Your Magazine Volume 21 Issue 2: April 2024

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 21 | issue 2 | APRIL 2024

ISA LUZARRAGA

Managing Editor

LILY BROWN

Creative Director

EMMA CAHILL

Editorial Director

ISABELLE GALGANO

Asst. Editorial Director

BIANCA LUND

Co-Head Stylist

JULIA MAGDZIAK

Co-Head Stylist

ANNA BACAL PETERSON

Co-Head Stylist

GRIFFIN WILLNER

Romance Editor

SOFIA VERANI

Co-YMTV Director

SEBASTIAN OLIVO

Co-YMTV Director

ISA MULÈ

Asst. YMTV Director

CHARLOTTE BRANDMAN

Asst. Web Editor

ASHLEY FERREr Editor-in-Chief

HAILEY KROLL

Head Designer

MOLLY DEHAVEN

Asst. Head Designer

LAUREN MALLETT

Asst. Head Designer

ALEKS CARNEY Co-Art Director

REBECCA CALVAR

Co-Art Director

LAURA VALENTINE

Photo Director

ARUSHI JACOB

A&E Editor

Lauren smith Living Editor

ISABELLA CASTELO

Asst. Living Editor

SOPHIA ROSSETTI

Web Editor

NIRVANA RAGLAND Diversity Chair

SYDNEY SWANn Asst. Diversity Chair

rachel tarby Copy Chief

SOPHIE HARTSTEIN Asst. Copy Chief

SARA FERGANG Head Proofreader

IZZIE CLAUDIO

Asst. Head Proofreader

gigi sipiora Style Editor

ELLA MORDARSKI Asst. Style Editor

OLIVIA FLANZ Asst. Style Editor

ELLIE BELCASTRO Co-Social Media Director

GABBY GOODE

Co-Social Media Director

VIVIAN NGUYEN

Asst. Social Media Director

Copy editors: Eden unger, aylin isik, callie liberatos, payton montaina, lynn vecchietti, madison lucchesi, nolan primavera, penelope parker, virginia clarke

GRAPHIC designERS: Isa luzarraga, Sara Fergang, Lily Brown, Lily Holland

Proofreaders: Sophie Hartstein, Maegan Marshall, Bernadette Nelson, Dikshya Pattnaik

CONTENTS

ROMANCE

HEARTBURNS

Abandoning the U-Haul

Bestie, YOU NEED TO BE BOYSOBER

HIDE FROM THE HEAVENS

The Highs and Lows of Low-Rise Jeans

BAGGU-LICIOUS

“SO MAKE THE FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS”

STREET STYLE

STAR CROSSED LOVERS

ME AND MY KODAK AGAINST THE CLOCK

WHAT’S THE HARM OF A LITTLE BODY CHECKING, RIGHT?

FAREWELL FLORIDA, SO LONG BOSTON, GOODBYE AMERICA

APRIL SHOWERS BRING MAY FLOWERS

SONG CYCLES

BEATLEMANIA AND THE ANTHONY FANTANO EFFECT

THE BOOKWORM THAT DOESN’T READ SONGS THAT PUT A SPRING IN YOUR STEP

GAIL ANDERSEN

Letter from the Editor

WRITTEN BY MEGGIE PHAN ART BY ALEKS CARNEY

HEARTBURNS

In less than two weeks, I had burnt two bridges: one was a boy I was dating for around three months, and the other was my best friend of almost three years.

I broke up with the former over text two days after Valentine’s Day, and the other broke up with me the week of my birthday. It all sounds like karma until you realize that both of them wanted to end their relationship with me because they were too scared to speak up.

Three months is a weirdly long but yet brief time. He was just a boy, there’s nothing else to say when you’re with suburban mediocracy. There’s no heartbreak when you’re not in love. So I’ll tell you the exact moment it was over: the last time he compared me to his ex. It started as little things: she was blonde, and my hair’s jet black. But he talked about her constantly to the point where I began to feel like she was our ex.

This wasn’t the only warning sign. I should’ve hit the ground running when he told me he was only four months out of his previous relationship. Or when he told me I was the first Asian girl he’d ever dated. Burning this bridge was easy—some would say necessary. I walked away with few casualties. Only a mild case of a bruised ego.

But with my best friend of three years, this was a different story.

We instantly connected during the first week of freshman year. Every moment since then could be condensed into one word, that was how easy it was to love them. This word is in Vietnamese, and I would use it as a special sentiment to describe what they were to me: “Quý,” treasured

Inversely, they grew a quiet resentment for something they still wouldn’t tell me I did. Now all that’s remembered is how their bottled up emotions erupted like Mount Vesuvius onto my city of Pompeii. Their scorned feelings flowed like lava to our immediate circle, burning everyone and everything in its way. Our mutual friends, our creative collaborations, and our relationship—like it didn’t matter to you anymore, all our friends were now disposable to you. Was it because they were a reminder of us?

Would it be easier for us if I had retaliated? Berated you, cursed at you, wished you never got hard again. Maybe hated them back. But I’m sorry I don’t know how to hate them when I look back on our years together with bittersweet nostalgia. I’m sorry I don’t know how to hate them when I think of all the times they’ve made me laugh, quickly followed by all the times they’ve let me down.

Every book, every movie, every song prepared me for heartbreak, but nothing could’ve prepared me to lose them. There is no feeling of shredded defeat like looking to lean on your rock to realize that that rock is the very person who betrayed you. And even if time passes and one day I forget all their little quirks, I’ll never forget how they made me feel.

I wish I could say something more concrete than this, but the truth is: You’ll always wonder why, and you’ll always search for an answer. But you’ll never find it because the two of you no longer belong to the same reality. History is not the past, but rather the construction of it. It won’t be easy to explain your past when you’re facing a revisionist historian.

I KNOW I’LL LOVE AGAIN. IT’S JUST A SHAME THAT IT COULDN’T BE WITH YOU.

You’ll also learn that time is the enemy of all relationships. You’ll hear “right person, wrong time” when you inevitably break up with the friend you thought was going to be by your side till you’re both in nursing homes or a lover that made you feel things you have only heard in poetry. But time is nothing but a bitter tether. Time keeps us holding on for too long, even when we know the relationship is nothing but a sinking ship. It’ll keep you up at night thinking how it all passed so quickly.

Author Ocean Vuong taught me that as Vietnamese people, we don’t ask people “Do you miss me?;” we ask “Do you remember me?”

So I’ll always remember that version of them that didn’t resent me, a treasured time capsule. Ain’t it funny how you’ll watch Drag Race and make playlists with another girl? You’ll drink boba and listen to K-pop with someone else. They were never mine, but I’m jealous when I imagine you doing everything I introduced to you with someone who isn’t me. I’ll always remember their McDonald’s orders, how their parents met, and all the boys they’ve had a crush on. And they’ll choose to forget that not too long ago, I was a friend.

To be loved is to be known; I knew them, they knew me. But still, they chose to run away. Safe to say that burning that bridge was against my will.

“I know I’ll love again. It’s just a shame that it couldn’t be with you,” I thought.

There are five stages of grief. Yet what they won’t tell you is that all these emotions won’t come in a linear stream. They’ll ebb and flow out of order. I bargained with you, trying to get an explanation of why you left. I was in denial that they played a part in the ending of our relationship. Even when I accepted my new reality, there was always a lingering thread of anger and sadness when I heard your name. I’ll debate deleting photos of my exfriend, even if I loved that memento. Your world will be tinted blue, but soon the sun will shine again, and you’ll be the whole person without your other half.

