Recognized in Spring 2012, YOURMAG ’s goal is to promote knowledge of the magazine industry by giving students the opportunity to be responsible for all aspects of a monthly lifestyle publication. With an audience of urban college students in mind, members create content across a broad range of topics and mediums, including style, romance, music, pop culture, personal identity, and experiences. YourMag’s overarching aim is to foster a positive, inclusive community of writers, editors, and artists.
volume 22 | issue 1 | OCTOBER 2024
HAILEY KROLL
Managing Editor
ALEKS CARNEY
Creative Director
Siena Yocum
Asst. Creative Director
REBECCA CALVAR
Art Director
JULIA MAGDZIAK Co-Head Stylist
ANNA BACAL PETERSON Co-Head Stylist
SEBASTIAN OLIVO YMTV Director
PALOMA CASTRILLO
Asst. YMTV Director
SASHA GAYKO
Asst. YMTV Director
GRIFFIN WILLNER Editor-in-Chief
MOLLY DEHAVEN Co-Head Designer
LAUREN MALLETT Co-Head Designer
ISABELLE GALGANO Editorial Director
Emilie Dumas Photo Director
ARUSHI JACOB A&E Editor
ISABELLA CASTELO Living Editor
Lucy Latorre Web Editor
GRAY GAILEY Asst. Web Editor
SYDNEY SWANN Diversity Chair
SOPHIE HARTSTEIN Copy Chief
IZZIE CLAUDIO Head Proofreader
VARA GIANNAKOPOULOS Romance Editor
ELLA MORDARSKI Style Editor
VIVIAN NGUYEN Social Media Director
COLETTE ROGERS Asst. Social Media Director
LEO LUKASZEVICZ Marketing Manager
NATHAN KAHN Asst. Marketing Manager
Copy editors: Callie Liberatos, Payton Montaina, Aylin Isik, Madison Lucchesi, Kyleigh Wanzelak
Proofreaders: Isaiah Flynn, Hailey Kroll, Madison Lucchesi
ROMANCE
Love 101: Juggling Hearts and Homework
Lessons About Love I Learned Through My Hair
Liberté From Prudeness
EDITORIAL
Heart on Your Sleeve
Sincerely Candid
The Healing Power of Consumerism
Boredom as Beauty
STREET STYLE
EDITORIAL
Spiraling
Halloween Blackout
Flashes of Home
Dear ED: A Letter to my Eating Disorder
Cosmos
Hit Us Baby One More Time What Happened To veronica Roth After Divergent?
Old (Unoriginal) Hollywood
SONGS for sitting on the terrace at the after party
LettersfromtheEditors
For the last three and a half years, I have had the honor and privilege of working under various roles at YourMagazine. Browning leaves fell under snows from harsh Boston winters before melting and sprouting tiny flowers across the Boston Public Gardens. I have written, edited, and proofread so many pieces under the YourMag name that I have begun to view this organization, this community, as a part of my brain. When I had the opportunity to become the Editor-in-Chief, the role seemed like a shooting star soaring at the end of my undergraduate window. And though I only have one semester in this new role, it is an honor to end where my writing career in Boston began.
Love in perpetuity, Griffin Willner
Joining YourMagazine on a whim my first semester freshman year, I had no idea I would be in this position: writing my first ever Editor’s Letter for the same publication just three years later. I started as an Assistant Head Designer and worked my way to Head Designer, which has left me with this final role to fill as Managing Editor. This feels like the beginning of the end for me at YM, and with that I feel prepared to give every part of myself to our wonderful team over this next year. Being a part of this magazine has evolved my love for not only graphic design, but the entire publication process. The intricate attention and care for the small details is what makes this feel like magic. Thank you for contributing your magic, whether you’re a writer, copy editor, artist, photographer, designer, proofreader, or even just a reader. We would be nothing without you. We are yours, after all.
Sincerely yours,
Hailey Kroll
We often imagine our lives and our memories in black and white. The truth of the matter is that life is a contradiction, a broad and extending grayscale. It only seems fitting for our first publication of Fall 2024 to be an aesthetic first; this edition is our first magazine entirely in grayscale. We hope to display works and textures that play in the gray as we put ourselves back into the box of college. October is a time for darkness!
Within these pages, we navigate romance through each strain of our hair, through the tumultuous battles of schoolwork and time management, and through our understandings of nudity through different cultures. Our style section grapples with themes of identity and freedom, presenting fashion as a form of self-care, and paying homage to our childhoods where photographs were meant to portray personhood rather than perfection. Our arts and entertainment writers remind us of once-loved authors, deconstructing the bad girl aesthetic from Marilyn Monroe to Charli XCX, and questioning our culture’s obsession with nostalgia. Finally, we crawl into our writer’s brains in the living section to hear stories of mental illness, homesickness, and neurological disorders.
The grayscale of this edition challenged our photographers, directors, artists, and designers to work only in tones of black and white, darkness and light. Our editorials memorialize a feeling akin to old Hollywood. Our YMP3 playlist plays vinyl on the terrace as we walk down a spiraling staircase. Artists portray characters in love, in pain, and in togetherness. And as the gloomy chapter of fall begins, we allow ourselves to feel and express in every single shade. Though we are back in the box, we have no choice but to reach through the bars for something more. We are thrilled to share this time of change with you!
LOVE 101: Juggling Hearts and Homework
WRITTEN BY VARA GIANNAKOPOULOS
Cthe circus before, imagine trying to keep multiple balls in the air while walking a tightrope—that’s what balancing academics, social life, and a relationship can feel like. But fear not! With the right strategies and mindset, it’s possible to excel in your studies while nurturing a fulfilling relationship. To gain insight into this delicate balance, we spoke with “lockedin” couple Jessika Landon (she/her) and Evan Sharrard (he/him), Emerson students who have been together for over three years. Their experience offers valuable lessons for couples navigating the complexities of college life.
Communication and planning emerge as crucial elements in maintaining a healthy relationship while pursuing academic goals. Landon and Sharrard have found that sharing Google Calendars and discussing their schedules regularly helps them stay organized and find quality time together. This level of
PHOTOGRAPHED
BY
VARA GIANNAKOPOULOS
coordination can significantly reduce stress and prevent misunderstandings. However, it’s important to recognize that a perfect balance isn’t always achievable. As Sharrard notes, “Someone is more important than something,” but this doesn’t mean neglecting academics entirely. The key is to make thoughtful judgments based on the situation at hand.
Sometimes, academic responsibilities must take precedence, while other times providing emotional support to your partner becomes the priority. One innovative approach the couple employs is “parallel play”—working independently in the same space. This allows them to enjoy each other’s presence while still being productive. They also emphasize the importance of phonefree quality time, such as during meals or while playing board games, to foster genuine connection amidst busy schedules.
For students struggling with time management, consider these strategies: Set academic goals together: Challenge each other to achieve goals like securing internships or completing projects ahead of deadlines. This fosters mutual support
and academic motivation.
Implement a “tag team” study method: When one partner has a heavy workload, the other can take on more day-to-day tasks or social responsibilities, alternating as needed.
Establish a “success ritual”: Celebrate each other’s academic accomplishments with a special tradition, reinforcing positive associations between your relationship and academic progress.
Practice “mindful transitions”: Create a brief ritual when switching between couple time and study time to help mentally prepare for each context.
Engage in “academia-free” dates: Plan activities that are completely unrelated to your studies to maintain a healthy work-life balance and keep the relationship fresh.
It’s crucial to maintain individual identities and
support systems outside a relationship. Relying solely on your partner for emotional support can lead to unhealthy codependency. Cultivate friendships and personal interests to ensure a well-rounded college experience. Remember, college is a transformative period. As Landon advises, “Never stop learning about your partner, because they are also changing.” Embrace the growth and changes you both experience, and be patient with the process of building a strong relationship.
