Every day after school I would eat twelve to ffteen Totino’s pizza rolls and watch Avatar: The Last
I’d come home, take the big bag of rolls out of the freezer, place them in a neat 3x4 or 3x5 array on my little tray and pop them into the toaster oven. While I let the rolls cook, I’d take out my DVD box set of (as the cool kids call it), and put the disc into its player. The DVD menu would wait for me as I put on my Happy Holidays oven mitt, take out the tray of pizza rolls, and bring it to the family room so I could eat in front of the TV. I’d take my remote (the special one for the DVDs), search through the episode selection, and pick up where I left of. Maybe Aang in a headband would dance with Katara in front of a bunch of Fire Nation kids. Maybe Sokka would embark on a quasi-homoerotic adventure with an
This was my after-school routine as a high school sophomore. On Friday nights in high school, my mom and I would watch a movie at home, often a DVD she borrowed from the library of a movie that came out a few months before, intriguing enough to watch but not enough to buy a movie ticket. On the weekends my family would go to the mall, maybe the one in my hometown, whose stores are all closing one by one, or one of the nicer malls in neighboring towns. On Sundays after church, we’d have dim sum or soup dumplings or go to the local turo turo Filipino restaurant. If we wanted to get takeout, my dad would call the restaurant (“Hi, I’d like to order for pickup” said with the same tone and in ections every time and we’d drive over to the restaurant 15 to 20 minutes later to get our food and come back home.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but I guess we were pretty traditional consumers. I had never used a rideshare app until my family visited my bougie cousin in California a few years ago and there weren’t enough seats in her car. I’d never used a food delivery app until last year when my friend wanted to get Thai food but we didn’t have time to walk from campus to the restaurant and back. I used to be scared of buying Ram Van tickets, because I wasn’t accustomed to making online purchases (when I started freshman year I feared the Ram Van since I had no idea how the website worked).
I suppose now that I’m (somewhat) older and wiser, I’ve become more used to technology. But I still love when my mom brings home a new
DVD from the library. I still smile when I see my DVD box set in the drawer (ATLA’s on streaming now). When I’m done with my classes on campus and need something to eat, I still like calling ahead and picking up my food from the restaurant because at least I get to do a side quest that way. I guess I’m a creature of habit, and I ve always liked a good after-school routine.
Photographer: Wesley Scott
Models: Dylan Ayer, Megha
Verghese, Katie Turner
Stylist: Josh Mocklin
Makeup Artist: Sophia Cody
Layout: Genevieve Vanston
OUR OWN OUR OWN OUR OWN PAPARAZZI? ARE WE P
But isn’t this what we see on nearly every celebrity or infuencer’s own personal Instagram pages? While these individuals have the choice to post, infuencers are STILL feeding the public tons of information about their lives, their day-to-day, what they’re doing, and so much more. Many have even come under scrutiny for how much they reveal. I’ve seen celebrities dox themselves or reveal some much-too-personal information to an audience of millions. These issues are the same as many of the problems that arose about the paparazzi - but instead of photographers revealing this information for a hefty check, infuencers and celebrities have been revealing this information for engagement and personal income.
Written by Harmonie Chang
There are countless interviews and testimonials from the most photographed celebrities, stating how much they hate the constant worrying of someone snapping their photo without their knowledge and posting it online. People knowing their every move. People caring about the smallest details of their life.
With how fast this world is changing - a few years ago, it seemed impossible to rise to internet fame overnight and have to deal with these issues - it is plausible to see how such a common problem 20 years ago has also changed. These problems have adapted and changed just as technology has in the past two decades, and we should all be more aware of this as technology advances even faster.
Photography by Sophia Rivera-Korver
Makeup by Maddie Thompson
“The
“The New Normal of Tracking Loved Ones” “The New Normal of
Tracking Loved Ones”
New Normal of Tracking Loved Ones”
Written by Daniel Barrett
In a conversation about FindMyFriends — an app that allows you to track your friends and families' locations –– a friend of mine mentioned that she does not have her parents’ locations. This was the wildest thing I had ever heard. It’s almost expected for someone to have their parents' locations; I have my parents’ location, and they have mine; I have never once questioned otherwise. But, when you take a step back and refect, how weird is that? To think that the ability to track my loved ones with such convenience should be normalized and not contested… to fnd it weird not to have your parents’ locations. Personally, I think it is nice to have their location; being able to see and be seen ofers me solace. But again, maybe that’s crazy, that I almost feel entitled to watching my dad drive to work, my mom walk to the gym… even my dog has a tracker… and he doesn’t go anywhere.