Then, you’ll walk past each other as strangers you know everything about. Maybe one of you will run away, but what’s the point when you’ve already shared a past? Say everything you can, and acknowledge where you were wrong even if it stings because it’ll help you sleep better at night. And when people ask where your other half is, be honest but brief. Wish each of them well because they’ll need it. They lost you. You’ll be the villain in their story, but so are they in yours. All is fair in love and war.

Reader, please learn from me. People always change, but the memories don’t. Let your true story be their fiction. YM

WRITTEN BY CHARLOTTE BRANDMAN ART BY LAUREN MALLETT

Have you heard of a U-Haul lesbian? And no, it’s not a masc woman with a backward Red Sox cap driving a rented U-Haul (although I’ve definitely seen a few). It’s an archetype for how fast some lesbians move in relationships. And as a lesbian, I can confirm we live up to this nickname.

My roommate, also a lesbian, went on a date in December. In preparation for the glorious union, we enacted every hypothetical scenario that could happen on the date. A dramatic streetlight kiss, the light brushing of hands, the sensual walk up the apartment stairs in Allston as she followed her new lover to her apartment.

So, we were taken aback when none of that happened. In fact, that date lasted a tasteful three hours and ended with a peck. We reeled about it for days, trying to understand what went wrong. Except, nothing went wrong. In fact, to most heterosexuals, my roommate had an incredibly successful date. So why didn’t it feel this way?

Well, U-Haul lesbians aren’t just a real-life archetype—it’s in our limited media representation, too. In a recent read for my blog, “Enemies to Readers,” I read Ashley Herring-Blake’s Delilah Green Doesn’t Care. The two main characters, Delilah and Claire, profess their love for each other within two weeks of meeting each other. To be fair, they knew each other when they were in high school, but… they weren’t close. I found myself put off by what we book bloggers call “insta-love,” especially because they were women of my own community. I wanted their love to grow over several months, not several days. And it doesn’t help they were participating in the infamous 12-hour-date.

As queer women, we’ve been trained to survive—no, not survive, prosper on the 12-hour-date. This 12-hour date includes three essentials: 1) love bombing, 2) trauma dumping, and 3) sensual eye contact. As a long-time lesbian (I’ve been out since I was 14), I’ve experienced all of these on dates, and the relationship always ends poorly. But my friends keep continuing their constant love bombing, trauma dumping, and sensual eye contact.

Love bombing has become a commodified term used to psychoanalyze our past situationships and toxic exes. But love bombing is a real manipulation tool. According to the Cleveland Clinic, love bombing is a “form of psychological and emotional abuse often disguised as excessive flattery.”

Many of my queer female friends have experienced love bombing but chalked it up to the honeymoon phase of a new relationship. But when a partner begins excessively flattering you, you’re more willing to overlook issues that could indicate a potential mismatch between you. When I was 14 and first exploring a queer relationship, my first girlfriend said she could see herself marrying me three weeks into our relationship. And I thought this was totally rational!

I mean, I’m pretty cool, so I get it. But if we’re not supposed

to be committing to marriage and kids on the first date, what are we supposed to be doing?

A first date is exactly what it sounds like: it’s the first time you’re sitting down with someone, having a meaningful conversation, and figuring out if you like them or not. And if you don’t like them? You get to leave! At least that’s how heterosexuals operate. But there’s something odd happening in the queer community that forces us to spill our guts on the first date.

There is no pressure to tell a person you’ve just met your entire life story. If you have deep-set trauma? No need to reveal yourself. If you have intense commitment issues due to a lying, cheating ex? Save it for the fourth date. Part of the reason we queer women find ourselves in a toxic relationship three months in is because we hear our date’s baggage up front without any time to process what they’re telling us and make an intelligent decision. For example, if someone says they have commitment issues, and you’re looking for a serious relationship, you’re allowed to not see them a second time.

I think at the root of these 12-hour dates, other than our queer connection, is the fear that this person is the last person who will show interest in you. The queer community is small but mighty— sometimes, the queer community resembles a web of exes, ex-friends, and ex-hookups. When you find someone who checks all of your boxes on paper, it’s scary to reject them because it’s hard to say when someone as good will come along again.

But part of the benefit of living in 2024 is that people are willing to explore their queerness more than ever. The queer community is growing as more young people recognize their queerness as a benefit rather than a deficit. Which means…you don’t have to settle for someone on the first date. If you want to go on a three-hour movie date and not commit to intimacy, you’re allowed to do that. I’d even encourage it.

I think masc lesbians should keep driving U-Hauls, just not to move in with the girl they’ve only met once. If this sounds like you, don’t fret because I’ve been there too. But queer love is about so much more than committing to someone out of fear that you won’t find someone else like them. Our community has grown significantly over the past few decades as people feel safer and more willing to come out. This means you have more wiggle room to be selective with your partners.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…let’s take a note from heterosexuals and chill out. First dates can be short, long, and everything in between. You can hold someone’s hand, kiss them, have a steamy makeout—or nothing at all. Everything is acceptable because it’s up to you

Keep dating, keep loving, and stay absolutely, unapologetically queer. YM

BESTIE, YOU NEED TO BE BOYSOBER

WRITTEN BY LILY BROWN

Idon’t know about you, but I am sick and tired of repeating the same dating-app disasters or finding myself stuck in yet another sour situationship. Swiping through those apps feels more like a chore than a chance at love these days. And don’t even get me started on those situationships that leave you feeling more confused than fulfilled. It’s like a never-ending cycle of disappointment. Nowadays, dating seems to be as easy as swiping left or right, but I think it’s time to break the cycle altogether. While it might seem easier to just move on from one person to the next, instead you should try avoiding potential partners, period.

But hey, have you heard about this concept of being “boysober”?

Coined by Brooklyn-based comedian Hope Woodard, being boysober means stepping away from romantic entanglements, regardless of gender, to break free from toxic dating habits. Celibacy has kind of gotten cool. Even though it can be nice to fill that void of companionship with sex, you need to do more to really “find yourself” in your love life.

And don’t get upset if you’ve been single for so long. Being single for a while is not a curse, it’s actually a blessing in disguise. As Woodard puts it, “You’re not single if someone is taking up space in your brain.” Boysober isn’t about feeling lonely or deprived—it’s about reclaiming ownership of your thoughts, emotions, and ultimately, your life.

PHOTOGRAPHED BY LILY BROWN

it: they can turn into a real addiction. Plus, they make us all feel like we have to be these perfect, idealized versions of ourselves. But guess what? That’s not real life. So, step away from the screen. Take a breather. Focus on making yourself happy first rather than trying to impress others. Trust me, it’s worth it. Instead, treat yourself to a little self-care date, if you know what I mean. Movies and maybe a little masturbation! This is the perfect way to promote self-love and personal growth.

Me, Myself, & I

Seriously, stop texting your ex. Texting them can feel like scratching an itch you just can’t ignore. It’s tough because they know you inside and out, right? But, let’s really think about it. Is reconnecting with your ex truly worth it? What once fit perfectly, may now feel constraining. Moving forward without revisiting past relationships can be challenging, but it allows for the opportunity to discover aspects of ourselves we may have overlooked before. And don’t try to be sneaky and settle with situationships. I know it might seem like the best case scenario to be unlabeled and have that go-with-the-flow mentality as you try to figure out your own stuff, but you’ll be questioning yourself and your partner’s intentions more than ever. By avoiding boundaries, you’re setting yourself up to be confused, misunderstood, and ultimately hurt. Embrace this opportunity to shower yourself with the love and attention you truly deserve.

