The Dartmouth 01/30/19

MIR ROR 1.30.19

DIAMONDS ARE A GIRL'S BEST FRIEND |2

NOT YOUR AVERAGE HUMAN | 4-5

TO ALL THE FRACKETS I'VE LOST BEFORE | 6 BELLA JACOBY/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

2 //MIRR OR

Editors’ Note

Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend STORY

MICHAEL LIN/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

If you are like us and refuse to throw things away — notes from math class freshman fall (what if you need to know how to do u-substitution one day?), trinkets won at late night trivia, ticket stubs for movies long forgotten about — you’re probably used to unearthing some hidden gems every now and then from the piles stacked high on your desk and shelves. A bandana from Trips makes for some good flair, that poster your friends made you for your birthday cheers you up on a rainy day, the blanket your mom gave you reminds you of home. Even on campus, hidden gems manifest in the alternative study spots that we end up being possessive over and the obscure bathrooms around campus that we love to frequent.

This week, the Mirror explores the hidden gems of Dartmouth — a senior explains what the Jewelry Studio has become for her, we speak to the enigmatic professor who’s teaching one of Dartmouth’s largest classes and we sit down with some of Dartmouth’s most eccentric individuals. Hidden gems are all around us — we just have to take the time to find them.

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1.30.19 VOL. CLXXV NO. 123 MIRROR EDITORS NIKHITA HINGORANI CAROLYN ZHOU ASSOCIATE MIRROR SARAH ALPERT EDITORS NOVI ZHUKOVSKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF ZACHARY BENJAMIN INTERIM PUBLISHER VINAY REDDY EXECUTIVE EDITOR AMANDA ZHOU

By Nelly Mendoza-Mendoza

The Donald Claflin Jewelry Studio was founded in 1966 and is a very unique workshop among colleges and universities. Jeff Georgantes, director of the studio of 14 years, says that to his knowledge, no other academic institution has a professionallymanaged jewelry studio open to all students, regardless of major. Yearly, the studio works with approximately 700 to 900 students, who attend open studio hours, special workshops and programming with academic departments (such as students making instruments for an engineering class).

This is also the place I have called my second home for the past four years. It is here where I learned how to make jewelry and where I became interested in the arts. I can’t believe that my time at the jewelry studio, a place where I have gone almost every week since I started college, is coming to an end.

It was freshman fall, sometime in October of 2015, when I first walked into the jewelry studio, located downstairs in the Hopkins Center for the Arts. I was with a friend, and she suggested we stop by the jewelry studio — I do not remember what I said to her. We made a copper bracelet together. The next thing I remember is that I kept coming back because I was working on a ring with a stone setting, and I somehow always managed to start another project as I was trying to finish the prior. After a few weeks of making jewelry, I started working there as a teaching assistant once a week.

Four years later, I am still making jewelry. So much at Dartmouth seems to have remained the same, yet everything has changed. All of the older student assistants have graduated, and I have drastically changed my hair color numerous times. Change can be scary for everyone. Although many things have changed since I started college, the

studio has remained one of the most start a project. There is no expectation relaxing and invigorating places on for you to know anything about jewelry, campus for me. It still is a place where simply the willingness to try something I can be myself and explore other sides new and walk in through the door. of my creativity that I am not always Unlike in the classroom, students able to use someplace else. receive no grades or credit for any of Now, in my fourth year as a jewelry their work. There is no need to worry teaching assistant, I’ve seen many about making something perfect or — dozens, if not hundreds — other finishing something by a certain time. students also gain an appreciation And, the studio cultivates personal for the jewelry studio. I asked studio interaction and getting to know others. director Jeff Georgantes, who has Even though a lot of the work is done become my mentor, about his favorite individually, there is always space for part about working at the studio; he students to get to know each other and said it is seeing students grow and learn what others are working on. getting to know them over time.

Learning how to make jewelry I feel similarly to Jeff. I have met has changed the way I see how many people at the studio who have become different objects are made. Jewelry close friends, with has taught me whom I share ideas how to pause “The next thing I and whom I look more often and up to. I’ve had remember is that I pay attention to the chance to get kept coming back how things go to know them for together. longer than one because I was working

Details term — people on a ring with a can be so easy who perhaps I to overlook stone setting, and would have never because we met because I I somehow always are so used to was in Silsby for managed to start an overload economics classes, o f i n s t a n t and they were in another project as I i n fo r m at i o n Kemeny for math was trying to finish the through our lectures. screens. Thus, prior.”