WHERE ARE YOU?
How did this new sense of complete awareness happen? In the early 2000s, GPS tracking was nowhere near what it is today. At that time, such technology was the stuf of spy movies. It seems that this was the last time we had any sort of anonymity— or felt entitled to it. Now, all my friends view my stories, see my posts, and follow my location anytime on FindMyFriends or (the even more invasive) Life360— Of which I, like many others, have both.
What will happen to us, as our generation grows up, in particular once we start creating our families and lives and are accustomed to this sort of invasive knowledge of the people closest to us? Does this afect trust? Does it erode boundaries? How are we supposed to maintain healthy relationships when I can see how fast you’re driving on I-95 from my kitchen in the Bronx? It seems that our generation might have to redefne what trust means, less about the absence of secrets or constant availability and more about mutual respect for personal boundaries.
The collectable craze:
Author: Mia Barth
Do you remember how it felt to walk into Claire’s or Target and be drawn to those “blind bags” and collectible items such as Shopkins, Littlest Pet Shop, and My Little Ponies? Or, perhaps you were an avid collector of Pokemon Cards or mystery sports cards? The joy of opening those packages to reveal a rare fgurine was unmatched. This excitement is what makes collectibles so appealing, and now, a new craze has emerged: Sonny Angels. Collectibles have gained popularity for their surprise element and occasional rarity, making them exciting to purchase and open. As an example, priced at about $10 each, Sonny Angels are an easily-accessible choice for collectors. Social media has boosted the popularity of collectibles, connecting enthusiasts and showcasing collections–even celebrities like Bella Hadid and Victoria Beckham have shown of their Sonny Angels and the fun that comes with them.
like fruits, animals, and bakery They were created in 2004 by Toru “Sonny” Soeya, and were inspired by Kewpie dolls. There are over 500 to collect, including the rare Robby Angel, which has a 1 in 144 chance of being found, encouraging collectors to keep buying. With their slogan, “He may bring you happiness,” these adorable fgures aim to evoke the same joy that Shopkins and other childhood collectibles did. I vividly recall begging my parents for Shopkins and FunkoPop keychains and proudly showing them of at school, and Sonny Angels strive to bring that same happiness to both younger and older audiences.
Sonny Angels are cherub-inspired fgurines available in various categories
Collecting these fgures allows us to relive our childhood excitement and celebrate nostalgia. If you haven’t yet purchased a Sonny Angel, you can take a trip down to a “PIQ” or an “An.me” in New York, in addition to being able to purchase them online. Collecting these little angels might just brighten your day!
Illustrator: Lauren Walczyk
Layout: Cindy Liu
TheMagicof SchoolSupplies
Photographed by Meghan Cattani
Layout by Kate Dowd
Written by Moira Minnich
There’s a certain magic in back-to-school shopping that instantly transports us to the past, especially in our youth. Suddenly, you’re standing in the school supply aisle, running your ngers along rows of spiral notebooks and freshly sharpened pencils, the smell of new paper lling the air. As you walk down those aisles, the cart rattling beside you, every decision feels important. Should I go for the bright, colorful notebooks or sleek, minimalist ones now that I’m entering a new year? It may be time to embrace a more grown-up look. The smooth planner and dreams was intoxicating. Picking out highlighters and fresh gel pens felt like setting the stage for a year of endless potential.
Some school supplies weren’t just items but cultural icons of our childhood. Those late summer trips to Staples were more than just a checklist. They were about deciding who you would be that year, maybe even when we used to decorate our lockers (sometimes a bit too extensively). It wasn’t just about grabbing a binder but crafting your identity. The thrill of sliding colorful notebooks into your cart and running your hands over brand-new planners sparked excitement and the promise of a fresh start with every purchase. We’d rush home after watching YouTube hauls from Alisha Marie or Bethany Mota, eager to make those supplies our own. Back-to-school shopping was a ritual of self-expression, a way to feel prepared for the year ahead. Even now, thinking back to those moments brings a wave of nostalgia—when a trip to Staples made the entire school year feel full of promise.
