a stigma because of it. They are dismissed as not making ‘real music’ and their fans are labeled as dramatic and superficial, delegitimizing the music they make and the impact they have on the industry. While it is true that fans can become dangerous in their love for an artist, it is unique to women-dominated fandoms that it tarnishes their reputation. Were all hip-hop fans branded as too intense when a fight broke out at a Drake concert over a towel? Are all soccer fans labeled as violent when riots commonly break out after a loss? The lack of repercussions and lesser amount of media coverage for male-dominated celebrations says no.

This pattern stems from the idea that men are driven by passion, while women are driven by obsession. Such messaging can be traced back to belief

Photos Credit: Unsplash

(Don’t)

systems like the Cult of Domesticity, where women were supposed to maintain virtues like purity and submissiveness. Even now, a loud and opinionated woman is synonymous with an annoying woman. So, when one Harry Styles fan displays obsessive behavior, it is easy for the rest of the music industry and society to say this fan represents everyone who loves Harry Styles. The ease with which people do this is likely formed by the way we are taught to put down the interests of young girls that society considers shallow or ridiculous. This ridicule creates a harmful cycle that trivializes the music being made and shames those who dare to like it. It is not only men who dismiss the interests of young female fans. Patriarchal ideals can unconsciously seep into the attitudes of women, and those attempting to meet the ‘standard’ set by society for what music is right and wrong to like will also shame female fans. In turn, these women- and the men setting the standards and participating in the dismissal- are suffering at their own hands, restricting the kinds of music they are open to hearing and rejecting any artist that doesn’t fit the status quo

of ‘real music.’

When it comes to popular culture and the power of fans in the music industry, male dedication is celebrated and respected, while female dedication is belittled and undervalued. Though past and present audiences could argue otherwise, the power of the female fan is obvious through history.

Female-dominated fanbases have been at least partially responsible for some of the biggest musical acts of the last century. Elvis still holds the record for the most Top 40 hits, and, in 1993, the Washington Post found that nearly 80% of his fans were women. BTS is the first Korean pop act to be nominated for a Grammy, and The Korea Times estimated their fanbase to be 86% women.

Taylor Swift has supposedly generated about $4.6 billion for local economies in America with her Eras Tour, according to Forbes. All of these artists have fans who prove their passion has power.

However, it is true that there is potential for all types of fans, gender aside, to become irrational in their love for an artist or band. Those stories of women fainting at Michael Jackson’s concerts or screaming inappropriate

“NO MATTER WHERE THEY CENTER THEIR FOCUS, PREDOMINANTLY FEMALE FANBASES WILL FACE BACKLASH FOR EXPRESSING PASSION FOR THE THINGS THEY LOVE.”

requests at Elvis were not made up, and with the ability for artists to show more of themselves online comes the opportunity for fans to feel a deeper connection with them. Parasocial relationships are much easier to form than they once were, and they are even easier to put on display, subjecting an entire fandom to be represented by a few extremists. The nature of sharing passion for a musician online also makes it easier for others to use insulting and condescending language towards both the artist and the fans, further perpetuating constructs that trivialize primarily female fanbases.

This is a larger issue than deciding what ‘real music’ is or what people are allowed to be a fan of. No matter where they center their focus, predominantly female fanbases will face backlash for expressing passion for the things they love. The gender divide between how women and men can be fans is based around ideas of how women are supposed to act, and what it means to society when they deviate from these standards of constraint. And as long as no harm is caused, what’s wrong with being a passionate fan? If hysterical and dramatic are the words used to describe a woman with outward interests, then let them be hysterical and dramatic. Just make sure to call the football fans the same.

Marrakech

Take a trip to the Jardin Majorelle with Karl Lagerfeld, Yves Saint Laurent, Jacques de Bascher & Pierre Bergé. Be sure to pack some spare tops and bottoms for good measure.

Photographed by Heather Diehl, Kaya Jordann, Sarah Coates

Modeled by Luke Francis, Taft Stevens, Thomas Moody-Jones, Will Kleinschmidt

Styled by Maile Maldonado, Elizabeth Comer, Gigi Guffey

Production by Alexandra Sanchez Maldonado

or

SHAMHOW

Written by Sydney Brainard Designed by Ashley Daniel

After Coperni sprayed a Fabrican dress onto Bella Hadid for their Spring/Summer 2023 show at Paris Fashion Week in September of 2022, the clip took the fashion world by storm. It was certainly spectacular to witness: Bella Hadid, statuesque on the runway as a white substance was sprayed on her body and formed into fabric. The reaction was widespread, with fashion lovers across the internet proclaiming that real fashion was back and history had been made.