When I asked I cherish each Jeff why students time I get the come back to the chance to pay studio, he said it is because of the strong attention to the fine details of a community. The studio is by far one of precious gem or metal. There is the closest-knit groups I have been part something magical about imagining of at Dartmouth. Students and staff an idea and then bringing it to appreciate each other regardless of our life. Creativity is something very differences because we enjoy making underrated and we limit ourselves things and working with everything to only doing things that we believe ranging from fire to microscopes. have practical ends. It is extremely Students learn and work on what rewarding to step outside of your they are interested in, whether that comfort zone and discover more about is making a ring for a class project or who you are. It does not always have making a gift for Mother’s Day. This is to be school work or activities planned one of the most appealing aspects of minute-by-minute. the studio: you can simply walk in and There are so many ways to get involved in these sorts of experiences.

For example, next to the jewelry studio are the Woodshop and the Ceramic Studio. These two spaces are also part of the Student Workshops. So much can be easily missed in Dartmouth’s 10-week term.

Perhaps now you can see a glimpse of why the jewelry studio has been my favorite place on campus and one of the most important parts of my education at Dartmouth. Although I receive no academic credit for my work, it has been instrumental in shaping my interests and sparking pursuits in subjects such as design and business. You can probably guess what the first thing I look at when I go to a museum is or what pictures I have cut out from magazines. I would not have guessed that four years ago. But I am glad that this is who I am now.

BELLA JACOBY/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

MIRROR //3

Seven Treasures of Rauner Special Collections Library STORY

By Maggie Doyle

Rauner Special Collection Library is, in a way, its own hidden gem. It’s not one of the more popular study spaces on campus, because of its limited space and hours, but it houses a plethora of rare and valuable artifacts most Dartmouth students, myself included, know nothing about. In honor of the hidden gems theme this week, I walked into Rauner and asked the librarians to show me a few of their favorite hidden gems. Here is what I found:

book from 15th century France, likely used by a rich merchant or lower-level noble. The book is a testament to the elegant detail and artistry of the time, as it is detailed with gold ink that is real gold. This book, like other prayer books, was a status symbol more than anything else, signifying literacy. The book of hours is filled with elaborate and unique artwork, bound blue in velvet, and the sections are separated by red satin.

The Book of Mormon The original edition of the Book of Mormon is housed in Rauner Special Collections Library. This is the first edition of the book, published in 1830, which Joseph Smith claims to have translated directly from the plates left in his yard by the angel Moroni.

Smith, the founder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, was born in Sharon, Vermont. Thousands of visitors travel to his birthplace every year, and many stop by Rauner to see the book in person, making the Book of Mormon one of Rauner’s most requested items.

George Washington Collection Rauner has boxes filled with personal correspondence from George Washington to Elezar Wheelock, Thomas Jefferson and more. The paper pictured, however, is not a letter.

Entitled “Mensuration of Solids,” this is a mathematical exercise completed by thirteen-year-old Washington in 1745. Also enclosed in the collection is a letter from Washington to the Dartmouth College Board of Trustees, in which he writes, “That your labor may be crowned with success, and render you happy in its consequences, is my sincere prayer.”

Book of hours (Livre d’Heures) The book of hours is a Latin prayer

Dartmouth College Beanies Although the name may sound like

these hats were a way of keeping warm in the cold New Hampshire winters, or perhaps of making a fashion statement, these caps had a slightly more sinister purpose: hazing. Freshmen at the College, from 1911 to 1973, wore these hats to self-identify as freshmen, so upperclassmen knew whom to haze.

If one was caught without their hat on, the hazing was exponentially worse.

Freshmen were allowed to take off their hats once they’d won a game of tug of war against the sophomores, or mid-November, whichever came first.

Horn Horning, the practice of literally blowing a loud horn outside of someone’s house, was once used by Dartmouth students for expressing discontent. This practice was mostly aimed at faculty who had given students either an excessive workload or bad grades.