While balancing romance and academics can be challenging, it’s not impossible. The skills you develop in managing this balance—time management, communication, and prioritization—will serve you well beyond your college years. As you walk the tightrope of college life together, remember you can keep all those balls in the air—whether in your studies or in the bedroom. YM
Lessons About Love I Learned Through My Hair
WRITTEN BY ALANI ALELI
PHOTOGRAPHED BY EMILIE DUMAS
Lesson #1: Start At The Split Ends, Work Your Way Up
It’s five days after our breakup. My cheeks and eyes are bleeding colors, matching pinks, indistinguishable from the other. I pull my hair back to keep the tears away from it, and since my bedroom has become suffocatingly hot. In these last few days, we fought every night, each argument ending with his pleas for reconciliation. I feel as if my bed will remember my shape better than he ever will, and I realize that my hair has lost its shape as well.
I finally get up to shower and try not to scream as I pull an orange scrunchie (definitely not made for curly hair) out of my knotted locks. I dip my head under the water and think about staying there. When I lift my brush, I hear my mom’s voice telling me to “brush from the bottom, then work your way up.” A task that used to feel so simple. I know I won’t feel better until I’ve done so, but staring at my split ends now, it feels impossible. I know it’ll hurt, but the only way to get through this tangle, as my mom said, is to push through the pain. Start with the little things, and the bigger things will come easier.
Lesson #2: Moisturize, Moisturize, Moisturize
After I’ve brushed out my hair, there are pools of fallen strands in my hand, on the shower walls, and below my feet. I realize my hair is dying. I make a trip to the mall and buy a whole array of new products: mousse, gel, clarifying shampoo, etc. I wander into Michaels, impulsively buy bundles of chunky yarn, and decide then and there to make a blanket. I picked up crocheting while we were dating, but had never made the time to commit to a project until then. Instead of pouring all my love and time into someone else, I poured it back into myself. I made new friends, took jobs that scared me before, and even dyed my hair for the first time. While the burning sensation on my scalp from the red dye might disagree, I brought moisture back into my life. I spent time with myself in a way I never had before.
Lesson #3: A Cut Goes a Long Way
After my hair had been lathered in those products, I felt it weighing me down. The cliche that we “hold our memories in our hair” sometimes rings truer in feeling than in theory. I had never thought to learn how to cut it myself until I held a fist of it, dead and full of rejection. After watching a singular TikTok video, the fallen strands on the floor were now intentional. I felt 10 times lighter and 10 steps closer to healing. The feeling of taking control of anything, even something as simple as my hair, was perhaps more powerful than anything else. I needed that reset.
Lesson #4: Let Your Hair Breathe
I often fall victim to freshly washing and styling my hair only to put it in a ponytail. Hours of labor immediately thrown down the drain because it was “hot outside,” or the wind blew one too many strands in my face, or I was anxious and put it up without noticing. One time may not damage my curls, but after three weeks of repeated stress, that shape I fought so hard to bring back is lost again. Sometimes, the most important lesson in life and love is to simply stop running back to things that hurt you, the things that never change. Let the new you breathe in a new space, free of the
old. Change is annoying—it’s inconvenient, it’s difficult to get used to, but everyone deserves a healthy start. Let your hair fall naturally.
Lesson #5 You Are Never At Your Best Curl
You will look at pictures of yourself at 12 and think, “Who the fuck let her out the house like that?” You’ll look at a picture of yourself a year from now and wonder how you hadn’t figured this thing out. You’ll learn that your hair is low porosity, or that finger coiling actually doesn’t work for you. There will always be a part of your routine you haven’t perfected, and that’s okay. You’ll start to fall in love again, and you’ll be upset that you’re not the version of yourself that you were two years ago. You’ll think, “God, I wish they had met me then,” as if you are any less deserving or capable of love now than you were at 18. And that new person you’re dating? They don’t know your good hair days from your bad, only that they like you. There’s a beauty in knowing even that doesn’t matter as much anymore because, for the first time in a long time, your split ends are cut, your frizz is tamed, your hair has a bounce, and your smile has a glow from learning how to love yourself—the way you always deserved. YM
“Brush from the bottom, then work your way up”
WRITTEN BY AMELIA VEDGREN
During the summer of 2024, I was in Amsterdam. At the suggestion of a friend, I went to see an exhibition by Albert Serra at the Eye Film Museum based on his 2019 movie Liberté. The museum describes it as offering a “bewildering total experience, blending theatrical and cinematic elements, inviting visitors into a world reminiscent of the vibrant landscapes of Rococo painters Jean-Honoré Fragonard and François Boucher, combined with the contemporary atmosphere of cruising zones. Amidst the grand projected scenes from Liberté, Serra engages participants in a captivating game of observation and participation, exploring the essence of ‘ultimate freedom.’” Throughout the display, I found myself put off by my discomfort and sexualization towards naked bodies, which was a fairly new feeling to me. Growing up in Finland, nakedness was rarely connected to sexual desires. This piece contemplates nature and nurture, finding balance between them through the lens of my eyes.
Finland to Florida
A customary day, sitting in a sauna, surrounded by family and friends. In the blue and white, green and gray, the colors of my motherland. Searing summer, biting winter. At home, grandmother’s backyard, or a friend’s cabin. Forever in joy, occasionally in sorrow. Sometimes alone, sacredly as one. Naked, sweat dripping, skin to skin. Hitting each other’s backs with bath whisks picked up from backyard forests. Catching gasps from each other when someone threw too much water on the stove stones. Grabbing one’s arm and pulling them to plunge into the lake. Parents watching over, smoking cigarettes and playing poker.
Sex was only a thing between lovers, nothing to do with nudity or parts of Her. Body is a vessel, to wrestle and feel the pressure from uphill runs and laser tag guns. My mind grew up on thoughts of this, never to think it was His.
I moved away from home when I was 15. Five thousand miles with my eyes closed to keep each tear composed. I took my culture with me, until my first roommate screamed at the glimpse of my bare breasts and knees. Confusion took over; what did I do wrong? “It is only my thong,” I told her. Later being chastised for walking down the street, and being advised not to, I soon realized in this country, my body was prized. Uncomfortable comfort to endure the madness, was this the beginning of my prudeness?
Eye Film Museum Presents Liberté by Albert Serra
A dark hallway, on a somber day. The ground beneath sucks my shoes into the dirt as sticks crack under my soles. I hear a woman grunting, and a few hunting slaps. My eyes wander toward the light in front of me, afraid to look into it. The screams roar through the empty air, silencing into whispers of mercy and despair. The scent of aged wood and faint incense wafts through the corridors, mingling with the subtle musk of velvet drapery that lines the characters. It’s as if I have crossed a threshold into a realm suspended in time, where the past whispers its secrets and shadows dance at the edges of perception, committing a crime. Rustling leaves, the distant call
ART BY LAUREN MALLETT
of nocturnal creatures, out of discomfort, pulling my sleeves. The whim of the wind through the trees mingle with the murmured declarations of the libertines. Their voices are low, conspiratorial, unspoken desires foreshow their quest for unrestrained freedom from the chateau. Controversy ate my mind, why does this feel so unkind?
There are three screens in front of me, projecting a woman spanked by a man from triad perspectives. Other men, hiding behind trees, touching themselves to see how it feels. My steps roam through the room, am I a fool to come and see something so cruel?
There is another woman, touching herself. Her feet perched on a stump, crouching over, circulating her pelvis on it. Slipping her left fingers beneath her corset, sliding the right ones towards her hidden interior. The audience is subjected to her groans and moans, frozen on her climax. I ridicule myself for the role I play, amongst associating objectifiers, yet none of us look away.