Modeled by Moira Minnich, Ava Kokoros, Mike Duzich
Styled by Baba Sogbetun
Back to Basics: The “Vintage” Tech Resurgence in
a Hyper-Connected World
In today’s innovative and technological world, a certain trend has emerged of “vintage” technology making a comeback— particularly among Gen Z. It’s no secret that Gen Z has a fascination with the past, especially the decades between the 70s and the 2000s. In 2024, products like vinyl record players, flip phones, and wired headphones seem to be satisfying that nostalgic desire to merge the tangible past with the present. However, this revival begs the question: is it purely aesthetic, or is there something deeper at play?
Since Gen Z has grown up in the digital age, technology in our present day is not met with the same allure as it was by earlier generations (like millennials, for example). Because Gen Z is innately fluent in digital technologies, many individuals turn to analog devices in search of a more grounded, offline alternative. Embracing a certain digital minimalism creates a new way to respond to the overstimulating, feature-rich, artificially intelligent lifestyle of our modern society. Lifestylewise, wired headphones and flip phones are simply cheaper. Beyond the price tag, however, these devices reside in a counter-cultural position against the dominant tech culture. Thanks to a desire for individuality, a potential rebellion against relentless innovation, and counterculture historically appealing most to younger generations, it’s no surprise that Gen Z is totally enamored.
Since trends are cyclical, flip phones could be seen as a nod to the nostalgia of pop culture and entertainment of the 2000s, wired headphones could
be seen as a component of the Tumblr era resurgence, and record players could be seen as a revival of analog sound. But ultimately, these tactile experiences of media consumption offer a refreshing reminder to get offline. Whether for aesthetics, practicality, or commentary, the allure of “vintage” tech will continue to provide a nostalgic escapism in our evolving digital landscape.
Zombifying or Inspiring? The Art of Revival
Studying lost media isn’t just about nostalgia—it’s about preserving different eras’ artistic, technological, and aesthetic values. For example, restoring scenes shot on old cameras requires expertise in older technologies, much like fashion designers must study past styles to forecast new trends. Refreshing outdated looks requires an understanding of outdated techniques and materials. This process mirrors how fashion trends, like media, are cyclical. What was once outdated often returns with renewed appeal, altered to fit the contemporary needs of society. When old trends like wide-leg jeans resurface, it’s not a replica; it’s an adaptation of past styles to fit contemporary aesthetics and societal contexts. Media studies encompass the needs and demands of society for innovative products. Consider the MiniDisc, an artifact of the decade that laid the groundwork for the modern music experience. Though it died out, the concept of a portable music library influenced the design of digital players like the iPod, which later became integral to services like Apple Music. Similarly, wide-leg jeans, once a ‘90s staple, fell out of favor with the rise of form-fitting styles. Their loose and cumbersome fit made them outdated compared to the skinny jeans of 2010. However, they’ve resurged—reimagined to fit modern tastes with diverse styling options. The body positivity and diversity movements encouraged fashion to adapt, responding by reviving the wide-leg jean. Just as media evolves to meet new demands, fashion trends are reinterpreted to address contemporary needs, proving that both fields are interconnected in their responsiveness to societal changes. Both media and fashion archaeology involve reviving the past with a twist, respecting the original while innovating for the present. The resurgence of trends like Y2K fashion reveals the importance of preserving history—whether it’s media or clothing—as a wellspring of inspiration. Fashion and media restoration involves respect for the original elements and an innovative adaptation that fits modern society. Revival isn’t about looking back; it’s about finding fresh ways to bring the quirky, the forgotten, and the nostalgic into the now.
and alter-egos
BY SARAH ZAMPINO
Models: Rachel Erickson, Jenna
Vanston, and Colleen Bedingfeld
Photography, Illustrations and Layout: Elizabeth Sadler
Sometimes we wish we could enter a different body, or a different world. A place where we can be whoever we want, wear whatever we want, and act however we want. In a way, this is what the alternate universes of video games provide—we put on our headphones and enter the world illuminated on the screen in front of us.
Gen Z has been playing video games since our childhood. Older Gen Z individuals began with devices like the Wii, the Nintendo DS, or their computers. When we got home from school, we would excitedly log onto our favorite game, taking the identity of our customized usernames and avatars. In these games, we were able to be whoever we wanted. Our Miis could look just like us, or nothing like us if we wanted. Our MovieStarPlanet avatars could wear fishnets and have piercings, while we sat in front of the screen in our school uniform. Like in real life, the appearance of our avatars on these games affected the way that other users viewed us. The outfits we put on our avatars could show our personal style, or simply whether or not our parents paid for a VIP membership.