It seemed to be a success all around, but what did the stunt actually mean?

For Coperni and Fabrican, the company that produced this spray-on fabric, it certainly had one important purpose. Fabrican’s website notes that the moment was viewed by “millions of people around the globe” and that the apparent Media Impact Value (MIV) was equal to $26.3 million. While views don’t necessarily equate to sales, especially for a less accessible brand such as Coperni, the virality of the spectacle does all the marketing Coperni could ever need – for free.

Fashion isn’t boring, and there’s plenty of room for performances and spectacles on the runway. Still, there’s a way to do it right and a way to do it wrong, and you can be pretty sure that when the motive is purely financial, it will be glaringly obvious in the art that it produces. Coperni may have brought in millions of clicks,

but they don’t stack up quite the same when it comes to artistic value.

“FOR BRANDS, VIRALITY TRANSLATES TO PUBLICITY AND PROFIT — AND THEY CERTAINLY KNOW IT.”

Coperni is far from the first brand to pull a stunt like this on the runway. In fact, fashion history is chock full of them — none so iconic as the finale of Alexander McQueen’s Spring 1999 show, featuring supermodel Shalom Harlow. The show honored the Arts and Crafts movement and featured natural materials and designs made from wood, leather and lace.

The striking finale with Harlow was inspired by a performance art piece by German artist Rebecca Horn, called “High Noon,” in which two guns fired red paint at each other. In his own inter-

esting take on the dynamic, McQueen had robot arms shoot paint at Harlow as they attacked like spitting cobras. Everything was precise and purposeful, down to the individual joints of the robots.

The spectacle with Shalom took place in the warehouse that served as the show’s venue. The model began to spin on a wooden turn-table, appearing frightened as the robot arms moved around her. Suddenly, the robots began to spray black and neon green paint, covering Shalom’s white dress in graffitied steaks. Shalom teetered as if she was being shot, attempting to protect herself with her glistening arms.

The performance shocked the audience, and cemented McQueen’s status as one of the most creative and, possibly greatest, designers of all time.

The Coperni and McQueen performances have repeatedly been compared to each other, despite Coperni stating that their act was not an homage to McQueen. It’s smart for Coperni to try to separate their stunt from McQueen’s, because just as McQueen’s stunt with Shalom rang true to his art, Coperni’s rang hollow.

The McQueen performance is legendary and has continued to hold weight within the fashion sphere for decades. When we compare Coperni’s to McQueen’s, we can see where the rift in the fashion world lies and what started it.

“PULL A STUNT. IT’S THE BIG RED EMERGENCY BUTTON.”

There was a time, not too long ago, when those lining the rows of fashion shows were stars, journalists and buyers. Today, fashion week looks a little different, lined with various influencers and internet personalities. It’s not necessarily the fault of the influencers — who many in fashion still consider beneath them — but rather, the system that made them famous: the increasing necessity to market through the internet. Fashion shows are no longer an exclusive affair, only visible to the public through journalists and photographers. Instead, they are captured and released to millions by any guest with a smartphone — which happens to be just about all of them.

For brands, virality translates to publicity and profit — and they certainly know it. Are profits falling and popularity fading? Pull a stunt. It’s the big red emergency button.

It’s no secret that the fashion industry

Photo Credit: Coperni, licensed through Shutterstock

has become a lot less about creativity, and a lot more about lining the pockets of a few 70-something European businessmen. However, I think brands like Coperni underestimate the ability of the public to recognize a publicity stunt. And while plenty of designers have pumped out spectacles completely devoid of any intention beyond fluffing up those profit margins, plenty more designers have created performances that successfully heightened their art.

In recent fashion memory, designer Hussein Chalayan pulled off a stunning spectacle at his Spring/Summer 2016 show. Two of his models, wearing simple white dresses with military details, stood underneath a showerhead, revealing that their dresses disintegrated in water. The white dresses melted away, revealing Swarovski-encrusted, black-and-white cocktail dresses.