A man lying on a tapestry. Disfigured face, missing a nose, lost grace. Another woman walks up to him, squats over his torso, and lifts her skirt. Her flesh displayed on every screen, taking away from the moreen. She relieves herself on him, all the way from abdomen to chin. His arm poked by a chalice, molding his face in satisfaction. Attraction of abstraction. Repugnance shivered my body, awfully gaudy, yet everyone looked at that oddity. In disbelief of my reaction, where can I find the thief of my nonsexual taction? Was it gradual how natural became a grueling counterfactual?
Forgot all that I saw or heard, except the blur overpowered by heart slurs. Beating through my chest, at least it is letting my words rest. My knees crumble down, all of a sudden, my eyes don’t catch anyone around. The lights go off, silence.
Watch 2: Liberté of Decadence and Desire
A palpable tension in the air, a charged atmosphere with the electricity of forbidden desire. A desire to know more. The lights begin again, recasting and reconceiving the scene anew. These renegade aristocrats of pre-revolutionary France exude a languid grace as they indulge in their hedonistic fantasies. There is a beauty and intimacy to their interactions, almost intrusive to witness, I am drawn in. A silent observer to their revelries. My heart races in time with their whispered conversations, furtive glances. The rustling of their garments against the forest floor and boundless possibilities. Immersed in a world where the boundaries of morality and freedom blur into a haze of sensuality and excess. To explore the unknown, test the limits of obscure and suppress.
Psychological and moral ambivalence, vigilance was only made for the impotence. Contradictions and hypocrisy of our times’ plutocracy. The need to show it all, wasn’t for the philogyny to fall. Rather to sprawl and enthrall the picture where human nature doesn’t need a coverall. Impulse and corruption, how one’s mind is in disruption. A living pulsating entity, inviting me to explore what was once lost, it was my prudeness that it cost. What does it mean to be truly free, if there is no way to feel and peel from the genteel? YM
PHOTOGRAPHED
BY
MODELED BY KELLY O’BRYAN AND WESLEY SMITH
PROP DESIGN BY HAILEY KROLL
DIRECTED BY MCKENNA SMITH
BY MCKENNA SMITH
STYLING
ANNA BACAL PETERSON
Heart on Your Sleeve
THE BITTERSWEET CURSE OF WEARING YOUR HEART ON YOUR SLEEVE, DEPICTS THE ACT OF OPENING YOUR EMOTIONS TO VULNERABILITY, YET SUFFERING THE REPERCUSSIONS. THIS SHOOT CAPTURES THE SPOTTED WEAKNESS BETWEEN A PARTNERSHIP AND HIGHLIGHTS THE GREED IN EXPLOITING THE EXPOSED ARMOR.
SincerelyCandid
WRITTEN
BY
SALEM ROSS
Clothing defines us—if it didn’t we wouldn’t invest in it. With styles being recycled from decades prior, the idea of individuality becomes narrower with every cycle. Everything that once was is repackaged into the mundane, watering down one’s genuine style. The more overt effort made, the less believable it is that you live the life portrayed in the internet sphere. Online you can be whoever. You can be a multitude of different versions of yourself that others see you as. You can seemingly be candid, rather than living in the moment, you post idly in it. None of the clothes one wears defines their character, but a strong personality can make a t-shirt and jeans look groundbreaking. While fashion magazines depict only the style of a person, the internet age brought forth personality in an outfit.
Ties and button-ups were scattered among the city streets. Items of professionalism became adjacent to club culture. The attitude one has towards staying up all night to the bassline and crunching numbers are vastly different, but they are true to themselves in the same way. Putting on loafers with a shoe horn at the foot of the bed. Are they going to the discothèque or the office? It’s hard to tell the difference at first glance when they all smoke the same cigarettes.
As the day transitions, it’s the same person, just with a loosened tie past 9 p.m. This businessman-gone-wild style has been a thing for decades, highlighted in the 2000s with bands such as The Hives or Pete Doherty. There was a status symbol of a suit; it portrayed highgrade intellect. Cufflinks and ties combined with the cheapest beer on tap made way for this half-joking, half-dead-serious feeling of wonder for an audience. Over the years, this ensemble became more disheveled. That jaded break room look was captured in bathroom stalls on front page covers. The look never changed but you could tell who belonged to what just by stances and how they wore the clothes.
PHOTOGRAPHED BY EMMA
BOWEN
When MTV’s $2 concert series was adorned with The Strokes in their neckties and tired eyes, the Salvation Army attitude was born. Effortless. You know their personalities even before hearing a single lyric from Casablancas’s cigarette-clad lips. Jeans being paired with the spiffy accessories was more proof of the band’s fast lives, not being bothered enough to fix up their look because what mattered was how they sounded. Their clothes were a mockery of what respect meant because in a way to care about being respected was to be boring. To take into consideration what others thought of them was a waste of time. Icons such as The Strokes were poster boys for this era from sound to looks.
As copy-pastes of this style flooded through sites from Flickr to Myspace, the office grunge hybrid was a staple. The American Apparel agenda pushed forth the narrative of “I don’t care what you think of me, actually I do care, like a lot. But you’ll never know by the looks of my attitude.” Contradictory to what was perceived, behind the scenes was a mimic of what was going on in pop culture. That was achievable for the modern person, no matter their class. Putting that minimal effort into a look made whatever was worn stand out from the flashy neons and logomania of the pre-recession era.
Where will the lens take you tonight? Maybe against the bar, eyes glossed from staring at the bodies moving around you and your friends. The white shirt you wore is now almost see-through with all the sweat and spilled drinks that have christened it. Tights are now mere ribbons on your legs and your friend is next to you staring into the camera of a total stranger. They smile at the photographer, knowing you are too caught up in the energy around you to even notice how untouchable you look. To be together in this moment is captured in a flash, literally. These photos were purely candid, purely organic. YM
WRITTEN BY ELLA MORDARSKI
education, you can often find me racking up credit at the local mall. From a jolt around Newbury Street, to hours spent online, I don’t discriminate the modality. While my vice may not lead to illness, it’s just as addicting. Nothing could ever replace the rush of serotonin I get from typing in my PIN. There is probably a deep psychological reason this act of financial recklessness satisfies me. Something having to do with chemicals, classical conditioning, and Freud. While one may call me a shopaholic, I like referring to my practice as “retail therapy.”
If you ask me, shopping and therapy have a lot in common. Other than being wildly expensive, both change the perception of oneself and the outside world. When I light a new candle, I get more work done and feel the creativity flow. Stepping out of the house wearing a new dress, I feel revived and ready to take on the world. People around me notice too. Compliments on my clutch from strangers boost my confidence like no therapist ever could. One session of shopping can lead to more breakthroughs than I have purses.
You’re probably wondering where this nasty habit was formed.
ART BY LAUREN MALLETT
I could blame it on my parents, like many do at their weekly therapy appointment. But in reality, I hold Sex and the City accountable. Every episode, Carrie Bradshaw—a column writer, mind you—takes out her romantic frustrations by purchasing the newest Fendi baguette.
Carrie’s closet is a wonderland of fashion, showcasing every small inconvenience she’s ever had. In my imagination, Carrie talks to her Manolo Blaniks like they have a degree in counseling. “Oh, spring 2002 Maysale pump in Tiffany blue, Mr. Big really screwed up the other day.” The other three ladies weren’t much better. Their lives may have been falling apart weekly, but at least they looked good while it was happening.
It would be nice to end this piece on a virtuous note: I tell you I took some time away from retail therapy, it changed my life, and I’ve been shopping sober for two months. Sorry to disappoint, but that is not how this story ends. Just the other day I spent $130 on a Reformation top because I was proud of my 21-year-old self for getting a flu vaccine. Society teaches us to hide our vices, but I am choosing to wear mine (literally) on my sleeve.