TheOriginalMarkupof Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer The original story of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was written by Robert May ’26 as a promotional item for various stores to give to kids who came to see Santa Claus. May’s boss

EMMA LANGFITT/THE DARTMOUTH

at the Montgomery Ward Company originally turned down his idea, so May went to an artist friend, Denver Gillen, and asked him to mock up the story. Gillen did so informally, in crayon. May’s boss loved it, and the rest is history.

The Berlin Wall This Rauner gem is so hidden that neither librarian at Rauner was aware

of its existence until I asked for it. This tiny block of cement was once a part of the wall separating East and West Germany. No one has any record of how a piece of the Berlin Wall ended up at Dartmouth, except that it is kept in an envelope reading “For A World Without Walls – Happy Holidays, 1989 from the Soviet American Review! (A piece of the Berlin Wall enclosed.)”

4// MIRROR

Not Your Average Hum STORY

By Claire Callahan

COURTESY OF CHRISTOPHER CARTWRIGHT

Inspired by photos from Rauner Library of toboggan runs built by the Dartmouth Outing Club during Winter Carnival, Christopher Cartwright '21 built a luge in the BEMA.

D a r t m o u t h p e o p l e a r e obvious, though, like “the unicycle intimidating. First-day-of-class kid” we all see around campus, icebreakers making his way from o f t e n l e a d "It's pretty cool — class to class in style. to awkward Inspiration doesn’t s i t u a t i o n s , that's undeniable. have to come from like when you It's a bit faster than deep, heavy morality provide the sometimes, a little walking and it keeps — fun fact that quirk is all you need. you have a dog my feet dry when it's “ I t ’s p re t t y named Milo rainy." c o o l — t h a t ’s and the person undeniable,” Alex across from Wells ’22 laughed. you responds -ALEX WELLS '22, THE He’s wearing a neck with her brace, but is very "UNICYCLE KID" discovery of a clear that it is not dwarf planet. from a unicycle I’ve had moments of doubt about accident. “It’s a bit faster than what I bring to Dartmouth, but when walking and it keeps my feet dry I’m discussing feminist philosophy when it’s rainy.” over mediocre Even though he waffles at doesn’t remember "It has become Class of 1953 asking for it, Wells Commons, I’m the one thing that got the unicycle simply grateful. people know me as for Christmas in I’m here, and I’ll 2012, and it soon be here whether and recognize me as transformed into a I choose to fret doing, though most hobby he loves. about my worth “It’s everything of them probably or just soak in my I could’ve hoped it sur roundings don't know my would be in college,” and let them name."

Wells said. “It has inspire me. become the one thing I choose the that people know me latter. Luckily -ALEX WELLS '22, THE as and recognize me as for me, there doing, though most of "UNICYCLE KID" is no shortage them probably don’t of secretly know my name.” inspiring Christopher students all around me.

Cartwright ’21 is creating a name Some of them are a little more for himself as someone who makes

creative, fun outdoor things happen.

His most recent endeavor was the creation of a luge in the Bema.

“For winter car nival, the [Dartmouth Outing Club] used to build these toboggan runs down at the football stadium off the

bleachers,” Cartwright said. “I saw old photos of that in Rauner and thought we could do something sort of similar.”

At first it was only Cartwright and a friend, but more people soon started to trickle in. Videos were sent out to

spread the word and routes were set up for people to follow.

Though Cartwright has had success, getting students excited and mobile is a common problem with event organizers. Agnes Ugoji ’22 is trying to recruit more people for Soul Scribes, the slam poetry group at Dartmouth.

“I started writing in seventh grade mainly because I was really sad and I was bullied,” she said. “It was a really good way of dealing with those feelings that I didn’t know how to talk to anyone about.”

Ugoji thinks slam poetry has a unique power as an art form.

“There’s this engagement that can happen,” she said. “If someone says something that is engaging to you, you can respond back.”

Ugoji also remarked on how she just wants to bring people together, ruminating on the uniting powers of slam poetry’s emotional vulnerability.

“I may not have class with everyone but at least I have some type of connection,” she said.

Similarly, when I asked Cartwright why he loved planning these big events so much, after much consideration, he landed on the reason why: He likes “getting groups together to do things.” Its simplicity made me smile.