Chalayan’s collection was inspired by Cuba, and the transformation of the dresses represented a shift in Cuba from militancy to playfulness. The designer chose water to portray this shift because of the vast ocean that surrounds the island country.

Spectacles and performances have an important place in fashion. In fact, one could argue that fashion shows are essentially one big performance within themselves. However, you can’t just throw a

spray-on dress at the end of a show and call it high art. Especially when the rest of the collection consists of conventional slip dresses, bra cups as shoulder pads, and cutely patterned matching sets and dresses. Viewers can tell when a whole show is pinned upon one dynamic act.

“VIEWERS CAN TELL WHEN A WHOLE SHOW IS PINNED UPON ONE DYNAMIC ACT.”

The Coperni stunt certainly wowed attendees and caught the eye of swarms of people on the internet, but if anyone seeks to dig a little deeper, beyond the dazzling viral video seen online, they’ll find a lackluster collection, a spectacle devoid of real meaning, and a performance which, other than garnering millions of clicks, had little to no cultural impact. The bar doesn’t have to be so low.

“AFantastic _Voyage” of Recognizing Identity

Written by Makayla Santos Designed by Niha Kanumuri, Nyah Rizzuti

An actress, beauty icon and Latina legend. This is just part of the legacy that Raquel Welch left behind when she died in 2023.

Despite a seemingly glamorous life, Welch faced ugly realities in the entertainment industry. Welch had been encouraged early on to hide her Hispanic heritage if she wanted to succeed and be taken seriously as an actress. This is akin to the feeling so many Latina women, like myself, and other people of color face in today’s society

ian-born father and American mother who met as students at the University of Illinois. Welch’s family soon moved to La Jolla, California, where her father urged her to assimilate into American culture. Spanish was not allowed to be spoken in their home. In a 2002 interview with The New York Times, Welch spoke of this experience.

“WELCH HAD BEEN ENCOURAGED EARLY ON TO HIDE HER HISPANIC HERITAGE”

“In a way he didn’t have a choice. There was a sense of shame on his part, of the confusion and the prejudice around against Latinos,” she said. “So he suffered a great deal. I suffered some. My suffering is more of a kind of psychological feeling of not knowing who I am.’’

I can relate to Welch’s family dynamic. My father is Mexican-born, and my mother is white American. For me, the hardest part of being multiracial came from not knowing who to relate to. In school, I didn’t feel fully accepted by white children or Hispanic children, so I felt somewhat stuck in the middle.

Having role models and simply seeing individuals who look like you or that you can identify with is especially important when you’re a child developing your own self-view. As a kid, I personally admired

Selena Gomez — first, because I was obsessed with “Wizards of Waverly Place,” and second because she also has a white mother and Mexican father. This, to me, was a confirmation of my identity and of the potential that I could achieve. Seeing someone whose identity I could relate to and who was portrayed in such a positive light helped me realize that my differences should be celebrated.

Raquel Welch has always been a role model for Latinos. In an interview with NBC, Brian Herrera, an associate professor at Princeton University, said Welch’s Hispanic heritage was “always there, always visible.” She still had the look even if she wasn’t explicitly acknowledging it. Clearly, others agreed. 20th Century Fox, the studio Welch signed a contract with in 1965, suggested she change her name to Debbie because Raquel sounded “too ethnic.” In her interview with The New York Times, Welch recalled this outspoken suggestion.

“You just couldn’t be too different,” Welch said. She recalled her hair being dyed blond when she was cast in “One Million Years B.C.” Welch called this appearance change “a marketing thing.”

When Playboy named the 100 sexiest female stars of the century in 1998, Welch came in third place alongside first place Marilyn Monroe, second place Jayne Mansfield and fourth place Brigitte Bardot. Though each of these women were beauty icons in their own respect, they didn’t represent a very diverse array of individuals. Instead, they conform to the typical Western beauty standard — white with blond hair — a look that has been encouraged and praised in society for decades. To see a Latina woman acknowledged in this way was a pivotal

step in the recognition of Latinas in society. The National Hispanic Media Coalition has praised Welch for breaking the “stigma of Hollywood’s typical blonde bombshell.”

