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There’s never been a shortage in history of cat-inspired art. From engravings on ancient Egyptian tombs, to Japanese woodblock prints, to Victorian greeting cards, cats feature prominently in many influential art periods. I, myself, am a dedicated viewer of cat-related artwork. If you took a tour of my room (please don’t), you’d find upon the walls, among other cat decor, a Le Chat Noir postcard, an assortment of lucky cat figurines, an Aristocats poster, and, perhaps, an actual live cat sitting on my bed. To me, there’s nothing more worthy of artistic representation than a cat. The Mona Lisa? Uninspired. The Mona Lisa but with her face painted as a cat’s? A masterpiece. Given my elite taste in cat art, I thought I’d use my expertise to showcase three contemporary artists whose works are heavily influenced by the feline muse. I want to start with B. Kliban. Would you believe me if I told you that Kliban’s depictions of rotund, bug-eyed cats engaging in humorous activities such as drinking fish tea, or having a boxing match with a mouse, first appeared in Playboy? His cat cartoons grew so popular that he ended up publishing several books devoted solely to them. Oh, yes, Kliban made quite the profit in his lifetime from his signature merch, all thanks to his knee-slappingly clever feline creations. Kliban’s cats are a delight: their distinct personalities shine in each illustration. They’re the kind of cats that make you go, “Hey, that cat’s doing human stuff, but with a cat-related twist.” And who doesn’t love that? Kliban’s aesthetic is consistent, yet each cartoon is new and exciting, and dare I say, uniquely thought-provoking. For you have to wonder, when a Kliban cat stares into the mirror, donning his Groucho Marx glasses … what is it he really sees? Another artist famous for their experimentation in cat art is the imaginative Laurel Burch. Self-taught, Burch began her artistic career selling Jewelry in San Francisco, and, throughout the course of her life, has produced quite a repertoire of colorful, whimsical cats, as well as other animals, such as parrots, butterflies, and horses. Perhaps her works’ most notable feature is her use of bold pigments, which I find reminiscent of stained glass. When combined with her paintings’ natural inspiration, her colors create a whole other world, one that, for all its brightness, is incredibly calming. Like Kliban’s feline subjects, Burch’s cats or not what we might call slender. The head-to-body ratio of her cats adds to the magical atmosphere of her work. All in all, Burch’s art is a celebration: of cats, of nature, of life itself. I can never view her work without feeling like my day has gotten a little better. I will conclude with an artist who, unlike the former two, is still alive, and making recent contributions to the art world. Higuchi Yuko’s art can be described in many ways: fantastical, surreal, enchanting, and, yes, a bit creepy. But in a good way! Higuchi is a cat lover, tried and true: her relationship with her cat, Boris (a handsome lad!) makes her cat-inspired art all the more exceptional. The cats in Higuchi’s art are one-of-a-kind. Often standing bipedally, and wearing clothes that I would lovingly describe as indie-hipster-retro-chic, Higuchi’s cats are impossible to look away from. Go ahead. Try. See, you can’t! If you need more convincing as to Higuchi Yuko’s cool-factor, Gucci has recently collaborated with her, launching some stylin’ Gucci Junior/Baby clothes. So if you love Higuchi’s art, and have a Junior/Baby that you’re willing to shell out $400+ for, now’s your chance! Regardless, I suspect we’ll be hearing more and more about Higuchi Yuko as more people discover her awe-inspiring assortment of whimsical cats. Cat art is hard to pull off. Rarely are humans fully capable of representing cats on canvas with the justice they deserve. Yet, somehow, Kliban, Birch, and Higuchi manage to create cat-inspired artworks that an actual cat might view and think: “this piece of art represents my cat-ness to-a-t, and I wholeheartedly commend the artist for their exquisite craftsmanship.” I hope these artists and their work have inspired warm and fuzzy feelings within you, dear reader. Cat art is, I believe, a rare comfort in this rough and tumble world.