My interview with the horticulturalist Dan DiPietro ’22 brought me back to those intimidating icebreakers. This time, however, I didn’t feel panicked — I

COURTESY OF CHRISTOPHER CARTWRIGHT

Only Cartwright and a friend began building the luge, but soon after other students joined in on the snowy fun.

MIRROR //5

mans of Dartmouth felt in the presence of something special. His love of plants all started in preschool, when his mother would take him out to lunch at a nearby botanical garden.

Fast forward to college, and DiPietro is a carnivorous plant horticulturalist. He funded his own greenhouse at home, where he has about 1,000 carnivorous plants of 100 species, some of which he brought to Dartmouth’s greenhouse.

He gave a guest lecture at Princeton University, and he and his friend have written a manuscript about their field research in the New Jersey Pinelands and submitted it to Cornell University in hopes of publication.

Even though I’m not a biology person, I decided to check out Dartmouth’s corpse flower when it bloomed in November. It turns out that DiPietro was responsible for pollinating the plant after it had bloomed.

“We actually had a bit of a dilemma with the corpse flower, actually,” DiPietro said. “It has both male and female flowers, so it’s technically possible to self-pollinate, but the male flowers don’t release the pollen until the female flowers would already need to be pollinated.”

COURTESY OF DAN DIPIETRO

DiPietro, pictured above sitting in a bog, keeps a greenhouse back at home, where he studies around 1,000 canivorous plants of 100 species.

COURTESY OF DAN DIPIETRO

Dan DiPietro '22, a carnivorous plant horticulturalist, helped pollinate Dartmouth's corpse flower after it bloomed.

I very intelligently declared that to He’s actually — a big surprise to me be an evolutionary (big word!) flaw. after 15 minutes of plant talk — not However, DiPietro informed me that even a biology major. the corpse flower was designed this “My end goal career-wise way to get cross-pollinated, since would be some kind of technology cross-pollinated offspring tend to entrepreneurship where I have my be more vigorous. My mistake. He own company or product,” DiPietro was able to solve this problem at said.

Dartmouth’s greenhouse by using a Wells also has other aspirations. method he used at home.

“There are people who make their “I grow this genus of plants called whole careers out of unicycling, but Heliamphora, that’s probably not which basically "After the luge, going to be me,” do the same Wells said. t h i n g , ” people said, 'Oh my A s f o r DiPietro said. gosh, that was so Car t wr i gh t , h e “I cut off the the idea of fun.' It helps knowing likes male flowers being known as the [of the corpse people were enjoying fun, spontaneous f lower] and it. It helps keep me events guy. extracted the “After the luge, pollen from going." people said, ‘Oh them before it my gosh, that was so was technically fun,’” Cartwright -CHRISTOPHER released and said. “It helps u s e d i t t o CARTWRIGHT '21 knowing people pollinate the were enjoying it. flower.”

It helps keep me T h e going.” previous method of self-pollination All of these students — unicyclist, that people had used for corpse event planner, slam poet and flowers yielded less than 5 percent horticulturalist — are just a small pollination. DiPietro’s? One sample of the people who make hundred percent. this college what it is. Summed Unsurprisingly, DiPietro thinks up, ever so eloquently, in terms of that most everyone can get something the unicycle: another addition to out of visiting the greenhouse, where the fun, quirky, flair-esque-ness of he is now the carnivorous collection Dartmouth. manager. I asked DiPietro how he feels being known as “the plant guy.”

Cartwright is a former member of The He said he doesn’t carry that title. Dartmouth.

6 //MIR ROR

To All The Frackets I’ve Lost Before STORY

By Alexa DiCostanzo

Nothing about fracket-stealing culture makes sense to me. (In case you’re late to the party, a fracket is a cheap second coat brought to frats, in anticipation of it being doused in beer or stolen.) Why is it that I can leave my $1,500 MacBook Air sitting in an abandoned library basement for six hours, perfectly assured nobody will touch it, but I can’t enter a fraternity with a cheap fleece on my back without fearing it’ll disappear 20 minutes after I toss it over the nearest couch? Each week, I invariably find myself several beers deep, barely holding it together enough to engage in the Olympic sport of tying five jackets together with every sailor’s knot in the book, stuffing it under an inconspicuous piece of furniture and hoping thieves are too drunk or lazy to start pulling up floorboards or moving heavy furniture. How could it be so easy to enter a fraternity common room during an on-night and make off with expensive articles of clothing? What are the legal risks for this kind of petty theft, and why is it that nobody seems threatened by them? And most importantly of all, where do the stolen jackets even go?