As Welch grew older, she began to step into her Hispanic heritage, learning to speak Spanish in her 60s and starring in multiple TV and movie roles that embraced her identity. In 2002 at the National Press Club, Welch stated, “Latinos are here to stay” — a statement that encapsulated years of struggling with her identity and finally embracing it wholeheartedly. That same year, Welch went on to tell The New York Times that she was “happy to acknowledge” her heritage and that it was “long overdue.”

“There’s been a kind of empty place in my heart and also in my work for a long, long time,” she said.

Even if you have yet to fully step into

your identity, it still represents an important part of who you are. In many ways, I am still stepping into my identity surrounding my Hispanic heritage. Sometimes I don’t always think of myself as Latina because I don’t practice the same traditions that are encouraged in Hispanic culture, but it’s still a part of my identity. To echo Raquel Welch, I embrace my identity, and I am happy to acknowledge it because no matter what, it makes me who I am.

Photo Credits: Hammer Film Productions, via Shutterstock

Rest in peace, Raquel Welch. May your legacy live on and continue to be a guiding light for girls like me.

“EVEN IF YOU HAVE YET TO FULLY “STEP INTO” YOUR IDENTITY, IT STILL REPRESENTS AN IMPORTANT PART OF WHO YOU ARE.”

Sashaying In

The Shadows

Photographed by Katelyn Crespo, Sarah Coates, Vivien Liebler

Designed by Joey Marmaud, Monique Gandy

Take a sip from the surrealist ball of the century at UNC’s oldest secret society. Some may call it Gimghoul, but we prefer “Cult-ure.”

Modeled by Adolfo Alvarez, Diannah Halim, Dianne Celemen, Emiley Gurganus, Jaden Esquivel, Mariam Ali, Sanyukta Lamsal, Taylor Maffeo, Thomas Benson, Will Kleinschmidt

Styled by Maile Maldonado, Elizabeth Comer, Henry Thomas COULTURE MAGAZINE • LEGACY

Production by Alexandra Sanchez Maldonado, Gabrielly Nolasco, Joey Marmaud, Maddie Monteleone, Max Mara, Monique Gandy, Sophia Katz

LOCALIZED SUSTAINABILITY

Written by Minh Anh Le | Designed by ChaVon Shade | Photo by FashionMash Editorial

Of the 100 billion garments produced each year, 92 million tons end up in landfills — the equivalent of a garbage truck full of clothes dumped in landfill sites every second, as reported by Earth.org.

The fashion industry is driven by overconsumption which overshadows the toll that unsustainable production has on our lives and the environment. According to McKinsey & Company, the textile industry accounted for 4 percent of global emissions in 2018.

Keel Labs’ co-founders Aleks Gosiewski and Tessa Callaghan share a vision of sustainability and a commitment to combating the climate crisis and unsustainable practices in the textile industry. “Truly sustainable fashion is predicated on creating the smallest footprint possible, and in a way that allows for the renewal and regeneration of resources required throughout production,” Callaghan said.

Both Gosiewski and Callaghan have a bachelor’s degree at the esteemed Fashion Institute of Technology in New York and have been exposed to harmful fashion production practices through their work with various brands.

“Seeing firsthand the amount of pollution generated by the industry, we discovered that the raw materials used in the fashion industry were simply too harmful to reconcile,” Callaghan said.

The pair decided they would do something about it. In 2017, Gosiewski and Callaghan launched AlgiKnit. In 2022, the company was rebranded as Keel Labs, where they have since developed ocean-focused solutions to transform the textile industry. The company’s flagship product, Kelsun fiber, is crafted from over 75 percent seaweed biopolymers.

“We use seaweed biopolymers as the basis of our fiber’s formulation, which we then combine with a proprietary blend of non-toxic additives,” Callaghan said.

The seaweed fiber can be implemented into the existing modes of manufacturing and into the value chain of yarn and textile suppliers.

Keel Labs makes it possible for brands to continue making the products their customers know and love, but now with a clean conscience. “We work directly with brands and their suppliers to implement Kelsun into their existing supply chains,” Callaghan said. “Keel

Labs partnered with Stella McCartney for Stella’s Sustainable Markets runway show in Paris Fashion Week this year.”

“THE COLLABORATION WITH STELLA MCCARTNEY MARKED THE DEBUT OF KELSUN FIBER.”