Is shopping solving my problems? No, definitely not. There are
Boredom as Beauty
WRITTEN BY HEATHER THORN
I’m not sure when I first conceptualized the color purple. It might have been raining, I could have had my eyes closed, it may have been accidental. What I do know is that the first outfit my parents dressed me in as a baby was purple. Faced with identical twins, they planned to tell my sister and I apart by color until we grew into our features and earned distinctive qualities. From there on out, my twin sister was given pink outfits, and I was designated purple.
There’s not much to say about what it’s like to be a twin, or maybe there is. People ask me all the time, but the truth is I myself want to know what it’s like to not be a twin. Ever since I was a child, all I remember is having no individuality. My whole life I have been seen as only one pea in a pod, half of a set, a fraction of a duo. I have been called my sister’s name, Julia, countless times over the last 19 years, to the point that I’ve learned to respond to it as my own. Correcting people is not a chore but a way of life; I have become used to the inconvenience of looking exactly like my sister.
There’s a framed photograph of me on picture day in
PHOTOGRAPHED BY LAUREN MALLETT
first grade hanging in my family’s home. Dressed in purple, I look as awkward as possible with a weird half-smile on my face. Although I’ve come to love the color purple, it wasn’t always like that. Purple was something predetermined for me, a designated color to dress in so that people would know which twin I was. As the purple twin, I learned to accept my identity as both a fraction and a color. Perhaps I knew even then that I would never completely be my own person, but instead always be viewed as someone in the context of another.
The first time I felt a sense of belonging and individuality was when I dyed my hair at the ripe age of 17. Truth be told, I was completely fed up with being mistaken for my sister every day at school. I was slowly falling apart from the one thing I’d been my whole life: an identical twin. Searching for ways to distinguish myself, I decided to dye my hair. It felt natural because hair grows back, making it an accessible change for most people who may wish for a more temporary change. So, stuck between bleach and a hard place, I dyed my hair a vivid color.
By vivid color, I, of course, mean the one color I’d been designated my entire life: purple. Dyeing my whole head of hair purple was my opportunity to reclaim the thing I’d been told to be my whole life. Rather than a color forced on me, it became a color chosen by me. This distinction made all the difference, and even altered my fashion style as I became more comfortable with varying forms of self-expression.
A few months after the first time I dyed my hair purple, I ended up going back to my natural hair color in an attempt to stand out less. I had a wonderful experience with purple hair, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be so distinct. It didn’t sit right with me that I needed vivid hair in order for people to get my name right. While returning to brown hair felt like regressing, I needed to return to my roots (literally) to realize that I didn’t need a specific hair color to be able to express myself. Instead, I learned that hair color is simply one tool in which I can let my individuality shine.
Thinking about the twists and turns of my own hair journey, I reached out to a few Emerson students about their experimentation with different hair colors. Liv Mazzola ’27 (she/her) says of her first time dying her hair vividly this past May: “It made me really happy because it’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while … It just makes me happy.” For Mazzola and myself, hair color serves as a physical outlet of emotion and a chance to self-express certain characteristics of ourselves that we otherwise would not be able to.
Anabelle Rosenberger ’27 (she/her) first dyed her hair in
fourth grade when she colored it pink and purple. Since then she’s had blue tips, parts of it pink, complete purple, blonde, vibrant red (followed by a long string of faded reds), blonde, and orange and blonde. When she started dyeing her hair it signified “a new era of clothing” and fashion style dependent on the color. For some people, changing one’s hair color may often feel like a new beginning or an opportunity to reinvent oneself. Now, however, Rosenberger has come to terms with her sense of style and is comfortable dressing the way she wants regardless of her hair color, which still remains a crucial part of her identity.
Bel Attenberg ’27(they/she) first dyed their hair in sixth grade, but did it for a completely different reason than they do it now. Of their hair journey, Attenberg says, “... in my earlier years, it was to express a sense of creativity first and foremost.” Expression is meaningful to Attenberg, and now they focus on dyeing their hair in a selective and thoughtful process: “It isn’t just putting dye onto my hair to be someone else … I’m doing it to be me.”
Hair color serves as a vehicle that I and many other people use as a tool to express ourselves. As a natural form of self-expression, hair offers a sense of control amidst a turbulent world and often may feel like the only outlet available for people due to the impermanence of hair dye. My last few words of wisdom are these: If you’re thinking of dying your hair, do it! There’s nothing like embodying a color and expressing your unending creativity and individuality. YM
INTERVIEWS BY ELLA MORDARSKI
Lauren (she/her)
How would you describe your personal style in three words?
Fun, colorful, c*nty. If you could only shop at one place for the rest of your life, where would it be? Rumors Thrift in my hometown. What movie character would wear this outfit? Lizzie McGuire.
What song would you use to narrate your outfit?
“Pocketful of Sunshine” by Natasha Bedingfield. Is there anything else you would like us to know?
I think I have the most packed wardrobe at Emerson.
PHOTOGRAPHED BY EMILIE DUMAS
Calysa (she/they)
What song would you use to narrate your outfit?
“Scrawny” by Wallows.
How do you think Boston has impacted your style? Bostonians and Emersonians alike have such diverse fashion tastes. My friends especially love to layer and experiment with patterns, so this has definitely influenced me to add a variety of patterns and textures to my wardrobe.
Three favorite accessories to add to an outfit?
My name plate, my locket with my dog in it, and my rings. What is your favorite color to wear? Why?
I love muted and earth tones. They’re easiest to style, extremely versatile, and best compliment my natural features.
Emily
How would you describe your personal style in three words? Experimental; meticulous; hyper feminine. What are three pieces in your wardrobe you can’t live without?
My favorite pieces have been clothing I’ve thrifted. These would be my lace, beaded lingerie top with a dropped waistline, my red wool coat (seen in the image), and my vintage pink halter dress.
What song would you use to narrate your outfit?
“Please Be Rude” by Gigi Perez (the desire to love even if it means having to fix aspects of yourself to become a healthy partner).
How do you think Boston has impacted your style? Boston has improved my winter fashion altogether. I’m able to create unique looks even when the wind is at its extreme and I’m in a long puffer coat. Emerson’s community of fashionable people also continues to inspire me for my own looks. (she/her)
“SPIRALING” AIMS TO DEPICT FEELINGS OF ANXIETY AND HOPELESSNESS WHEN BATTLING AGAINST YOUR OWN MIND. THE IMAGERY OF A SPIRAL STAIRCASE INSPIRED THIS SHOOT, AS THE VISUAL SERVES AS A REPRESENTATION OF HOW ONE MIGHT SPIRAL IN THESE FEELINGS, ENDING UP TRAPPED AT THE BOTTOM OF A DEEP HOLE, OR IN THIS CASE, THE BASEMENT FLOOR OF A VERY TALL BUILDING.
DIRECTED BY LAUREN MALLETT
PHOTOGRAPHED BY EMILIE DUMAS
STYLED BY JULIA MAGDZIAK
MAKEUP BY LAUREN MALLETT
MODELED BY SEANALEI NISHIMURA, KEIRA LANCIA, ABIGAIL TANGONAN, NATSU HYDEN, AND JULIA BALDWIN
ART BY LAUREN MALLETT WRITTEN BY TY REILLY
Iwas told repeatedly … “You’ll grow out of it.”
The human brain is the most complex organ in the human body for scientists to understand and, in turn, treat. While there are over 600 neurological diseases, I particularly want to dive into the complexity of epilepsy. I had my first seizure at nine years old, and growing up I had repeated testing until I was finally “roughly” diagnosed with Nocturnal Epilepsy. My neurologist said I had to accept that every time I went to bed … “You may not wake up.”