These questions started churning in my mind like fresh butter three weeks ago, after watching a close friend sink to the floor of Theta Delta Chi fraternity with her head in her arms. She had come upstairs and realized her jacket was nowhere to be found. I unhelpfully searched under some couch cushions while she frantically dialed her mother in Rwanda to break the news that someone had stolen her coat with her passport in the pocket. We had been at Pine earlier in the evening; she had carried her passport with her because, as international student, it was her only valid form of ID and she had to order a drink. Now it was gone. If it was indeed stolen, this would pose an enormous problem for her: while applying for a new passport is easy, applying for a visa is not. Foreigners are required to visit a U.S. Embassy to acquire a U.S. visa. Because there are no U.S. embassies within the United States, international students are required to travel abroad to obtain the appropriate documentation. So, to be abundantly clear: my friend would potentially need to file a police report in Hanover, leave campus on a weekend, travel to Canada, post up in a hotel, camp out in front of the embassy to beat the line, reapply for a passport and visa, and pay for all of it out of her own pocket. She would have to suffer through a drawn out, expensive bureaucratic nightmare because just because somebody in TDX was cold, thought her jacket was cute or thought it would make

a good gift for her sister.

Really?

Dartmouth’s fracket culture is a relatively modern phenomenon. Ask an alum from the 1970’s or 80’s, and they will tell you that back in their day, things were much different. When I asked my dad, a ’78, he said he could not remember anyone having their jackets stolen at a fraternity in his day. Nowadays, though, visiting a fraternity common room after 1:30 a.m. makes for a grim sight. That late in the night, Dartmouth’s vicious jacket-stealing cycle is in full swing.

The first thieves apparently set the domino effect in motion early in the night. The closer the clock moves toward 2 a.m., the less likely students are to leave fraternities in their own clothing. One recent Saturday, I watched as groups of partygoers emerged from a basement as the night drew to a close. As they made preparations for the inevitable Late Night Collis sojourn, the common room began to fill with a familiar chorus: “Are you [expletive] kidding me?” “Ohhh jeez,” “Exactly what I was trying to avoid tonight,” “Guys …” “Oh my god, no,” “I swear I put it here!” and “[shaking head] No respect for society.” Some girls tried on an array of untouched jackets (bright lemonade pink-and-yellow, then olive green, then black) before giving up, shrugging out of them and leaving the fraternity in their crop tops. Other students, after realizing their coats were gone, began listlessly searching through the room: in corners, on couches, behind broken shelves and under piles of debris.

One guy rapidly opened and closed every desk drawer in the immediate vicinity. Another checked inside a refrigerator, just in case.

It is surprising that current legal repercussions fail to provide a strong enough deterrent to students looking

to steal valuable items. Safety and Security officers are required to investigate every reported incident of theft, and they will certainly show up at your door if someone has reasonable suspicion you made off with their Canada Goose. Despite the fact that jacket theft is relatively low-stakes, low-priority criminal behavior compared to, say, sexual assault, the possible ramifications are serious. If arrested for larceny (theft) of goods valued over $1,000, it is a felony charge and makes you eligible for up to one year and one day in prison, according to Keysi Montás, interim director of the department of Safety and Security. (A nicer jacket with an iPhone tucked in its front pocket easily falls beyond this $1,000 threshold).

There are, fortunately, some success stories. Some people are able to recover their stolen belongings, and their narratives provide clues into the life of a jacket after someone plucks it off the floor of Gamma Delta Chi fraternity. Olivia Marquis ’22 shared one such story. A couple weeks ago, she and her friends tied their coats together before descending into an unnamed fraternity basement to dance away the stress of the week. At the end of the night, they discovered the chain had been untied. Naturally, one jacket was missing. The group of friends tore the room apart, because there had been an ID, phone and keys in the pocket, too. This was no fracket, either — it was a proper winter coat, expensive and distinct.