The collaboration with Stella McCartney marked the debut of Kelsun fiber.

A significant environmental benefit of products made with Kelsun fiber is that they can recycle and regenerate in the natural world, unlike the millions of tons of clothes ending up in landfills.

“Kelsun fiber is verified to compost in both home and industrial composting environments,” Callaghan said.

As climate change becomes more tangible every second, Keel Labs invites each individual to take steps toward educating themselves and choosing sustainable alternatives as consumers.

“The first step is to recognize what the issues are. In the fashion industry, overconsumption is one of the key contributors to waste,” Callaghan said. “Buying second-hand clothes is a great way to combat it.”

“With just a thread and a needle, you can save clothing from ending up in the trash, where only a small fraction of clothing actually gets recycled,” Callaghan said.

WILL

SOMEONE PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY? SOMEONE

Written by Grace Wilkinson

Designed by Christina Mangelsdorf, Niha Kanumuri, Sanvi Korsapathy

Ihave yet to spend less than $9 on concessions at any PlayMakers Repertory performance. I arm myself for each show with a Diet Coke, CheezIt crackers and Peanut M&M’s, telling myself that if the production is a disaster, at least I will have my trio to get me through it. However, I would have been perfectly fine watching William Goldman’s “Misery” without my trio of accessories; a level of vulnerability similar to a Bee Gees member performing without chest hair. “Misery” was gripping enough to make me forget about the brilliance of a sweet and salty combo and gory enough to render this appetite lost.

Goldman’s adaptation of Stephen King’s 1987 novel opened on Broadway in 2015, starring Laurie Metcalf, who received a Tony award nomination, and Bruce Willis, who Variety magazine described as “vacant.” The PlayMakers production stars UNC-Chapel Hill’s Julia Gibson, professor of dramatic arts, as the senile and obsessive Annie Wilkes with Karl Kenzler as the renowned author Paul Sheldon. The show begins with Sheldon having just crashed his car. Wilkes, his “number-one fan,” finds and kidnaps him. She nurses him back to health in her home, not letting Sheldon leave until he writes a sequel to his series of books, “Misery.”

Kenzler’s performance was not vacant — it was the product of playing opposite a woman who commands the stage and

performs what may as well be a one-woman show. Kenzler’s acting performance is impressive as he leisurely maneuvers a vintage, crotchety wheelchair throughout the performance. My father used to make obstacle courses for me in the front yard; this is what director Jeffrey Meanza does for Kenzler. Kenzler never walks — he convincingly performs anguish as his character suffers from two broken legs, navigating through tight corridors with ease in an aged wheelchair.

“GIBSON COMMANDS THE STAGE WITH A GRAVELLY, POSSESSED VOICE AND HEAVY LIMBS.”

If the two characters are performing a gymnastics floor routine, Julia Gibson is our Simone Biles. She performs a character slipping into insanity with disturbing believability. She is eerie and slimy and everything that a Stephen King antagonist should be. Gibson commands the stage with a gravelly, possessed voice and heavy limbs. She performs mindless

tasks about her house with such focus and concentration that watching her pick at her nails is a performance in itself. Her portrayal of Wilkes is reminiscent of the great psychological thrillers that make up the genre; “The Shining,” “American Psycho” and “Parasite” come to mind.

If Kenzler’s and Gibson’s performances were to be upstaged by anything, it would have been the technical elements. A rotating stage, fake snow and two broken legs all within the first 15 minutes assure the audience that no morsel of the budget was wasted. The only questionable choice was the pig’s head that lurked beneath a kitchen rag, which resembled a Halloween decoration and reminded the audience that we were watching . The props collection was redeemed, however, by a catheter which Kenzler used in the second act.

At $10 for a student ticket, plus three concessions, the afternoon ran me a bill of $19. Of course, I can cut back on concessions, and probably should. “Misery” was a good pick for PlayMakers — timely and spooky with its closing performance on Halloween. It is a refreshing sight to behold a leading female antagonist, especially when she commands the stage as boldly as Julia Gibson.

KIARA MEL

THE JOURNEY TO MISS GAY NORTH CAROLINA

Written by Sinclair Holian Designed by Monique Gandy

When Kiara Mel strutted onto stage, a hush swept over the Miss Gay North Carolina America 2022 Pageant. For a moment, the only sound in the Hickory, NC club was the click of high heels. Then, Mel’s lipsticked mouth opened. “See, they don’t know nothin’,” she declared to the crowd. “They don’t know nothin’!”