A seizure is a burst of uncontrolled electrical activity between neurons, or “nerve cells,” that causes temporary differences in movement, behavior, sensation, and awareness. Every person who has epilepsy has different seizures, symptoms, and triggers. For example, many people ask me if I have seizures due to fast-blinking lights, which is called Photosensitive Epilepsy. Only 5 percent of epileptic people are triggered by flashing lights. It is common in people under 20 years old, and almost every epileptic person is tested with flashing lights, at least at one point in their lives. I do not have Photosensitive Epilepsy, but the sheer amount of people who assume that it’s the only type of epilepsy proves how little information and awareness there is around the disorder. At age 12, I had my first tonic-clonic seizure (formerly called grand mal seizures), which caused loss of consciousness and violent convulsions. Every time a seizure occurs, a certain number of brain cells die. I began having less balance, less hand-eye coordination, and slower reading speed. “Brain cells do not regenerate; they are gone.”
the street and insisted on taking photos of all the belongings he took out of my room in case he stole anything. After arguing with my suitemates, Emerson agreed to have one of them register Jack as a guest and allowed him to stay until I was released. Did my own college even care about my well-being, or am I just a check to them?
I’m not broken, and I’m proud to be a part of the epileptic community.
In the Tufts ER, after 10 hours of constant seizing, my neurologist decided to put me into an induced coma to calm my brain down. I was put through multiple full-body scans, a spinal tap, and a 72-hour EEG. I woke up three days later, my feeding and breathing tubes were removed, and I was on heavy painkillers. Due to being in and out of the hospital my whole childhood, I have an intense phobia of hospitals. As soon as I woke up, I insisted on being taken home and began ripping out my IVs and sensors on my head. At one point, I attempted a poorly planned escape. I made it about ten feet before I was put in restraints. My parents could not travel to Boston, so Jack was named my healthcare proxy. Looking back, I am lucky I ended up at Tufts that day. I was finally looked at by a world-class neurologist who gave me an official diagnosis, new medication, and identified my primary triggers. My triggers are menstruation, peanuts, tree nuts, fish, alcohol, and lack of taking care of myself, such as lack of sleep, medication, and mental health care. I could not be more grateful for my suitemates, boyfriend, and the Tufts doctors who called me a miracle. I shouldn’t have woken up without severe brain damage.
On Halloween in 2023, my long-distance boyfriend, Jack, visited me at college, and we went to an Italian restaurant. My condition involves taking a large dosage of medication at a specific time. I had been on the same medication since I was diagnosed, and my dosage increased as I grew. When Jack and I finished, I remembered that I had forgotten my medication. I raced home—I was four hours late. I went to sleep and anxiously waited to see if I would wake up.
My eyes open, and I’m hungover. On my way to the bathroom, I started having a seizure. I am aware of what’s going on for about 20 minutes. Jack comes and finds me banging my head against the bottom of the toilet and kicking the door with all my might. I was choking on my tongue, and while helping me, I bit Jack’s thumb incredibly hard. This isn’t his first rodeo. My suitemates run to my side and call the RA. That is where my memory stops.
I had a 12-hour tonic-clonic seizure. The RA had not arrived, and I was unresponsive. My roommate called 911. I was upset to hear that an Emerson staff member did not show up until I was being taken to the hospital. Emerson immediately kicked Jack to
Epilepsy is a hidden disability. You won’t be able to look at someone and know they struggle with it. When I went away to college, I faced the reality that many people do not want to deal with others’ disabilities and look down on disabled people. Going random on a roommate was a precarious move on my part because I was introducing myself and putting my life in their hands. I wanted to study abroad in my sophomore year, but how could I find a roommate? Could I even travel alone? I have been affected professionally after having a seizure at work; my managers were concerned yet frustrated. I have been told that I am a burden and others don’t want to live with me. After a few missteps, I found roommates who genuinely cared about my well-being. A couple of days ago, I had a small seizure in the 2 Boylston Alley while sitting at a table. The thought that at any moment they can hit the ground is terrifying to anyone with epilepsy. The amount of pain disabled people are in when they don’t feel “normal” or good enough or when people talk behind their backs. I have been told my whole life that I am broken. It took me 20 years to say this: I’m not broken, and I’m proud to be a part of the epileptic community.
YM
PHOTOGRAPHED BY CAMILLE STAHL WRITTEN BY ISABELLA CASTELO
If I wake up at the right time each morning— around 8:30 a.m. in the early fall months— the sun catches on my renter-friendly stained glass window stickers at the exact angle to form a rainbow. It drapes over my face as I stare outside and listen to the cars racing on I-90. After it rains and the highway is still wet, if I try hard enough, the cars sound like waves crashing on the shore.
I stare out the window and stretch my legs out so intensely my toes start to shake. A girl I once worked with told me it’s grounding to stare at the sun—not damaging. Sometimes I test my limits and try not to squint, apparently connecting my soul to all fellow life forms. I never last that long and look away, blinking rapidly; I’m not one for grounding anyway. I wriggle around in my threelayer bedspread. The light blue sheet sticks to my clammy feet and I eventually get too frustrated to pretend I need it. I’m left with my clumpy olive green duvet and my pink peony quilt. The green leaves match my duvet, the blue salvia-looking design matches that sheet I kicked off moments earlier, and the large pink flowers match my pink metal bed frame.
My bed is my pride and joy. If you see me anywhere, I’d rather be there, lying in my field of flowers, under the stars—the fairy lights that I’ve had since 2020. It sits in the corner and acts like a
throne for a queen who must watch all her subjects at every hour. From my bed, I have the perfect view of the endless trinkets on my window frame: the ceramic frog my fifth grade best friend gifted to me 10 years ago, my coin jar that has collected hundreds of dollars, the flower I picked and dried from my front sidewalk that lays disintegrating beside my lamp.
Despite breaking my back to carry all the pieces of my bed and trash for my windows to my third-floor apartment, then meticulously displaying them in the exact spots they reside in my New Jersey home, I can only focus on what’s different.
My walls are a stark white rather than a jeweled green. There are waxy hardwood floors instead of an ugly brown shag carpet. The view outside my window is a parking lot rather than the tree I watched grow my entire childhood.
Every year I move into my college room and every year I’m disappointed. You’d think I’d learn and ditch the dream, maybe learn to love my different spaces. However, I think we both know I’m not a lover of change, nor have I ever been. Every morning I’ll continue to scorch my retinas to try and blind myself from the details. I’ll sit there blinking, the image of my pink peonies flashing in and out, and maybe once I’ll get a flash of home.
YM
Flashes of Home
HDear Ed: A Letter to My Eating Disorder
WRITTEN BY GRACE CLENDENING
For those who have been there, waiting for me to open up.
ART BY HAILEY KROLL
appy anniversary! I cannot imagine my life without you, stealing every moment and taking each breath ‘till I have no fight in me left. This year marks a decade: a milestone deserving celebration, yet nobody else will be invited. Turning 22 years old should be more than a remembrance of who could have been. That math is too quick, that age too young. When you saw me for the first time, I was 12 years old, and I fell because you pushed and pulled, then pulled and pushed. Your desire made me feel seen, worth being counted, so I stepped aside, let you in, and we have lived together since. Though I was wrong about you then: I was nothing but another door for you to force open when one of your doors had slammed close. For 10 years, I have been embarrassed and afraid of our relationship consuming me, and yet I care for you, my finest line, because for the life of me I understand.