The idea of not being able to date around might be daunting, but I believe that embracing the boysober lifestyle could surprise you in a positive way. Adopting the boysober lifestyle might not be as drastic as the premise of My Year of Rest and Relaxation, where the protagonist sleeps for a year to erase trauma and restart life, but it could still bring emotional clarity and inner peace to your relationships. Whether you commit to a year of self-discovery or just a few months, maybe being boysober is the answer.

Ditch your dating apps! That’s right. Delete Bumble, Hinge, and Tinder from your phone ASAP. I have recently, and I already feel less pressure on myself. Dating apps might seem like a quick fix to meet someone, especially if you’re a bit shy or busy. But let’s face

Lastly, it’s time to bid farewell to those warm hugs and sweet kisses because we’re hitting pause on all the physical stuff. Leave the sex behind and keep things platonic for the time being. I get it, you might be craving some physical closeness (seriously, I feel you), but hold off for someone who truly values you. This isn’t about swearing off intimacy forever, but about saving it for the right moment with someone who really sees your worth. I promise it’ll be worth the wait.

For 365 days, experience the benefits of being sober from partners and their drama. Instead, redirect your time and energy toward personal self-love to free yourself from the constant stress and worry of modern relationships. Trust me, it’s a choice you won’t regret. YM

Hide from the Heavens

DIRECTED BY ISA LUZARRAGA

PHOTOGRAPHED BY ISA LUZARRAGA

ASSISTED BY EMMA CAHILL AND BIANCA LUND

STYLED BY BIANCA LUND

MAKEUP BY SAELA PHILLIPS

MODELED BY LIAN’A RAYE SOOPAL AND ANDREW BOVA

THE HIGHS AND LOWS

WRITTEN BY OLIVIA FLANZ

The fashion trend cycle is rewinding everything back to Y2K fashion. This means many early-2000s staples have risen from the dead: bell-bottoms, leg warmers, and of course, lowrise jeans — a piece of clothing that I hated for the longest time.

I can still remember being 10 and absolutely despising low-rise jeans. At the time, I didn’t even know pants could be high-rise, so I would wear leggings every day to avoid wearing jeans or any other low-rise bottoms in general. It wouldn’t be until middle school that I realized jeans can in fact go above your hip bone. No shame to Britney Spears, but I couldn’t wrap my head around why someone would willingly want to wear low-rise jeans. I just felt so exposed whenever I wore them. You’re never able to sit down, as the pants expose even the tiniest amount of belly when seated. I always thought there was no way to wear these jeans and actually feel confident in how you look while being comfortable. That is until this year when I saw a pair of jeans I thought were cute. I tried them on and, to my surprise, I didn’t hate how they looked on me. The biggest surprise…they were low-rise.

For the first time in over a decade, a pair of low-rise jeans were willingly added to my closet. But now, whenever I wear jeans, I can’t help but wonder what happened? How did my brain do a total 180 when it came to low-rise? What finally clicked that now makes me think this style looks good?

The first thought that came to my mind was that I was unconsciously following the trending Y2K style. Maybe after seeing too many Pinterest boards, OOTD TikToks, and outfit inspiration videos, the internet’s obsession with early-2000s style finally seeped into my mind. Clearly I’d been brainwashed, and in a couple of months from now, when everyone including myself is finally over it, I would go back to thinking low-rise jeans are just as unappealing and uncomfortable as I did when I was 10.

But something about my theory seemed…off

Like yes…we are all a bit brainwashed by the trend machine. Whenever there is a popular

OF LOW-RISE JEANS

trend, people are bound to follow it. According to social identity theory, it’s all human nature. We ultimately follow trends to fit in, which humans have been doing to survive for years—with people who fit in as the “in-group,” and those who can’t as the “out-group.” What was once a survival instinct for us is now reduced to subconsciously following the leader and following cycles that last about every 20 years. Well, trend cycles used to last 20 years. Now the trend cycle feels too saturated. Because, yeah, Y2K is trending, but so is coquette, and so is every other aesthetic clothing piece that can be found on Pinterest. Like, just because low-rise jeans are in, it doesn’t mean high-rise jeans are suddenly out as they would have been years ago. We used to have concise and solid trend cycles able to distinguish what is “in” versus “out,” but now the lines are blurred. The trend cycle is so broken that it honestly feels like anything could be considered “trending.”

This is why I think my new love for low-rise jeans isn’t for some phase; I just happened to try low-rise jeans at the right time in my life. The narrative for low-rise jeans was much different in the early-2000s. Low-rise seemed to only fuel diet culture since it was advertised to only one body type. Meanwhile “Mom Jeans,” or high-rise jeans, were advertised for older women and women in general who don’t fit this perfect mold and “can’t” wear low-rise jeans. It also implies that once you are a mom you need to cover your stomach…but that’s a whole other barrel of monkeys.

But today, low-rise is more often being pushed for all body types, embracing curves and tummies in general. There’s less pressure to feel like you need to suck in your stomach just to ensure your stomach constantly looks flat. Your body isn’t going to look the same as you get older. Heck, your body doesn’t look the same throughout the day, so why have we been trying so hard to prove that it does? With this lessened pressure, it makes sense why I, like many others, have given low-rise jeans another chance. Unlike when I was younger, I don’t feel pigeonholed to wear one style of jeans, but instead, I have the freedom to try the different varieties that jeans have to offer.

So sure, maybe I am in fact brainwashed by some fad, but I have also grown to learn that I can wear any jeans, low or high, comfortably. YM

PHOTOGRAPHED BY LAUREN MALLETT AND SOFIA VERANI

BAGGU-licious

WRITTEN BY GIGI SIPIORA

My mother is a bag lady. I grew up fishing bags out of bags out of bags, trying to find the right one to carry my sleepover necessities, while she dumped multiple tubes of red lipstick and old gum from one purse to the next. We were never in shortage of totes, handbags, clutches, or crossbodies. Outside of packing my galaxy Jansport backpack for school, or one of my mother’s bags for sleepovers, and overnight trips—I wasn’t a bag girl. They felt too girly for me. How was I even meant to hold them? By the ends of my fingertips with a bent elbow? Or in the crook of my elbow accompanied by a limp wrist? It was too complicated for me, I already had trouble figuring out why it was cooler to only use one strap of my Jansport.

Entering my junior year of high school, my friend group and I decided that backpacks were lame. Even lamer if you carried them on one shoulder. Instead, we wore totes. Totes were totes in. While I could agree that these tote bags did feel somewhat “cooler” than my normal backpack, I didn’t love the feeling that I was becoming a bag lady myself. Totes are a gateway bag: first, you pick one up at a farmers market to hold your cheap flowers and thrifted sweater, then the next thing you know you need to subscribe to The New Yorker for the free bag. I rode the tote wave up until college, occasionally attempting to dabble in mini backpacks and crossbodies. Everything felt too big, too bulky, or just the opposite—too flimsy, too dainty.

My birthday has always been a marker for the end of summer for me. Aug. 1 is the day when the hottest of the hot days come out, and generally when all my friends head out of town for their last trips of the summer. In August 2021, I got one of my favorite birthday gifts to date: a dark green, crescent moonshaped, Baggu bag. It was love at first wear. The shoulder strap, wide and reminiscent of a branded seatbelt, fit perfectly on one shoulder without sliding off. Watch out totes! I instinctually slung it over my head and rotated the strap so the actual bag part of the bag would lay on my back. I felt straight out of Newsies, and I loved it. The pockets? Massive. One main pocket, which I soon learned, easily fit a double bottle of wine. The other two were quickly stuffed with loose change, emergency celebratory candles, Calico Critters, just-in-case jewelry, three different types of gum, and my favorite mini journal and matching mini pens. I’d never felt more confident; there was nothing I felt that suited me more than this green crescent I’d now decided to permanently attach myself to. I brought it everywhere with me; we were inseparable, and for a good reason. The gift redefined my end of summer blues as the beginning of a new and Baggu-licious era.