“ONE DAY, SOMETHING ‘JUST CLICKED’ WHEN HE WATCHED ‘RU PAUL’S DRAG RACE.’”

Mel went on to perform a stirring, nearly three-minute long monologue from soul legend Gladys Knight’s “End of the Road Medley.” Shortly after the flawless performance, she was crowned Miss Gay North Carolina America 2022 — the state’s highest honor for drag.

Watching Mel on stage, her glamor — complete with glittering gowns and sky-high hair — appears effortless. But to Triston Chagolla, Mel is the product of long hours, thousands of hand-sewn crystals and a tireless passion.

Chagolla was born and raised in Shannon, NC, a tiny rural town with an estimated population of just over 200 people. Raised in an agricultural family, he spent his summers on the farm, and re-

members his early days filled with music.

Chagolla, who is Native American, said much of his youth was shaped by religion. “Most of the people in my county are Native American, so there’s a very rich Native history,” he said. “And our history is kind of driven by Christianity.”

Church was like “a concert every Sunday,” and he fell in love with playing piano and singing at services. But for Chagolla, who knew he was gay since he was a child, homophobia in the church felt inescapable.

“It was my first thought in the morning. It was my last thought when I went to sleep,” he said. “My only prayer was to not be that way.”

Homophobia kept Chagolla in the closet throughout childhood and high school. But when he moved to Raleigh in 2015 to study at NC State University, his world began to open. Although he was still closeted, he began going out to gay bars with his new friends. “Moving to Raleigh and seeing queer people be loved and celebrated and knowing that they weren’t ‘the devil,’” he said, “I was like, ‘Oh, it’s okay to be queer.’”

“DRAG COMBINED EVERYTHING CHAGOLLA LOVED.”

The process of coming out, Chagolla said, was like peeling off layers of a disguise, and watching queer media was an important part of that journey. One day, something “just clicked” when he

watched “Ru Paul’s Drag Race.”

Drag combined everything Chagolla loved — music, performance, fashion and storytelling — into one art form. He decided, “I should do that.” And Kiara Mel was born.

Chagolla still remembers every detail of Mel’s debut at Legends Nightclub in Raleigh. Wearing a blonde wig, a Fashion Nova bodysuit and tall white go-go boots, Mel performed to a mix of Beyoncé tracks, Chagolla’s longtime idol. After Mel’s performance, the audience exploded into applause. At the end of the night, Mel won the entire competition.

After that first show, Mel skyrocketed. “It just blew up,” Chagolla remembered. In just a few months, Mel went from performing at amateur shows to being booked for paid performances every weekend. It’s a climb that hasn’t slowed; today, Mel boasts more than 2,000 followers on Instagram.

“PART OF MEL’S STAR POWER IS HER CONFIDENCE.”

Part of Mel’s star power is her confidence. Growing up, Chagolla remembers only ever seeing plus-sized people of color represented as jokes in the media. Mel, Chagolla said, offers better representation: she’s “unapologetically fat, and brown, and sexy, and smart.”

But even as Mel’s success grew, Chagolla was still closeted to his family. “I tell people all the time, being in the closet is like being underwater,” he said.

“I just couldn’t do it anymore,” he said, “because I just felt like I was drowning.”

Chagolla said coming out to his conservative family was one of the hardest things he had ever done. “But no matter how much it hurt them and how confusing it was, I’m just glad I did it.”

Years later, winning the title of Miss Gay North Carolina America 2022 brought a new set of responsibilities for Mel. As the new face of drag for the state, news outlets began reaching out to Chagolla for comments on House Bill 673, pending legislation that aimed

to ban drag performances anywhere there might be people under the age of 18.

Chagolla takes his role as a representative for his community seriously. He spent his reign as an advocate for queer people, and especially for the transgender community, who he’s noticed have been most targeted by legislation. “As long as I have air in my lungs and I have a platform,” he said, “I’m always gonna fight for trans people.”