When I first met you I idealized you, and you took advantage. You knew I would sit with you, for forever if you needed, and listen. You knew the depth of my care and the ferocity of my love, and you took the opportunity to be free. I was your life-saving breath. You were drowning in oceans formed by your tears of pain, joy, sadness, happiness, despair, hope. Oceans. You were burning in fires fueled by your sparks of weakness, strength, anger, kindness, hate, love. You were being buried alive in the earth by your bad and your good, suffocating in reality—in the gray between black and white. You were dying, and I was the air you needed to breathe, so I do not blame you: I understand. The world is a heavy hold, and I lended you a hand; I cannot blame you for my weight because you had no choice.
Ever since, I have blown candles out on my birthday wishing for enough, as if each candle added, each year increased the chances of my wish coming true. I would have been ashamed for making anyone feel like such a waste, which is why I believe you tried your worst to help me. If we are similar, then we are through having good intentions. What you tried, though—my body quickly became a sacrifice. I traded the nature of my body to feel less. I gave up the first piece of myself without a second thought, and in doing so I unconsciously gave permission for more pieces to be taken. When I look in a mirror, I cannot trust my reflection because I see someone—something—different every time. I beg what I would see had you not sold my body to bathroom scales and measuring cups and small clothes. I beg what I would see had I not starved myself of 40 pounds in four months and felt sought after for the first time; had I not gained every pound back and been deafened by the sudden silence. I beg what I would see had we not subjected ourselves to suffering a lifelong acceptance that we cannot be put back together as we once were. How can I begin recovery not knowing who I am recovering? Please—
I am embarrassed, Ed, not only by you, but also by myself. I am an empty shell of who I once was—hold me, hear my oceans—yet I have no regret reaching out to you. You were alone, tired, and desperate for grace, and I was desperate for a best friend. Though, I think you feel guilty. I think you regret dragging me down beneath your surface. You thought casting your burdens on me would lighten your load, but your burdens only doubled because together we could carry twice as much. I hold you in one hand and the weight of our world in the other, and I will continue, or we will be crushed. Hating you should be, would be easier, but I could not hate you even if I tried: I require all of my hatred for myself.
I am afraid, Ed, of more than food and photographs and you. I am afraid of myself. There is life inside me, bursting at my seams, and I am afraid of caring so deeply, of loving so fiercely, of living so freely! I AM AFRAID! I am afraid of myself, and I—I fear I will be so until I learn how to bear badness in my blood; even worse, how to bear goodness in my bones. I fear I will be so until you learn how to accept, and never forget, that beauty is a standard from feeling ugly; that lightness is a relief from feeling heaviness; that two things can and always will be true. I fear I will be so afraid until we part, but if we part, then I—I give up my last piece. You have shared my mind and body and soul; counted my calories, stood on my scale, converted my core beliefs, so if we part, then who will you have, and what will I do? Where will you go? When will you stop? Why will I miss you? How will I live, if not for you?
I have run from feeling for so long, and I am tiring. There is no escaping my flooding waves or my scorching flames because I am staggering on solid earth and gasping on fresh air. I am being pushed and pulled, pulled and pushed, again, not by you, Ed, but by the depths of my bad and the gravity of my good, so I face another choice: Drown and burn, live and breathe. The decision is all I am. If not for you, I would choose wrong. Ten years ago, my mistake was not letting you in, but closing my door behind you.
Yours, Grace Margaret
YM
DIRECTED BY ISABELLE GALGANO AND NATHAN KAHN
ASSISTED BY SOFIA MISISCO
PHOTOGRAPHED BY ISABELLE GALGANO AND NATHAN KAHN
STYLED BY HAZEL ARMSTRONG-MCEVOY AND SOFIA MISISCO
MODELED BY HAZEL ARMSTRONG-MCEVOY
“COSMOS” IS A CONCEPTUAL PROJECT FOCUSING ON THE CONSTRICTIVE BEAUTY STANDARDS PRESENT IN THE GENRE OF OLD HOLLYWOOD, SPECIFICALLY WITHIN GLAMOUR PHOTOSHOOTS. WORKING WITH OUR MODEL, WE USED STYLING, MAKEUP, AND SPECIFIC POSING TO TELL A STORY INSPIRED BY WOMEN OF THE MID-20TH CENTURY.
KAT BOSKOVIC
PHOTOGRAPHED BY
SIENA YOCUM
With the release of Sam Levinson and The Weeknd’s controversial series The Idol in June 2023, the cultural obsession with the “bad” pop girl came into sharp focus. Despite the backlash for its overt sexualization and glamorization of destructive behaviors, the show reflects a deeper truth: the music industry thrives on churning out “bad” pop stars. From Britney Spears to Miley Cyrus, and now the emerging “brat” trend, agencies capitalize on the “rebel girl” archetype, and we can’t get enough.
This fascination with the “bad girl” is nothing new; it returns to icons Edith Piaf and Marilyn Monroe. In our lifetime, Britney Spears was the first to embody this transformation; marketed as the innocent girl-next-door, her rise became a media spectacle that shaped the pop landscape. When her 1998 music video for “Hit Me Baby One More Time” debuted, it sparked outrage for its portrayal of Spears’ revealing schoolgirl outfit. Defending herself in an interview, Spears said, “I don’t see myself as a sex symbol.” Yet, at just 17, she was thrust into a world that demanded sexual allure, and a year later, she graced the cover of Rolling Stone in lingerie pajamas, a jarring shift that set the tone for her career. Despite her contradictory quotes—“If you want me to be some kind of sex thing, that’s not me.”— juxtaposed with countless skimpy photoshoots, she was both scrutinized and fetishized, her image crafted by an industry that profited from her pain. After years of exploitation, she fell under her father’s conservatorship, a tragic end to a turbulent rise.
Miley Cyrus followed in Spears’ footsteps, transitioning from Disney’s good girl to a provocative pop icon. Her 2013 album Bangerz marked a decisive turn, with the music video for “Wrecking Ball” showcasing a barely-there outfit and Cyrus licking a (hopefully clean) hammer with a fresh blonde pixie cut. While portrayed as liberated, Cyrus’ reality was far from it; her lyrics insinuated substance use, painting a picture of a party girl struggling with her own demons. In a 2014 Elle interview, she revealed her battle with depression, echoing the narrative that defined Spears.
Today, the term “brat” has emerged as the latest descriptor for “bad girl” iconolatry. Charli XCX, mother of this trend,
incessantly flaunts her party-girl persona; following a Boiler Room performance in Ibiza, videos surfaced of her pausing her DJ set to snort cocaine. Rather than facing backlash, her behavior was celebrated, and her lyrics in “365” casually referencing drug use turned harmful habits into a “brat” movement: cool, sexy, iconic. But what is so desirable about drug addiction? What is so glamorous about substance abuse?
How do these “bad girl” figures continue to resurface?
The answer is simple: sex sells. Whether it’s a photo of an underage pop star in lingerie, or a music video depicting a “good girl gone bad,” we are drawn to the taboo. This isn’t solely limited to Spears, Cyrus, and Charli; even JoJo Siwa, known for her glitter and bows, attempted to rebrand herself this summer with her single “Karma.” However, the effort fell flat, deemed too innocent and cringeworthy by a culture hungry for sexy scandal.
Music agencies exploit this narrative, pushing artists towards rebellion because shock value translates into profit. For many young female stars, adopting the “bad girl” persona resembles a rite of passage from child star to adult artist. This oversexualization signals maturity but often comes at a steep price—both for the artists and their audiences, for wild behavior is misinterpreted as liberation, yet it ultimately reflects a dangerous cycle of exploitation. In Sam Levinson’s The Idol, protagonist Jocelyn (Lily-Rose Depp) illustrates her provocative image as independent, performing sensual dance routines and writing sultry lyrics, yet simultaneously suffers at the hands of her agent boyfriend’s (The Weeknd) control issues and his vision of her portrayal in the public eye. While a fictional piece, it resonates with the experiences of countless popstars before The Idol. Can we call this liberation, or is it pure exploitation?