Going out to lunch with my parents? Baggu. Plenty of pockets to fit leftovers in! Going to the beach? Baggu. It’s waterproof! Going out

PHOTOGRAPHED BY LAURA VALENTINE

for a night on the town? Baggu. Your friends are going to thank you for all the ample wallet and lip gloss space you have!

Born in 2007 and based in San Francisco, Baggu began by offering one standard bag in a variety of colors. While their success wasn’t immediate, their emphasis on cute and stylish but environmentally friendly bags pushed their brand into the spotlight. Almost 18 years later, Baggu has become much more than just a bag. The company’s growth has spiraled in an almost fantastical way— moving from their basic, reusable shopping bags to now boasting over seven styles of bag, each with their own patterns and colorways. In addition to constantly seeking collaborations with popular brands such as characters like Hello Kitty and well-known music artists like boygenius, the brand has pushed beyond the bounds of bags as we knew them.

With the brand’s heart lying with its commitment to designing products that produce as little waste as possible and are meant to last, the use of recycled materials in their bags is what allows the brand to keep simple yet admirable designs flowing. Limiting their materials to recycled nylon, recycled leather, and recycled canvas allows for more experimentation with bag design and also creates a recognizable brand identity for consumers.

The versatility of the materials used to create the bag also lends itself to a versatile range of consumers. The bags are sturdy, meant to last, meant to hold a bunch of stuff, and to be comfortable to carry. Any and everyone can appreciate a bag that holds its own and looks good doing it. But what I didn’t realize, until my bag received compliments from both a new mother pushing a double stroller and from one of my favorite baristas at my favorite coffee shop, all within the span of thirty minutes, was just how versatile the bag was. They each uttered the phrase as old as time itself, “Oh my god! That fill-inthe-blank is so cute, where’d you get it?”

That day, it hit me. Baggu. Is a bag…For U! For me! For everyone! The classic Baggu silhouette is suitable for not only any occasion but any person. I have seen my same dark green, crescent Baggu bag on countless people—never styled the same, never dominating an outfit instead complementing it, and never empty. Baggu carriers know that if you can fill it up until the chunky zipper barely shuts, why wouldn’t you?

Regardless of how you identify, or what you need to hold, everyone deserves to carry their things in style. The idea that purses are just for women, or that they are only for bag ladies, swam in my mind for years and years, but the community I have built through this bag has proved otherwise. With Baggu’s popularity only increasing, I feel excited to meet my fate as a bag person and can’t wait to continue to grow my collection. YM

So make the friendship bracelets

“So Make the Friendship Bracelets:” AN ODE TO HANDMADE JEWELRY

WRITTEN BY SARA FERGANG

ART BY CHRISTINA CASPER

When most people think of friendship bracelets, they think of the colorful string bracelets you would make at summer camp to trade with your friends. Or they think of the latest concert trend (thanks to Taylor Swift), where concertgoers put lyrics and inside jokes on beaded bracelets that relate to the artist and to trade with other fans. Friendship bracelets will always have heartfelt meaning; there’s something about handmade jewelry that feels extra special because someone took the time and effort to string the knots together or pick out a certain mix of beads.

Handmade jewelry has existed for ages, tracing back to some of the earliest civilizations. Then, it was made with animal bones, teeth, and shells. It’s always been truly one-of-a-kind because no knot, bead, or piece of thread is ever the same; everything from glass beads to tying knots to create chevrons and spirals is selected and made for another person with care.

I’ve been making friendship bracelets since I was seven years old, and I haven’t stopped. I went from “candy stripe” string bracelets to Rainbow Loom name bracelets to soda-can tab bracelets and back to string bracelets. I love selecting the perfect combination of colors and a complicated-looking pattern. I also love sitting down for hours and getting lost in a bracelet pattern, knowing that the final product is for someone I care about; it’s my favorite type of self-care.

Two years ago, I worked at a summer camp for eight weeks. I lined my wrists with handmade string and beaded bracelets of various colors and patterns. My bracelets of choice were thick string bracelets made with teal, shades of purple, pink, and white, knotted from patterns from Pinterest, and simple, colorful beaded bracelets made from the plastic pony and alpha beads. I remember my supervisor complimenting my bracelets; it felt great to tell her I made them.

After she joked about wanting one, I knew my mission was to make her the perfect bracelet. And once I did, she didn’t take it off for the rest of the summer. For a while, I felt out of place at my job, but her appreciation for my creation by wearing it made me feel like I belonged. Who knew that just a few pieces of string could comfort

me, even when they’re not on my wrist?

There’s a specific aesthetic tied to wearing handmade jewelry, especially friendship bracelets. That feeling is reminiscent of childhood summers—the smell of sunscreen, bug spray, and firepit s’mores. Stacking different textured and patterned bracelets on your wrist while letting the strings fray, shows your commitment to the pieces you’re wearing, a commitment that usually lasts if the jewelry is customized to you. Sometimes, this commitment also represents your lasting relationships with the people in your life. It’s more than just a statement piece or accessory, it’s a tangible display of your bond with another person.

But handmade jewelry is more than just string and bead bracelets. For example, pressed-flower pendant necklaces and clay charm earrings can be found on Etsy, an online store that sells handmade and vintage items. Most vendors on the site customize their options for every consumer, so no two products are the same. Artists deserve compensation for their hard work, and when they list their products on Etsy, customers know that their money is going to someone who puts thought into each of their unique products.

There are real benefits to making handmade jewelry. Not only do they help regulate fine motor skills and visual perception, but there’s a true difference in quality. The individuals who create these products source their materials from local craft stores or even other handmade sellers regarding bead selection. A lot more time and effort goes into handmade jewelry, so a machine can’t replicate the level of detail needed to tie each knot or string on each bead. And as a jewelry maker, I’ll never get over the feeling of walking into a Michaels and perusing the bead and string section with awe. My grandma would joke that without me, Michaels would run out of business!

I don’t think I’ll ever stop making or wearing handmade jewelry. It helps me feel creative when I face major burnout and connect with other artists, as we understand the time and energy it takes to create something unique for others. So, as the great Taylor Swift once said, “Make the friendship bracelets!” YM

Name, pronouns

“Quinn Blackwell, she/her”

How would you describe your personal style in three words?

“Vintage, trendy, basics.”

Where do you typically get outfit inspiration from?

“My sisters and Pinterest.”

If you could only shop at one place for the rest of your life, where would it be?

“Thrift stores.”

Celebrity style icon?

“Emma Chamberlain.”

What are three pieces of your wardrobe you can’t live without?

“Basic long sleeves, low rise jeans, and colorful shoes.”

INTERVIEWS AND PHOTOS BY GIGI SIPIORA AND LAURA VALENTINE

G I G I

Name, pronouns

“Gigi Sipiora, she/her.”

How would you describe your personal style in three words?

“Warm, hoarder-chic, stacked.”

Where do you typically get outfit inspiration from?

“My lovely friends.”

If you could only shop at one place for the rest of your life, where would it be?

“eBay.”

Celebrity style icon?

“Serena Huges (wamwogs on Instagram.)”

What are three pieces of your wardrobe you can’t live without?

“Leather bomber jacket, silver star necklace, brown and pink Adidas.”