An iPhone had been zipped up inside, and this turned out to be a blessing in disguise. “We decided to do Find my iPhone, and it worked,” Marquis said. Together, the group of friends tracked the signal to a dorm in the River. When they arrived, a male student opened the door and presented them with the stolen

ALEXA DICOSTANZO/THE DARTMOUTH

Nelly Mendoza-Mendoza ’19 labels her fracket in preparation for a night out.

phone, ID and keys.

“What about the jacket?” Marquis remembered her friend asking.

“My other friend has it,” was the student’s answer: “She took it and gave me all the stuff inside of it to turn it in.” When Marquis’s friends demanded his friend return the coat, too, the male student hesitated. He hemmed and hawed. Finally, he dialed the number of a girl who lived nearby — the thief, presumably — and told her, “The people whose jacket you took are here. They want it back.”

“Do I have to?” the girl whined. It was difficult to persuade her, Marquis admitted. But the girl eventually acquiesced, after the male student reminded her there was a winter storm coming and she had stolen someone’s only heavy coat. When Marquis and her friends arrived at the girl’s dorm, they found she had thrown the jacket outside and locked the door.

“She didn’t answer any knocks or anything,” Marquis recalled. “But she did give it back, which I feel like

is pretty rare.”

A couple days later my Rwandan friend recovered her coat, passport safely undisturbed in the pocket. A friend had got in touch and informed it her it had been found in a dorm room. I can’t help but wonder if the results would have been as peachy if my friend had not been someone who, at times, seems to know everyone at Dartmouth. It is certainly comforting to know that some people here have a conscience. But the fact remains that each week an enormous number of students find themselves quite literally stripped of hundreds of dollars of personal property for simply participating in the school’s social scene. Our community is one founded on mutual respect and trust, and I feel the ways we look out for each other all the time. Someone selflessly sends the entire class their study guide, a good Samaritan buys coffee for the entire KAF line, you don’t touch my laptop when I vanish from the Stacks for four hours. Why is it, then, that jackets are any different?

HEDER HAYAT/THE DARTMOUTH

MIRROR //7

Dartmouth Wears Prada STORY

By Katie Cline

I first heard about Comparative Literature 42.01, “Prada, Chanel, Ferrari: History and Literature” during the tail end of this past fall term. Long enough into the term that I’d begun to feel that itch: the one that you feel when you have just finished midterms and major projects, but have yet to begin finals. The calm before the storm, a lull right before things get crazy, prompts me to start looking at the course timetable for next term. Fantasizing about classes that I didn’t currently have to worry about, the escapism trickled into conversations with friends. Soon, our mumbled grievances during rushed meals turned into almost giddy, romanticized exploration of courses we didn’t have to do work for yet.

Somewhere along the way, appearing almost out of nowhere, the mythos of “Prada” was created, and it was felt everywhere on campus. As soon as course selection period began, the class filled up instantaneously, perhaps based on the assumption that it was graded entirely on attendance and four pop quizzes. The class limit was increased from 30 to 60, then again to 200. On the first day of winter term, not accounting for unregistered attendees hoping to get off the waitlist, the class numbered somewhere around 230 people.

As a current student in “Prada,” I wanted to dissect the mystery that this class presents. Why did people become so infatuated with it before the previous term had even ended? To answer this question and more, I spoke to comparative literature professor Graziella Parati, the woman behind the curtain. A graduate of Università Statale di Milano, Italy and recipient of a Master of Arts degree from the University of Washington and a Ph. D. from Northwestern University, Parati has the knowledge that transcends boundaries of a single discipline.

This course has garnered enormous attention at Dartmouth. Do you think there is a reason for that?

GP: I am very surprised about that.

I don’t know whether it is the title or if it is really the content of the class. I am actually glad it has gained so much attention. There are a few classes on campus which are really big. One is a class on Game of Thrones and some of Randall Balmer’s classes — I think he’s teaching one on revolution right now. I’m happy, I’m absolutely happy.

I’m also very happy that there are so many men in the class. I’m interested in seeing these aesthetic concerns that are also among men and not only women. Because that’s what I thought, I thought I would have 80 percent women and 20 percent men, but that’s not the case. There are many

more than I thought there would be.