As the music industry continues to churn out these “bad” pop girls, we must consider the ramifications. The allure of rebellion and the thrill of scandal keeps us coming back for more, but we ought to ask ourselves: at what cost to the artists, and to our popular culture? While we continue to devour these narratives, the consequences for both the performers and fans are far more damaging than we realize. YM
What Happened To Veronica Roth After
WRITTEN BY MEGAN HEMENWAY
Let me take you back in time.
It’s 2012. Barack Obama’s in office. The iPhone 5 just hit the market. One Direction’s “Live While We’re Young” might be playing on the car radio. Many believe the world will end before the end of the year. Yet, this dystopia isn’t too hard to fathom. Weirdly enough, in 2012, dystopia is in.
In the early 2010s, there was a young adult dystopian craze. Every new book centered on a brave heroine several generations in the future. Someone who was forced to live in a cruel and oppressive society that she would, inevitably, break down with her bare hands. During this time, I was tucked into my couch with the latest New York Times bestseller. First, it was The Hunger Games. Then it was The Selection, The Giver, The Maze Runner, and The 5th Wave. But the book that impacted me the most was Divergent
Divergent is a 2011 novel that follows Beatrice, a 16-year-old girl living in a futuristic version of Chicago where the city is split into factions. When Beatrice instinctively joins the Dauntless faction after growing up among the risk-averse Abnegation, everyone is shocked. The rest of the book follows Beatrice, now going by the more chic nickname, Tris, as she learns to be fearless.
ART BY HAILEY KROLL
series of the 2010s, Roth has virtually disappeared, at least from online book spaces. Content creators reference their nostalgic love for Divergent or criticize it for its basic tropes, but no one ever wonders where Roth is now. No one is eagerly awaiting her newest release.
The real shocker is, Veronica Roth has published many books after Divergent. Even more surprising than that, some of them may actually be good.
In the years immediately following the Divergent books, Roth went quiet for a while. Then, in 2017, she returned with a young adult sci-fi duology set in space. Her next novel, a superhero story, debuted in 2020. Another dystopian book came next, quickly followed by an Antigone retelling, and a scifi novella. Roth’s most recent release is a Polish folklore-inspired fantasy.
Let’s fast forward to the present day. The book world is in a major flux. “Booktok” has reignited many people’s love for reading. With just a swipe, you can access thousands of book recommendations. But does New York Times bestseller, Goodreads award winner, and author of Divergent, Veronica Roth ever figure into these recommendations? In my experience, no.
Veronica Roth was born in New York City in 1988, but spent most of her childhood in and around Chicago. Roth attended Northwestern University as a Creative Writing major circa 2008 and came out of the program a published author. After writing Divergent during the winter of her senior year, she quickly picked up a book deal and pumped out two more installments. Then came the movie adaptation starring Shailene Woodley, and its sequels. Then… nothing.
After publishing one of the most popular young adult book
So, I’m left with a burning question: if Veronica Roth continued writing after Divergent, why does no one care?
In my opinion, there are a lot of factors at play. Despite Divergent’s overnight success, it didn’t exactly age well. In the face of superior dystopian novels like The Hunger Games, it wilted under the pressure. Roth creates an exciting and fast-paced world, but it lacks the depth of Collins’s Panem.
Therefore, as the hype around Divergent died, so did the hype around Roth.
Ultimately, I think Veronica Roth deserves more attention. I cannot argue that all of her books are amazing, but I feel strongly that the book community needs to give Roth another chance. Her most recent release, When Among Crows, is a short yet action-packed tale that is atmospheric, evocative, and definitely worth the read.
There is a chance that Veronica Roth is not deserving of any hype. Perhaps she truly peaked with Divergent. However, there is an audience for every book, and isn’t it fair to give everyone a second chance?
So, if you were braiding your hair for school every morning like Katniss Everdeen or drawing the Divergent symbols on your arms with a pen during class, then I formally invite you to try Veronica Roth one more time. Maybe Divergent no longer has to be a fond memory. YM
WRITTEN
BY
EMMA O’KEEFE
APHOTOGRAPHED BY EMILIE
DUMAS
t the 2024 VMAs, two of the biggest up-and-coming pop stars, Sabrina Carpenter and Tate McRae, both wore red carpet looks that referenced past pop stars’ iconic outfits. Carpenter paid tribute to Madonna’s 1991 Academy Awards gown, and McRae referenced Britney Spears’s 2001 VMAs black lace dress. Each of these looks paid homage to women who paved the way for these modern stars, today both sonically and in style. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a good throwback look, but who will the next generation of pop stars reference when today’s stars do nothing but reference looks and sounds from the past?
This isn’t just a trend in music or fashion; nostalgia bait has taken over the entertainment industry in the past decade. Everything is getting a sequel, and if not a sequel it’s a prequel, and if not a prequel it’s a spinoff. Amazon is currently casting for a Legally Blonde spinoff series about the origin story of the iconic Elle Woods, despite the fact that there are already two sequels to the original movie in addition to a Broadway musical. In fashion, it’s not just modern pop stars recreating their idols’ best dresses. It happens on the red carpets of film premiers, in street style, and in the going-out attire we see in paparazzi photos. Even staged paparazzi walks are a PR technique recycled from the early 2000s. In music, sampling, a technique originally used in ’80s hip-hop to reference obscure pieces of media and music, has become a lazy way for producers and artists to bring listeners back to an earlier time without any major changes or innovations. Even in the podcasting sphere, Spotify is bombarded with re-watch podcasts from former cast members of your favorite shows.
It seems like in every corner of Hollywood we’re seeing recreations of past eras. Is originality dead in the entertainment industry? Inspiration and influences are important, and to pay homage to your influences is a way to show your appreciation for the artists and eras that make your art and style what it is. However, another big part of what makes your creations stand out, and one of the most important parts of art, is originality and individuality.
Consumers have expressed being tired of this unoriginal trend in Hollywood but they are also buying into it. Inside Out 2 is now the highest grossing animated film of all time at the box office. If the first Inside Out did so well, from a purely financial standpoint, why wouldn’t Pixar bank on it again instead of a new concept that they have no idea whether audiences would like?
It’s no wonder that almost every Disney and Pixar movie coming out in 2024 is a sequel: it’s what’s going to make them the most money. Recycled media is what makes headlines, and music that grasps for an earlier time is what’s topping the charts. This marketing trend will only continue to ramp up if we keep buying into it.
Making something totally new is a risk, and maybe it’s one that studios and record labels aren’t willing to take. It can take a long time for new and authentic art to pay off. Look at Chappell Roan, whose unique sound and style has brought her to the forefront of pop music. She’s widely known now, but she only blew up a few months ago and has been making music in that persona for years. She pays homage to her favorite drag queens while putting her own twist on it and creating her own infamous looks most of the time. Her authenticity is both critically and commercially claimed. Sequels and recreations in media may be able to claim commercial success, but critically they can’t say the same. The longevity isn’t there either since it’s the reference that’s really grabbing people’s attention.
Gen-Z especially longs for a time before social media, where authenticity thrived, but we’re consuming eras like Indie Sleaze through social media. Candid party photos are making a comeback through photographers like Cobrasnake, but doesn’t a planned night of candid photos defeat the purpose of what candid actually is? In yearning for individuality through the past, we only create a less enticing version of that time, instead of something that is distinctively our own.