ENHPADName, pronouns

“Daphne Bryant, she/her.”

How would you describe your personal style in three words?

“Fun, nostalgic, sustainable.”

Where do you typically get outfit inspiration from?

“2000s teen magazines, Pinterest, and my friends.”

If you could only shop at one place for the rest of your life, where would it be?

“Any thrift or vintage shop.”

Celebrity style icon?

“Jessie Mesa.”

What are three pieces of your wardrobe you can’t live without?

“My black platform sneakers, brown fur coat, and cargo utility pants.”

A L E X A N D R A

Name, pronouns

“Alexandra Smallwood, she/her.”

How would you describe your personal style in three words?

“Chic, edgy, sophisticated-casual.”

Where do you typically get outfit inspiration from?

“Model off-duty paparazzi pics”

If you could only shop at one place for the rest of your life, where would it be?

“Loewe.”

Celebrity style icon?

“Kendall Jenner, specifically in Bottega Veneta campaigns.”

What are three pieces of your wardrobe you can’t live without?

“My leather jacket, my sunglasses, my baseball hats.”

Name, pronouns

“Kasey Armstrong, she/her.”

How would you describe your personal style in three words?

“Street, masc, fem.”

Where do you typically get outfit inspiration from?

“Pinterest and the 90’s.”

Celebrity style icon?

“I don’t know her name, but she is a light skin gorgeous girl from TikTok.”

What are three pieces of your wardrobe you can’t live without?

“My huge light-wash jeans, red sweater with two stripes, burgundy platform loafers.”

KBERE C C A

A S E Y

Name, pronouns

“Rebecca Sampson, she/her.”

How would you describe

your personal style in three words?

“Y2K, grunge, pink”

Where do you typically get outfit inspiration from?

“Pinterest, other socials.”

If you could only shop at one place for the rest of your life, where would it be?

“Victoria’s Secret Pink but in 2009.”

Celebrity style icon?

“I love canfgru on Instagram.

What are three pieces of your wardrobe you can’t live without?

“Black Juicy track sweater, Miss Me jeans, Uggs.”

STYLED

MODELED

DIRECTED BY EMMA CAHILL AND LAUREN MALLETT

PHOTOGRAPHED BY EMMA CAHILL

BY ANNA BACAL PETERSON AND LAUREN MALLETT

BY GRACE LENORE AND AMINATA MARSHALL

During my first semester of college, I heard this phrase (and several variations of it) from everyone. Peers, mentors, professors, and anyone older than me had something to say along the lines of, “You’ll blink and miss it.” I was told to be present in each moment, journal about everything, and take a million pictures. I wish I had listened.

The true gut-twisting gravity of this warning about how quickly time passes didn’t hit me until my flight home in December. Tears formed in my eyes while I stared down from my window seat as the Massachusetts coastline became Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and, eventually, Maryland—a home that I wasn’t quite ready to go back to. I tried scrolling through my photos from the semester, but they didn’t quite encapsulate everything I had been through and learned. So much was missing. My moment of wistful reflection became numbing fear.

This unwavering sense of dread sparked a need to start capturing everything. Sure, there’s virtue in letting things live in your memories, but I was freaking out about time passing and developing an increased sense of sentimentality in the process. So, this past Christmas, the only gift I wanted was a digital camera. Not a nice, professional camera—I wouldn’t know what to do with it. No, the simplest pointand-shoot, please. When I explained this to my dad, he was dumbfounded by the idea that I’d rather capture my life in grainy flash photos than use my higher-quality iPhone camera. Still, he did his research, and on Christmas morning, I became the mother of a maroon Kodak Pixpro FZ55. The pictures blur slightly at the edges. The focus is mediocre at best. It emits a stupid jingle when I turn it on. In short, it’s perfect.

But, honestly, my dad was on to something. Why did I feel the need to own another piece of technology? It’s not rational, and there’s no doubt that the trend cycle got to me. TikToks along the lines of “POV: you’re the ‘digital camera friend’ racing to upload all of the pictures after the function” consistently go viral. A few of my friends own and cherish a “digicam” and have Instagram accounts dedicated to these photos. But I think there’s something more behind this digital camera renaissance: a desire to disconnect.

Mobile phones are exhausting. Well, social media is exhausting, and it’s difficult to have a phone and avoid social media entirely. I’m well aware that I spend too much time on my phone, and I’d love to take a break from Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, all of it—but it feels impossible. Sometimes, I don’t want to look at the screen anymore, but I also don’t think I could live without it.

Using older technology creates the opportunity to exist in a middle ground. Think of owning a record player in the digital age with almost universal streaming services like Spotify and Apple Music available on our phones. What’s the point of collecting physical copies of your favorite albums? I don’t have a record player, but my friends who do say that it feels authentic. It feels real. It’s tangible. It has absolutely nothing to do with the phone in your pocket.

This is exactly how I see my digital camera. When I was growing up, my grandfather owned a digital camera, and it’s been passed to me. It’s unusable now, but the contents of his SD card tell a powerful story. He eventually bought a mobile phone but still chose to preserve countless moments using old tech. There are pictures of me and my cousins as little kids, my grandmother napping on her couch, and mountains in Wyoming from a trip many years ago.

Today’s college students grew up just before the age of “iPad kids,” and many of us remember older technology with fondness and nostalgia. Using my digital camera brings me back to a time of childlike innocence and joy. There’s less pressure to get the perfect photo; I care more about the moment of yelling “squish in closer” at a giggly group of friends. The Kodak pictures exude so much life behind their blur.

I could be wrong. There’s absolutely something hypocritical about my theory that a digital camera severs us from our phones: plenty of us turn around and post the best of our digicam pictures on Instagram for everyone to see anyway—so much for disconnecting. But, at least for me, there’s room for balance. Plenty of moments remain unseen and will live on my SD card until the end of time. My Kodak holds heinous selfies of my roommate and me, captured as we fought brutal Boston winds to pick up dessert on my 19th birthday. It holds mirror photos from the Paramount studios, taken after late nights of improvisation and choreography sessions. It holds a painfully blurry picture of a soft pretzel that my friend bought when we went to the women’s hockey Beanpot championship game at TD Garden. These are for me to look back on when I go home again in May, working through my shock at how my first year of college flew by faster than the planes I travel back and forth in.

I know that carrying my Kodak around won’t make time any slower, but it has helped me focus on staying grounded and present in each moment. The hour hand on my clock seems to race against itself, so what else can I do? You don’t need a digital camera to build these skills by any means, but it’s worth hopping on eBay to browse some options. Or, brave the judgemental questions and ask your family if anyone has an old camera. You never know what you’ll capture, and some point-and-shoot photos may just ease the panic. YM “It’s

Me and my KodaK AgAinst the ClocK

WRITTEN BY NORAH LESPERANCE

PHOTOGRAPHED BY ISABELLE GALGANO

What’s the Harm of a Little Body Checking, Right?

If you’re anything like me, the first 30 minutes of your morning routine is spent in bed on TikTok, scrolling through countless nonsensical skits or the hot gossip of the week. It is all fun and games until one video catches your eye. A girl is standing in front of the camera pulling up a baggy t-shirt to reveal her midriff, or maybe she is showing off her new bikini or a new outfit, turning to the side so that the camera can see every angle of it.

Some of these videos are more extreme than others, but they all fall under the trend of “body checking.” Girls will have their partners try to wrap one arm around their waist and drink a cup of water, and there are challenges to see how small one can get when they tighten a corset. These trending videos are starting to dominate social media. Many don’t think a simple video on the internet can cause that much harm, but it can.