As part of his efforts to give back to the queer community, Chagolla volunteers with Drag Queen Story Hour, a nonprofit program that uses drag to connect children to inclusive storytelling. “I just remember, as a child, knowing I

was queer, knowing I was different, it felt like I had nowhere to escape and be with folks that were like me,” he reflected.

“This gives me an opportunity to just be able to be a part of something a lot bigger than myself,” he continued. “It’s about creating a safe space for them.”

Photo Credit: Miss Gay North Carolina

Ancora Red with Passion

Distilling inspiration from the details again, and again and again

Written and Designed by Joey Marmaud | Photo Credit: Gigi Guffey

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, it’s a shame we all can’t view the world through the slant of Gigi Guffey. While those familiar with Guffey, one of Coulture’s associate style editors, will be keen to recognize her sleight of hand throughout the styling of this issue’s shoots, those less fortunate may glean a morsel of her dexterity by way of @gigiguffeyetc, the creative’s Instagram-account-time-capsule-photography-canon documenting her spring 2023 semester in Milan.

The account’s feed is as varied as the city it chronicles: garish club scenes bleeding into metro candids; arresting architecture bisecting Fashion Week freneticism; couples mulling Lake Como

atop the fringed tassels of a skirt. So much to see! So much to do! At only 30 posts, the account stays largely true to its Italian outpost, with the exception of one Málaga, Spain, carousel. This is aberrant from the typical American abroad.

The cynical read is that, in a postCOVID-19 candy shop for Instagram’s eyes, the student abroad will balloon their laundry list of countries visited as much as possible for name-dropping purposes. One may inquire about the value of gamboling from Parisian speakeasies to Budapestian dive bars if that means eschewing the unknown of one’s own backyard. Why not localize the peripatetic to the Spanish Walls of Milan, that liminal space existing between one’s

apartment and Malpensa?

“I can travel for the rest of my life, but I feel like I’m not going to be a young girl in her 20s getting to have ‘aperitivo’ by the Navigli every day with no care in the world,” Guffey said. “I also really wanted to truly experience ‘la dolce vita’ lifestyle because it’s just such a treat. That was really my favorite part. I felt like a true Milanese by the time I left.”

“MAYBE IT’S JUST THE BRUNETTE IN ME.”

While the insouciance Guffey speaks of renders fantasies of Fellini girls smoking listlessly alongside olive-skinned beaux, @gigiguffeyetc relents a more animated picture of a girl about town before and after the “aperitivo” hour she regards as holy as the Vatican.

“ACTUALLY, I WAS IN IBIZA, SO YOU CAN PUT TWO AND TWO TOGETHER.”

“I went to Prada and then a smaller show,” Guffey recounted, racking her brain to sift through the whiplash of Milan Fashion Week shows that overtake the city twice a year. “Dolce & Gabbana was promoting [Tomo Koizumi] because he was a newer designer. And then I went to Ferragamo, which was awesome. And then I went to the Armani show. I also went to . . .”

One image in particular cuts through the sartorial noise: a money shot of Julia Fox staring down the barrel of the camera, mane as sanguine as the Chanel bags from her youth as a downtown dominatrix (Guffey accredits Lagerfeld’s couture shows as her fashion red pill). Caption: “A guest list just as bold as the lifestyle.” Red, coincidentally Guffey’s favorite color, throughlines the account more than any other color.

“I almost feel like it’s one of those colors that’s kind of harder to wear things [with] because it doesn’t . . . I don’t know, I feel like people are scared to wear red. Even outside of clothing, I love how bold it is. Maybe it’s just the brunette in me.”

Although Guffey used a Canon EOS 7D to chronicle MFW in all its hues, she actually rotated between two cameras during her semester, including a Nikon FG20 for more casual excursions. For Guffey, navigating photography alongside Milan’s tramlines is as hereditary as any brand DNA; most of the equipment she used was her father’s, who at one point had his own studio for wedding portraiture.

“YOU DON’T WANT PEOPLE TO SEE YOUR EYES.”

“Especially with my film camera, my dad had to show me how to use it manually,” she remarks. “I had to learn all about the aperture and depth of field and ISO, all the things that go with a manual camera that you have to adjust every single time you take a picture.” Having such an array of options made it more practical to capture the candid and impromptu, unencumbered by the requisite equipment paired with her Canon.