Have you taught this course in the past?

GP: This is the second time I’ve taught it. The first time I had something like 130 students, something like that. This is so much bigger. It’s almost twice as big as the first time. We’ll see how it evolves, and also how the content evolves, because every time I need to change what is in the class.

Did you feel like you had to change, due to the size of the class, the material or the way in which the material was presented?

I changed, in particular, the content and looking at more case studies. In fact, this time we’re looking at Latino fashion and Muslim fashion. Last time we went on for longer, working on the theoretical side, theoretical approaches to the material. And so we only did, last time, Muslim fashion. So I’ll probably go in that direction, in revising it for the next time. I’d like to have a section on hair, which I think may appeal to a lot of people because it’s connected to political and social issues.

Is knowing the history of fashion necessary in understanding contemporary fashion?

GP: Absolutely, absolutely. Fashion is not something that gets created one morning. It carries upon itself traditions that come before and that can resurface. I like to look at the past to show the conjunction between aesthetics, history and social issues. It is a lot easier to start with looking at what is done, what is in the past, and then look at what is happening today.

We will still work on the social issues and fashion in a few weeks when we bring it to the 20th century.

Because the terms are so short, is there anything that you weren’t able to bring into this course that you wish you could have?

GP: Yes. What would be ideal is to have, first of all, a very accurate historical approach to fashion, and then devote a large amount of time to the 20th century. Everything has to be compressed somehow. The historical part is shrunk, the case study part is shrunk, it’s difficult. It’s difficult to go into depth in a subject with only nine weeks.

You’ve done work surrounding Italian migration. Do you feel that social and political change often folds into fashion?

GP: Well, in a different way. Certainly, in a different way. Also, because when I work on migration, I work

on what is happening right now in the Mediterranean. If we approach the course on fashion, it is devoted to a much larger period of time. But it is certainly very interesting that working on migration will develop from some kind of research on autobiography that I was doing 25 years ago. And an interest in fashion has developed from an interest in material culture and its history. What I like is to see how interest that develops as sort of an aside to my academic work then gets folded into what I do on campus and what I do in my research.

What made you decide to teach a fashion course?

GP: Well, I’ve always been interested in the aesthetics of everyday life.

I’ve always asked myself particular questions that also relate to what students wear in one campus and wear in another campus. So when I came to Dartmouth, all of my students would come to class with the Dartmouth sweatshirt, and I thought that was a peculiar choice. I was coming from Northwestern, where none of the students would show up to class with the college’s sweatshirt. So there are questions about choices in everyday life that were really interesting to me, and

how they impacted the relationships between people on campus. It started out with very, very simple questions, and then it developed into an interest that is pretty much global.

Is there a particular reason you decided to come to snowy Hanover?

GP: They offered me a job. That was a good thing. I was very lucky in my career because I was still writing my dissertation when Dartmouth made me a job offer. I have been here for a very long period of time because Dartmouth is a very good place to be as a researcher. Nothing is in the way of exploring in all directions, wherever you want to go. I started out as somebody who worked on gender issues and autobiography. I am now working on migration studies, and I moved into a field that concerns the humanities, sociology and geography.

It’s wonderful to have the utmost freedom in the research choices that one makes. And I’ve had offers, but either they came at the wrong time or they were not the right ones. And I’m still here. I’ve been here for 28 years, which is a very, very long time.

If you were to create a class,

a passion project, aside from fashion, what would it be?

GP: It’s an interesting question. I do teach courses on topics I’m very passionate about. Fascism, for example.

I think this is a good time to keep a conversation about fascism going and really knowing where the roots of the movement were. I pretty much teach courses I really want to teach. What would I teach? Well, I would teach more courses on migration issues, for sure, because I feel the urgency of bringing this conversation to every student. I am getting more and more involved with art. It would be great to teach a course that deals with the everyday use of art. But I’m not in art history and I’m not in studio art, so I wonder how I could package it so I wouldn’t invade other people’s territory.

Is there anything else you’d like to mention?

GP: It is a total pleasure to teach this class. It’s exciting to see how many students are interested in it. But also a personal investment I have in it, it is quite rewarding, I think.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.

8// MIRROR

A Ray of Sunshine PHOTO

By Alison Zeng