Popular TikTok content creator Lara Quinn thinks so as well. Quinn made a video responding to one of these body checking videos, and with 687.6k followers, she is one of the only big influencers speaking out against this phenomenon. “Everyone body checks, they just don’t post it,” Quinn said. Most people take notice of their bodies when they look in the mirror. This is normal and isn’t harmful in moderation.

When people start doing it publicly, it becomes problematic. The more people see creators on the internet posting videos showing off their idyllic figure, the more aware they are of their own bodies, leading to the dangerous side of in-person body checking. This includes wrist measuring, fat pinching, and compulsive weighing on the scale. While it may seem like an innocent video, it could start a cycle of toxic habits and a warped sense of self that is hard to unlearn.

Body checking videos tend to disguise themselves in wellness videos and outfit checks. These posts are also the ones that gain the most traction because they are easy to disguise.

“When an influencer is under scrutiny for posting body checking videos, they deflect,” Quinn said. It is easy to deflect when the video in question has in the caption #fitcheck, or #wellnessroutine.

Lifestyle influencer Beca Michie made a particularly harmful video according to many TikTok users, including Lara Quinn. In Michie’s original post, which has since been deleted, she shows off her outfit by lifting her shirt with the camera positioned to make her waist the focal point. When she was called out for this, she responded by complaining about not being allowed to innocently show off her outfit as a skinny individual. Michie raises a valid point, but in this video, she stares blankly at her body and turns to the side to better accentuate her figure.

The comments under videos like Michie’s are concerning to

WRITTEN BY ANNA BACAL PETERSON

ART BY LAUREN MALLETT

say the least. “I have to stop eating [for real],” says one commenter. “Oh what the hell, there goes my confidence,” says another. Although the creator didn’t make these comments, she isn’t addressing them. She may not be able to control every comment on her page, but being an influencer means that there are people watching you, and there is a certain amount of responsibility that comes with that.

On the internet, hardly anything is real. “Lifestyle influencers curate their entire brand, and a part of their brand is being thin,” Quinn said. “They have the resources to buy their organic groceries, and they have a whole production team behind them working to protect their image.”

A lot of the popular creators who participate in body checking are also models, such as Michie and Julia Ernst, and they have certain expectations on them to keep a specific body type. The problem isn’t that they’re creating a facade around their lives, but that they are making it look achievable to others by not prefacing the resources that they have. Some influencers are known to doctor their posts on FaceTune, a popular Photoshop-like app. Nothing on the internet is real, but that is a hard fact to accept when these allegations are not being acknowledged by the influencer.

The newest addition to these body trends has been “legging legs.” Similar to the “thigh gap” craze on Instagram and Twitter in the late 2010s, #legginglegs describes the ideal legs for athletic wear. TikTok tried to put a stop to these videos. Now, whenever you type the phrase “legging legs” or “body checking” into the search bar, you are met with a white screen that says “You are not alone,” with links to an explanation on what eating disorders are and how to spot them, and the number for the National Alliance for Eating Disorders.

While this is a good attempt to filter out these videos, it’s not hard to outsmart these blockers. I found all of the body checking videos included in this article by misspelling one word, like leaving the “k” out of “checking” and the “e” out of “leg.” The only way that these videos can stop causing harm is if TikTok takes more precautions with the content that is being posted on the app. In a perfect world, the app would do a better job at monitoring their content and setting up stricter age requirements for certain content.

At the end of the day, the most important thing to remember is that social media posts are just snippets of the best parts of people’s lives. It is hard to scroll through people’s fake perfect lives without feeling inadequate. Everyone has their own insecurities, and while it is easier to admire a body when it is through a screen instead of through a mirror, you are never alone. YM

NatioNal associatioN of aNorexia Nervosa & associated disorders HelpliNe: 888-375-7767

Farewell Florida, So Long Boston, Goodbye America

WRITTEN BY VARA GIANNAKOPOULOS ART BY LAUREN MALLETT

The only thing worse than Florida is being from Florida. Since my escape to Boston, whenever I tell people my home state, I’m met with concerned faces, the pitiful “You poor thing,” or people literally backing away from me in fear. I don’t use “escape” as a hyperbole. If you’ve kept up with Florida’s politics or environmental issues over the past few years, which seems to be the rest of the country’s favorite guilty pleasure, you’ll know that as an AFAB queer nonbinary person, I’m not wanted, nor do I want to stay there. It’s my hell, and that’s not just because I hate the heat.

Boston was number one on my list of desirable “Get me out of here, I don’t care where” destinations for college. It seemed perfect: my rights secured, a place with like-minded people, city life, and seasons (who knew there was anything other than hot, hotter, and big storm). My quintessential blend of Gilmore Girls and Good Will Hunting. My dad and I came up to look at schools, and I fell for the city.

What I discovered throughout my journey at Emerson College was that it was an unrequited love. It began with the realization that this city (mostly this school) is comprised almost entirely of pseudo-woke performative activism. Living off campus is a disaster as the housing crisis ensures no one can afford anything in neighborhoods that don’t rhyme with Smallston or Hummerville. Then there’s the not-surprising absence of jobs for a Creative Writing major post-grad. It’s clear the Athens of America does not love me back. Don’t get me wrong, the city has been kind to me as a college student, but after my impending graduation next May, wherever will I go?

After my freshman year, I took a leave of absence to pursue music. I went on tour as an opener for two months in the middle of the fall semester and spent the rest of that school year splitting my time between Florida and LA to record music. What I learned: I hate LA. I’m still chasing that dream, but after a year, I needed to escape my parents’ home and Florida for the second time, so I returned to my

kinda-sorta safe haven, Emerson.

As much as my immigrant parents would love to welcome me back into their home after I graduate, and as much of a privilege I recognize this to be, I cannot and will not be satisfied with settling back into a place simply because it’s easy. I don’t consider myself much of a Swiftie (I care about the environment), but this lyric from the GOATed Folklore album encapsulates a feeling I know “All Too Well,” “I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want, just not home.” There is no going back for me. I must look elsewhere.

NYC? Didn’t you hear? Men are publicly punching women in the face on the streets, and no one’s doing a damn thing about it. How about Chicago? I know I said I don’t like the heat, but I don’t want to freeze my nonexistent balls off either, thanks. Okay, what about Oregon or Washington? Great, while you’re at it, give me the keys to the Cullens’ seethrough home and a trust fund because that’s the only way I could afford it. Texas? Didn’t I already mention I’m a political refugee? Even moving to a picturesque small town in New England feels like a compromise of jobs and opportunities. There is no winning.

At this point, I might as well spin a globe blindfolded because any city in this country would have the same problem: it’s in this country. Maybe I’m a pessimist who doesn’t appreciate the privileges awarded with being from the U.S., but I don’t feel like staying on a sinking ship. My parents are from Greece, so I’ve always toyed with the idea of living in Europe. Growing up, I was of the assumption it costs a hell of a lot more than living in the States, but now, when you break it down, it’s about the same—if not less—depending on where.

Hemingway once said he could only write about America once he’d left it, and I think the only way I’d grow to forgive Florida and, even more, America, is to leave it. Emigration is whispering its siren song, and I’m a mesmerized sailor who can’t help but dive in. YM

bring May flowers April showers

Song Cycles

WRITTEN BY TIERNEY MCKEOWN PHOTOGRAPHY BY LAURA VALENTINE

Every other summer, my family and I would take a trip to our favorite shore in New Jersey—Sea Isle City. Along with the abundance of towels, sunscreen, and bathing suits packed, there’s one thing we’d never forget—a speaker. Since my dad and aunts were always on aux, you would expect to hear a lot of Red Hot Chili Peppers, Fleetwood Mac, and, of course, The Clash. My cousins and I would wake up to the sound of our family bustling around in the kitchen, making coffee or tea and dancing to “Rock the Casbah” by The Clash. Right off the bat, this track had the ability to get everyone up and moving, especially my grandma, who had the best dance moves of us all.