The way that this immersion into a virtual world has affected our generation has been the topic of psychological studies. The Proteus effect describes the phenomenon of embodying our avatars while interacting with others within the game, taking on traits we would expect them to have. Very often these avatars were idealized versions of ourselves, internally and externally. Even if they do not match exactly, research has shown that our behavior in video games can subconsciously affect our decisions in our daily lives. So, do our avatars from our childhood look like the people we are today?
Photos by Sophia Rivera-Korver models Kaitlin Rigley and Maddie Thompson
styling by Ciara Shore
makeup by Maddie Thompson
Photography by Meghan Cattani
Styled by Baba Sogbetun
Modeled by Moira Minnich, Ava Kokoros, and Mike Duzich
Extra! Read Ball
Extra! About It!
Written By Gri n Bilello
e last 20th and early 21st century goes down in history as having the best cinema and television of all time. However, all of these movies and shows only represented certain groups of people. Straight white stories ooded the screens, but how did anyone who didn’t t in this norm nd themselves and their people? Luckily, for many young queer BIPOC individuals, they were able to nd community among the ballroom scene.
Ballroom began in the 1920’s in Harlem. It was grown from drag culture and the underground scene that was created for mainly black queer individuals to express their fashion and personality. Many queer phenomena have come from the ballroom scene, most notably the art of voguing, where performers imitate poses from fashion runways.
e Miss All America Camp Beauty Contest in 1967 revolutionized the world of ballroom forever. Crystal LaBeija, black trans royalty of the NYC ballroom scene, received third runner-up in the contest, and she iconically walked o the stage in protest of the unfair restrictive beauty standards present at the time. A er this, the rst ballroom house, the legendary House of LaBeija, was born.
Shortly a er the Stonewall riots in 1969, Ballroom found a new wave of popularity when many other queer minorities realized the necessity to call out the prejudice within the queer community. Lots of other ballroom houses were created alongside the House of LaBeija, which created non-biological families and communities for many queer people for decades to come. Many queer people, who felt uncomfortable expressing themselves in their biological homes, and who were even disowned and rejected from their former communities, found a new belonging and purpose among the ballroom world.
Illustration and Layout By Caroline Abella
The Power Platonic Love Letters
Written by Andy Meeker
In my childhood bedroom, I have a box with love letters I received from two “secret admirers” during middle school. I dated both of them (at di erent times!) without – I’m embarrassed to confess – holding hands with either of them.
A er having my rst kiss with a boy on the same day as I got my driver’s license, I embraced my queerness. ough no love letters were exchanged during my teen years, I still expressed my appreciation for my friends with gusto. Fueled by lockdown-induced cabin fever, I wrote long letters to friends on my late grandmother’s typewriter and mailed them out. ese felt miles more vulnerable than any text.
I loved my friends plenty during high school, so I don’t lose sleep over missing out on a Heartstopper-esque queer teen romance. However, I grieve for the bright-eyed, naïve boy I was when I entered college. He went on to write love letters of his own, but heartbreak also hit him hard.
While I now guard my heart with armor, I protect my friends with equal fervor. Being queer, my friends are my chosen family because we understand deep parts of each other’s identities. Words of a rmation express my appreciation for them, so I am a fervent believer in the power of a platonic love letter. Telling my friends why they are special is a gi , and something about the tangibility of a pen and paper can make such a message all the more meaningful. ey by no means have to be dramatic and can easily be informal – you never know how much a love note on a Post-It could make a friend’s day.
I am a man with giant feelings that o en overwhelm me, but setting aside time to re ect on what the relationships in my life mean to me is incredibly grounding. Don’t be afraid of being sappy with your friends – it’s not cringey; it’s upli ing!
Photography by Cayden Reich Modeled by Amy Herd Styling by Warda Hassan Layout by Caroline Abella
photography by Emma Joa
modeled by Kelly Cimaglia, Lainey Nguyen, and Kamalani Soriano
modeled by J Huxtable
styled by Makena Monaco
makeup by Audrey Hoffman
photography by Wesley Scott
styled by Ciara Shore makeup by Nicole Castaneda photography by Lainey Nguyen modeled by Tara Costano, Kathryn Koness, and Sarah Larrea