By no means, however, is original and authentic art dead. It can just be harder to find it behind the nostalgia-bait entertainment being forced onto our screens. Hollywood will always have a cyclical nature to it; after all it’s an industry, and executives are looking to make money above anything else. There’s nothing wrong with honoring past icons and trends, but it’s become tiring for audiences to see this over and over again. It’s important when taking inspiration from the past to put your own spin on it to make it brand new. If you’re sick of recycled ideas and concepts in entertainment, one of the best ways to help change this movement is to listen and watch artists who may not be backed by a major label or studio, but are doing their own thing and might be on the forefront of pop culture soon. Another great way to change and progress the standards of art and entertainment is to make your own. Make art that is uniquely you.
YM
YMP3 songs sittingfor on the terrace at the after party
Stormy Weather - Etta James
(I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons - Nat King Cole
Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Richer
You’re No Good - Linda Ronstadt
Maybe This Time - Liza Minnelli
Maybe - The Chantels
Wicked Game - Chris Isaak
Both Sides Now - Joni Mitchell
Be My Baby - The Ronettes
Forever - The Little Dippers
Call It Fate, Call It Karma - The Strokes
The World We Knew (Over and Over) - Frank Sinatra
nyc in 1940 - berlioz, Ted Jasper
No. 1 Party Anthem - Arctic Monkeys
Please Send Me Someone to Love - Fiona Apple
Rose Blood - Mazzy Star
Kiss of Life - Sade
Why Try to Change Me Now - Fiona Apple
The Other Woman - Lana Del Rey
Autumn In New York
- Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong
I Only Have Eyes for You - The Flamingos
Terrapin - Clairo
It Won’t Always Be Like This - Inhaler
Billie Bossa Nova - Billie Eilish
Pancakes for Dinner - Lizzy McAlpine
One Wish (feat. Childish Gambino) - Ravyn Lenae
Find Someone Like You - Snoh Aalegra
A Man Without Love - Engelbert Humperdinck
WILDFLOWER - Billie Eilish
Pilot - Ravyn Lenae
Amber - Golden Daze
ARTIST STATEMENT poST ExploSIoN
DESCRIBE YOUR WORK IN ONE SENTENCE:
“We help projects stuck in post-production by providing qualified supervisors and editors to ensure timely, high-quality completion.”
HOW AND WHEN DID YOU EACH START GETTING INTO POST PRODUCTION?
ElISA SAM
(she/her)
“I’ve been editing since I was 4 years old. I began when I found a camera app on my sister’s LeapPad and I never stopped. But honestly, it was during NewsWorthy that I started taking an interest in overseeing the post process; that’s where I realized how important it is to create a good final product.”
(she/her)
(he/him)
“At the beginning of high school, when I worked on my school’s broadcasting YouTube channel, I learned how to use Final Cut Pro!”
julIA AAdI
“I began ‘editing’ on iMovie at around 10, creating home videos of family trips and time with friends.”
WHAT INSPIRES YOU?
“A big source of inspiration for us is our friendships, none of what we do now would be possible without those friendships and that’s incredibly inspiring to me. In addition to looking back at our progress, seeing how far we’ve come is inspiring in its own way!”
JULIA:
“I am inspired by the joy and excitement of bringing together all the hard work people have put into their projects. I love seeing their reactions when everything comes together in the edit. With Post Explosion, I get to help turn their visions into reality, and as a producer, I enjoy providing directors with the resources they need to create their best work. It’s such a rewarding process!”
(he/him)
“I got my start making trailers and making skits with my friends in high school theater. I eventually got into sound design because of theater, thanks to my friend Ryder Quiggle asking me to help sound design, and that led me to the joys of sound design in film and I’ve never looked back since.
WHAT DO YOU FEEL MAKES YOUR WORK UNIQUE?
“What we’re doing is basically producing post production— something that is often looked over at Emerson, but also a lot of times in the industry as well! Our founding team is made up of people who love producing projects big or small, and we transferred those skills over to post, because there was a clear vacuum in that area! The plan was always to create a space for editors to feel safe and heard, protecting them from being overworked and at the same time helping directors get all parts of their vision fulfilled!”
WHAT DOES YOUR CREATIVE PROCESS LOOK LIKE?
“Our creative process is modeled after the creative process of the team that is seeking services from us. We plan an initial meeting with the team for the project where we establish trust, transparency, and comfort. It’s very important to us that a director just has to worry about their vision, and we will do our best to make that happen. We get a clear understanding of the director’s vision, and attach one of our co-founders to supervise the process and hold editors accountable for sticking to it. We also establish a full timeline, and establish the same comfort and transparency at the same time.”
poST ExploSIoN’S fAvoRITE pRojEcTS:
“One of our favorite projects was the FPS Freshman narrative from Spring 2024, Have A Nice Dream It was unique in that it was entirely stop motion made out of miniatures. Given that it was stop motion, clearly it was a project in need of a diligent and patient post team. Director, Jonathon Kirk Patrick, reached out to us, in need of VFX artists that could help remove all of the rigs used to make the stop motion. Co-founder, Elisa, supervised this project, and editors Caleb Jackson, Luke Lattore, and Colin Dowse all participated as VFX artists. The energy in the room during the screening in the Bill Bordy Theater a few weeks ago was electric, and we were so proud of everyone that worked on it. We were especially hyped when our Post Explosion logo played at the end and people cheered. We’ve never experienced anything like it! The success behind this project started a fire in us, and we’ve hit the ground running since.
Another one that we have been loving, is a film called Glory & Gore. What originally began as an EIV 10 minute pilot, has now becomes a 40-minute independent film. Inspired and dedicated directors Lyanna Rose and Gianna Cavarozzi, had scrapped, rewritten, and reshot the entire narrative, and had found themselves stuck in the post production process, after committing almost two years to this project. They reached out to us over the summer with the hopes to complete the project by the fall. In order to meet their needs we crafted a meticulous timeline, building a post team made up of nine people.
Supervised by co-founder, Julia, and sound designed by co-founder, Aadi, we wanted to have a good amount of input in order to make the final product the best that we knew it could be. The most fulfilling part with this project is seeing how far it has come, how hard everyone is working to help the directors bring their vision to life, and the genuine collaborative effort between Post Explosion and the Glory & Gore team.
It’s incredible to see how a project that struggled for two years is finally reaching its end goal through us. The most exciting part for us by far is that, soon this will be the first project from Post Explosion to be screened at a movie theater! On December 5th at the Coolidge Corner Theater in Brookline, pull up!
We thank the Have A Nice Dream Team and The Glory & Gore Team for believing in us, and we are so proud of the results!”
WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE TO PEOPLE WANTING TO ENTER THE FIELD?
“Just make things, no matter if it’s something big or small, funny or terrifying. But once you shoot it, don’t forget about the edit because there’s so much work to be done and so much fun left to be had.”
poST ExploSIoN’S fAvoRITE MEMoRIES:
“Early on, figuring out who we wanted to be and meeting constantly over the summer, especially Aadi who spent his entire summer working on ways to improve our initiatives. One of our favorite memories, shared by Julia and Aadi, is meeting up over the summer and building our website together. We spent the better part of three days brainstorming, designing the layout (in communication with our graphic designer, Sofia Belgiovine), and experimenting the best ways to engage our audience. Despite a few hiccups, we ended up with a simple site we loved, and it brought us closer as coworkers and as friends.”
WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN 10 YEARS?
“Hopefully doing exactly what we’re doing now, but getting paid.”
poST ExploSIoN’S fINAl REMARkS:
“Something we’re really excited about is the network of editors that we have connected with. There is so much undeniable talent we’ve encountered and we know that even for our specific individual projects, we’ll have editors we can trust and rely on.
If you have a project you need a post team for, contact us! Check out our Instagram, @postexplosion and website: https://sites.google.com/view/postexplosionproductions?usp=sharing
WE ARE HIRING EDITORS ALWAYS AND FOREVER!
(Seriously email us at postexplosionproductions@gmail.com)”