I’d often mess up the lyrics of the chorus, “Rock the Casbah,” by replacing them with my own— “Rock the asphalt.” Although my lack of knowledge about the song would receive the utmost laughter, it marked so many wonderful moments of my childhood. I’d play it over and over on my iPod Touch, in the car, and on my CD player at home. There was never a dull moment when “Rock the Casbah” played. As years passed and I began to develop a music taste of my own, I’d completely forgotten about the catchy tune that defined my childhood.

Funnily enough, the same song I heard blasting in my family’s rented beach homes echoed throughout my room just a couple of weeks ago, and I was instantly transported back in time. Nostalgia flowed through my body, and I immediately perked up to ask my roommate what the title of the song playing was. “Rock the Casbah,” she replied nonchalantly. I couldn’t believe it. How could I have forgotten the song my family and I were utterly obsessed with? I FaceTimed my dad and told him what I had rediscovered. “Rock the

asphalt, you mean?”

At the beginning of the year, my roommate Siena and I were complete strangers. All I knew was that she enjoyed constantly blaring music through the room just as much as I did. Posters of The Cure, The Pixies, and Radiohead decorated her wall, and I quickly deemed her music taste as “dad rock.” Her passion for these artists, along with many others, brought me back to my beloved Jersey Shore, the passenger’s seat of my dad’s work truck, and my older cousin’s Sweet 16 surprise party, just to name a few. To me, music tends to stick to its devoted listeners like glue. Although I hadn’t heard “Rock the Casbah” in years, I still remembered all of the timing of piano riffs, the chorus, and the quirky laser sounds featured in the fourth verse.

At midnight on my birthday, Siena played “Rock the Casbah,” and the same for her birthday that followed just the next month. The second the sound of drums hit her speaker, our friends were up and boogying in celebration of our 20th and 21st birthdays. It brought me back to old times, reminding me that music is timeless, and in that moment, so were we. Now, the track defines two significant eras of my life—fond memories from childhood and blossoming connections you make through young adulthood. Music has the power to bring back lost memories while simultaneously creating new ones. It also evokes emotions you’d never think would resurface. Songs like “Rock the Casbah” have the same effect as so many others because music is held in a special place in both our brains and hearts. So thank you, The Clash. Maybe I’ll forget about your song again and hear it randomly play somewhere another 10 years down the road. The only difference is that I’ll get the lyrics right this time. YM

beatlemania and the anthony Fantano eFFect

ART BY ISA LUZARRAGA WRITTEN BY CLAIRE DUNHAM

Hugging myself against the icy breeze, I instantly regret wearing a thin leather jacket as I journey down Tremont Street toward Royale, a lively concert venue located in Boston’s historic Theater District. I pass the building’s entrance and continue down the block to join the line. The sidewalk is flooded with dozens of people clad in fantastical gothic and renaissance-inspired dresses, all waiting anxiously to see Britain’s hottest new rock band: The Last Dinner Party.

Filing into the venue, I glance around, utterly entranced and awestruck by the daring fashion choices all around me—pastel corsets are secured tightly with shiny ribbons, white intricate lace brushes the dirty pavement, and glossy, black platform shoes peek out menacingly from billowing silk maxi skirts.

Electric energy buzzes through the air, and I overhear the clamor of fans in line—some talk excitedly with their friends, while others reach out to strangers, complimenting their outfits and striking up conversations. Despite the chilling wind and standstill line, I can’t help but smile to myself as I absorb this touching, picturesque moment.

But my mood suddenly shifts as I start to hear the conversation taking place directly in front of me. I overheard the two men describe The Last Dinner Party’s fan base. They conclude that the band has a split fan demographic: “average” female fans, many of whom were in line waiting that night, and a small group of men who “actually appreciate the music,” also known as the “Fantano Fans.”

As a self-proclaimed music lover and the current music coordinator at a Boston-based radio station, I have encountered my fair share of misogynistic indie men. Sometimes they express their hatred loudly and unabashedly. But other times, they let their biases lurk silently under the surface, until one day, they accidentally let it slip.

This brief moment of eavesdropping sparked my deep dive into the “Anthony Fantano Effect,” and the ways these men represent a new (digital) wave of condescending, misogynistic music fans.

As a YouTuber and the self-appointed “Internet’s Busiest Music Nerd,” Anthony Fantano specializes in online music criticism. With 2.84 million subscribers on his official account and 1.73 million subscribers on his second channel, Fantano has been a defining voice for music enthusiasts since 2009.

Due to his large following, many of his positive reviews have the potential to turn subscribers into full-blown fans of artists. Ultimately, I think this is a good thing as Fantano frequently reviews up-andcoming artists, including underappreciated female and non-binary rockers like The Last Dinner Party. This exposure can expand fan bases and convince viewers who are not typically included in these bands’ target audiences to check out their music.

Problems start to occur when overtly misogynistic people start to infiltrate these music spaces. Based on the conversation I overheard, I’m going to assume that the duo standing in front of me discovered The Last Dinner Party through Anthony Fantano’s video review. While this isn’t inherently a bad thing, it became one. Blinded by their bias, they refused to see their fellow fans as equals, despite the fact that they were waiting in line that night to see the same band and hear the same music as everyone else.

This disrespect toward female-dominated fandoms has been present throughout the history of music, and this phenomenon is particularly present in rock ‘n’ roll history with Beatlemania serving as a primary example.

Around the world, fans flocked to see The Beatles, who dominated popular culture and were considered the rock ‘n’ roll sensation of the 60s. Today, the band is still regarded as one of the best rock acts of all time, so much so that many college-level music courses now exclusively cover The Beatles.

However, even though much of the band’s early commercial success can be attributed to the teenage girls who bought their records in bulk, screamed uncontrollably at their concerts, and urged radio stations to play their songs, female fans of The Beatles continue to be disrespected.

To this day, male rock lovers routinely clarify that their love of The Beatles is “different” than the love young female fans experience—this is eerily similar to the way the aforementioned “Anthony Fantano fans” explained their love for The Last Dinner Party.

It is implied through these offhanded comments that men have the capacity to appreciate music on a deeper level than non-male fans. Despite this claim’s apparent invalidity, it remains deeply rooted in popular culture. Each time a man engages in this casual sexism, he attempts to push female and non-binary fans out of music spaces. To be on the reciprocating end of this hatred can be disheartening and deeply frustrating. But as I have gotten older, it has made me appreciate the power of female-dominated music spaces. Whether it be a showstopping concert or a local record store’s listening party, I am filled with a deep reverence every time I enter these spaces.

When I finally shook off the Fantano bro’s degrading comments and walked into the dimly-lit Royale on that chilly March night, I felt that reverence and power pulsating throughout the room. And as the band took to the stage, dressed in their own flashy costumes complete with an assortment of hyper-feminine frills and bows, I felt an unshakable feeling of joy. YM

The Bookworm That Doesn’t Read

WRITTEN BY HAILEY KROLL

PHOTOGRAPHED BY NAIA DRISCOLL

As a literature student and self-proclaimed bookworm, there’s a certain sense of panic that arises when someone asks that dreaded question, “What’s your favorite book?” The last book I read that I deemed a “favorite” was from high school. That was only a few years ago, so why didn’t that feel like a valid answer? The truth is, I haven’t read enough since then to even begin choosing a favorite. Books are an integral part of who I am, yet I’d lost sight of what it meant to be a reader. I began reminiscing about times I’d read regularly and found myself nostalgic for the little girl that was captivated by every page they read. The childlike wonder of opening a book, my only worries in the world being Geronimo Stilton’s latest adventure or the newest Rainbow Magic installment, became something completely of the past.