“I went to Spain and I took my camera, of course, but it was one of the times when I didn’t even use my camera at all because I was just, you know, out being a tourist,” she reconsidered. “Actually, I was in Ibiza, so you can put two and two together.”

Less dramatic but nonetheless provoc-

ative are Guffey’s images of the Milanese minutiae, divorced from their wearer. From April 11: Carolina blue heels enlacing the gauzy tights of an anonymous fashion person. At Armani/Silos: ant lines of beads marching across the décolletage of a mannequin, on a pilgrimage between two gem-encrusted straps leaving so little — and so much — to the imagination.

“I love the small details. Especially at the Armani museum, the way his clothing was stitched and the way he manipulated different fabrics to put them together, and patterns and that sort of stuff. That kind of relates to also understanding that you can see beauty in so many small unique moments of life, you know? And then zooming out, of course, it’s going to be there, but when you really look in you’re like, ‘wow, every small piece of beauty creates a masterpiece.’”

Guffey spends the next 10 minutes waxing lyrical about the Milanese fashion identity, perhaps the least understood of the Big Four. Keywords are: patterns, timelessness, dimension, per-

sonality and, of course, details. As for fashion advice?

“You can never go wrong with black. Black and textures.”

“Textures?” I ask.

“Sticking to a monochrome outfit and using different textures to make the look, you know?” Think Yves Klein. “Also, you’ve gotta have a good pair of sunglasses. Dark frames. You don’t want people to see your eyes.”

What’s crystal clear to Guffey are the machinations of a city that serves dually as Italy’s sartorial and financial capital.

“Of course, I knew that it was a fashion city, but I didn’t realize how heavily their economy relied on the actual manufacturing of designer clothing . . . When it comes to Milan Fashion Week, people are coming from all over the world trying to support these brands and stand out from the crowd, and get their photograph taken by anyone on the street. It’s very different from everyday Milanese style, but I feel like that’s kind of the beauty of it; it’s a celebration of these amazing Italian designers who have been around

for years and years and years styled in a completely new, modern way.”

If Chapel Hill is inundated with students and athleisure, Milan is a mecca for bankers and car coats, with fashion week being more of a “digestivo.”

“HONESTLY,

TBD.”

“I think it all just goes back to selling the dream to people who are going to buy the nylon bag, buy Chanel No. 5,” she said, ever the business student. In conversation with Guffey, one can’t help but think of Tom Ford’s most recent GQ profile, equally intuiting the commercial and the creative (we talked at length about Tom Ford).

here it’s just . . . I’d rather be in a big city where there’s all sorts of inspiration all around me rather than, I don’t know, at this school.”

The last row of Guffey’s feed is from her manual camera’s last go-around Milan. They depict friends, markets and monuments wistfully in black and white vignettes, notably more poignant than the technicolor soup a few scrolls down. Right before her interview, Guffey had dropped off a roll of film at Southeastern Camera, its negatives exclusively from her time back in Chapel Hill. I asked if the new film will be making it to the feed, or if its “aperitivo” is preserved in amber, a retrospective to look back on.

“That’s where most of these fashion brands’ sales come from, these niche things, which are perfumes and bags and shoes, but the clothes you see on the runway, that’s selling the dream, you know? And people get a taste of the dream by buying the bag that’s a few thousand rather than tens of thousands of dollars for a top.”

Finishing her last year back in Chapel Hill, Guffey’s proximity to the dream is again, at least for now, closer to the couture shows’ live streams of her youth than the cobblestones of Brera.

“My inspiration and my drive come from my surroundings. So here I’m like, this is my comfort, this is my home. I don’t feel as . . . I love all the fashion pictures I took. That was the peak of what I’ve always dreamed of, you know, editing and taking pictures of and getting to show my personality through the way that I take these pictures and the way that I edit them, but I feel like

“Honestly, TBD. I definitely want to continue to use my account, but I almost feel like right now where I am, being in Chapel Hill . . . I don’t want to say I’m less creative. It’s just that I’m not going out with my camera as much and stuff, but it does remind me that I need to find, remember, the small details and remember what I said earlier about trying to capture beauty from things that otherwise wouldn’t be beautiful.”

With that perspective, we can all surrender ourselves to la dolce vita, be it at Bar Quadronno or Battle Park.

The place to study fashion branding and marketing at UNC.

Photographed by Ira Wilder