At college, where the entire basis of your schooling is completing various readings, the last thing you want to do is read some more. At the end of the day, I need a brain break. I put on a mindless show or movie to provide comfort without overworking myself. Or, worse, I start doom scrolling. The thought of picking up a book, no matter how much I’d love to read it, feels heavy and overwhelming. There needs to be a separation between academics and pleasure, but there is an overlap when you’re a reader.

I’ve tried forcing myself to read, shoving stories down my throat, hoping to eventually start resonating with the story enough to be trapped. However, that just creates a space for thoughts to swirl and the mind to venture elsewhere. Forcing something that used to be a passion can create resentment toward yourself for not feeling the same about that particular hobby anymore. In the long run, reading for recreation can emphasize the academic burnout you’re already experiencing if not done properly.

Between working multiple jobs, engaging with student organizations, attending classes, and completing homework, the only moments I have to sit down and read throughout the day are brief. There’s a lack of time to sit with and truly focus on what’s in front of me.

Over the last year, I decided that I’d had enough of school impacting this passion of mine. I took the summer to

fall back in love with reading, integrating it into my morning routine. This didn’t last when the academic semester started, so I regrouped in the first few days of 2024 by downloading Goodreads and setting a reading goal of 24 books this year. I absolutely highballed it, but I’m determined to use this goal in exploring what reading habits work best for me. It’s an ongoing process, but here are some tips I can provide for anyone experiencing similar difficulties or wanting to begin their reading journey:

1. Download Goodreads and set a reading goal. Being able to connect with friends and others online creates a community of readers at your fingertips. I can see my friend’s progress, make lists, and read reviews.

2. Set one day a week when you’re not working on any schoolwork. This one may be hard, but it will feel gratifying to use reading as a reward for completed assignments. Having one day a week dedicated to reading allows the mind to focus on the world in your hands rather than the one around you.

3. Audiobooks!!! This one seems counterintuitive, I know. An audiobook is just a podcast, right? Wrong. Podcast hosts speak directly to you, usually sharing some sort of real-life words of wisdom. Audiobooks still hold the weight of worldbuilding—with exceptions of certain genres such as “selfhelp.” I had several unfinished books on my shelf, unable to read them to completion, but wanting so desperately to cross them off my reading list. I spoke with a friend, voicing how I wished reading had the same multitasking potential as turning on a television show. She assured me audiobooks were different from podcasts and informed me that by turning one on, I could still fit storytelling into my day. She was right. Getting ready? Audiobook. Walking to work? Audiobook. Need mental stimulation while cleaning? Audiobook.

Now, when my peers ask me my favorite book, I give my high school favorite and my college favorite. I don’t feel the need to pick just one, or pick any at all. I’ve learned that when I’m honest about academic burnout impacting my reading goals, I find deeper connections than if I simply respond with my typical robotic answer. I’m a reader, and that’s all that matters. YM

songs that put a spring in your step: WORKOUT YMP3

The Steps - HAIM

Femininomenon - Chappell Roan

Von dutch - Charli XCX

Oh No! - MARINA

Buzz Me In - Remi Wolf

Her - Megan Thee Stallion

Don’t Hurt Yourself (feat. Jack White) - Beyoncé, Jack White

Bulletproof - La Roux

Can’t Get You Out Of My Head - Kylie Minogue

ALIEN SUPERSTAR - Beyoncé

Too Slow - Maude Latour

National Anthem - DE’WAYNE

Sundress - A$AP Rocky

Breathe Deeper - Tame Impala

COFFEE BEAN - Travis Scott

Endlessly - Omar Apollo

Like That - Future, Metro Boomin, Kendrick Lamar

Steppas - A Boogie Wit da Hoodie

Plain Jane - A$AP Ferg

Money - Leikeli47

Down Bad (feat. JID, Bas, J. COLE, EARTHGANG, Young

Nudy) - Dreamville

Ascension (feat. Vince Staples) - Gorillaz, Vince Staples

Let It Happen - Tame Impala

Obsessed (feat. Ashley Sienna) - Sophie Powers, Ashley Sienna

I Could Be the One (Avicii vs. Nicky Romero) - Avicii, Nicky Romero

Not My Fault (with Megan Thee Stallion) - Reneé Rapp, Megan Thee Stallion

Imma Be - Black Eyed Peas

BIZCOCHITO - ROSALÍA

CUFF IT - Beyoncé

Pursuit Of Happiness - Extended Steve Aoki Remix - Kid Cudi, MGMT, Ratatat, Steve Aoki

Bonfire - Childish Gambino

Lemon - N.E.R.D., Rihanna, Pharrell Williams

HUMBLE. - Kendrick Lamar

Feather - Sabrina Carpenter

ArtistStatement

Describe your work in one sentence.

I am a former makeup artist, who focused on punk-rock/metal bands for photoshoots and live performances, as well as dabbling in femme and masc cosplay and event-specific makeup (birthday, prom, photoshoots, magazines, etc).

How and when did you get into makeup art?

I got into it in high school when I was in my emo/scene kid era (lol). I loved doing more dramatic looks and looking up online how to do different types of styles as well. I started to get really good at it and was asked by close friends and connections to do makeup for them for events. And then some close friends of mine asked me to do makeup for their band! From there, I did some freelance makeup for people. It was short-lived but very fun while it happened.

What inspires you?

Nothing much inspires me since I usually ask my clients what they want to look like. I range from natural looks to more dramatic evening looks, punk/rock/metal aesthetics, vibrant, as well as some special effects. So whatever the client wants, I try to provide!

Why Makeup Artistry?

It just kind of happened! It was a fun hobby that I was passionate about. I loved buying new products, trying them, and seeing what would work. I taught most of my friends at the time how to do makeup, as well as buying them products that I had tried and thought they would like for their skin type or aesthetics.

Who are some of your favorite creators/artists?

Without going too much into cancel culture, I will say I did watch most makeup videos from 2014-2019, haha. That would include some very famous ones that most people have heard of. If there is one that I can mention it would be NikkieTutorials. She is a trans makeup artist and her work with glitter and vibrants was really attractive to me when learning different techniques.

What is one of your favorite looks you’ve made? What makes it special to you?

My favorite look that I have made has to be the one of the images featured. The one with a rainbow eye and holographic glitter cut crease with gemstones. I had done that look in 2020 when I was in lockdown. I was bored and wanted to continue doing makeup art with my newly found free time. It was short-lived, as I had mentioned but very fun!

What advice would you give other/new creators?

Sanitation is important! I always wear gloves when I do makeup. It can make it a little harder at times, but with the right practice and techniques, it will be fine. Be sure to listen to your client’s preferences and boundaries. For example, I will let someone else do my makeup except for my eyeliner and mascara. I just have my own look and style for those.

Gail Andersen

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

I have not done makeup professionally in a while. But in the future, I can still see myself doing my friends’ makeup for fun when they ask. I did my friend’s makeup for their birthday this year.

Where can readers see more of your work?

I used to have a makeup account, but I took it down. It’s not something I plan on doing more in the future super in depth, but I will sometimes post a cute photo if I think my makeup or someone’s makeup that I had done looks cute!