***CONTAINS SPOILERS*** The Haunting of Bly Manor on Netflix tells a horror story, a ghost story, a sad story, but most importantly, a love story. A love story that we needed. The limited series was released on Netflix on October 9th, and has since been the subject of buzz from the media. Bly Manor is the second installment of Netflix’s horror show, The Haunting of Hill House. Victoria Pedretti, who played a main character in Hill House, takes center stage in Bly Manor as an au pair to two children, Miles and Flora, after they lose their parents and their previous au pair. Pedretti’s character, Dani, works together with Hannah, the housekeeper, Jamie, the gardener, and Owen, the cook, to raise the two children in the eerie mansion. The “lady of the lake” haunts the manor, killing those that reside in it by choking and drowning them in order to avenge her own tragic death. Dani is also initially haunted by her ex-fiance, who died immediately after she broke off her engagement with him. Jamie, the gardener, helps her through these difficult times, and eventually their friendship develops into something more. Dani and Jamie’s love story goes how most love stories go--friends with sexual tension to eventual lovers. Despite the show taking place during 1987, there isn’t a focus on the legality of their relationship, which is refreshing for a lesbian love story. Most woman-loving-woman love stories or any LGBTQ+ love stories place an immense amount of focus on the hardships the characters face in coming out, existing as an LGBTQ+ person, and discrimination rather than the actual love story itself. The Haunting of Bly Manor creates an authentic love story, one where we as the viewers aren’t bogged down by the issues surrounding LGBTQ+ love. Yes, it’s important to acknowledge these hardships, as they are very real and often a coming-of-age experience for LGBTQ+ people. However, every single LGBTQ+ story does not need to remind us of hardship. The Haunting of Bly Manor leaves all the hardship to the horror, and allows Jamie and Dani’s love story to merely exist, as any straight relationship would. In the final episode, it is revealed that an older Jamie is actually the narrator of the show. She tells an older Flora, who has no memory of her time at Bly Manor as a child, the “ghost story” that she experienced. Flora, on the night before her wedding, responds with, “I liked your story,” she says. “But I think you set it up wrong. You said it was a ghost story. It isn’t. It’s a love story.” Bly Manor allows us to experience a woman-loving-woman love story, which so many of us simply need. We simply need a lesbian love that does not focus only on the plights of being LGBTQ+. Jamie and Dani’s relationship perfectly fits within the ghost story, and may even overtake that story with their own love.

Growing up in Hawai'i––an island some would consider a racial utopia (I certainly wouldn't)––it was rare to have discussions on race and privilege, especially about the Black experience in America. Being in such an isolated location made it feel as if we were immune to the racial inequities and injustices that plagued the "mainland," a term locals use to describe the continental United States. My friends and I would crack lighthearted jokes all the time, such as being "podagee" (Portuguese) for doing something in a foolish or incorrect way. I distinctly remember the day I heard about the Ferguson protests. I logged onto my Tumblr and the first image that popped up on my dashboard was a silhouette of a man against a burning building. I kept scrolling until I found a caption that explained what happened: a fatal shooting of an 18-year old Black man by a Ferguson police officer. My tears left salty trails down my cheeks as I read testimony after testimony of the injustice that Black people face every day. I wanted to jump on the next flight from Hawai'i to Missouri to rally in the streets and voice my support. I felt so helpless, sitting at my computer desk thousands of miles away. About a year later, I received a TIME magazine in my mailbox that had in big white font––the kind that you see on billboards or on the front page of the New York Times after a terrorist attack––the words "Black Lives Matter." Underneath the words were two still images, one of Walter Scott running for his life and the other showing a police officer pointing his gun as if he were at target practice. I later found out that these images were taken from a disturbing video that captured Scott's final moments. Nobody should ever have their murder publicized like that. My naive self thought change was going to happen; I mean, there's no way that the deaths of thousands of Black people by the hands of the police would be in vain, right? Now, it's 2020, and we're still marching because people just don't get it. People don't get that it's not enough to be "not racist," one must be actively anti-racist. People don't get that "Black Lives Matter" means all Black lives, including women, LGBTQ+, disabled, and more. People don't get that racism is so deeply ingrained within our institutions, from the law enforcement to our justice system, that using "systemic" to describe racism becomes redundant. People need to start doing more to support the Black community like buy from Black-owned businesses and advocate for racial sensitivity and diversity training at your places of study, worship, and work. Not this performative theater B.S. that has proliferated every social media page via a cute, comfortable black square that screams "I did my part, so leave me alone." Although the state of our country is currently grim, these photos are meant to bring light to those who believe all is lost. Because there's much to be hopeful for, like all of the Gen-Zers and millennials I saw on the streets advocating for racial justice. "Truth is on the side of the oppressed." - Malcolm X

What is the problem? Is there a problem with our usage of social media? Yes, and it’s impossible to give it such a succinct answer when the list of problems is extensive. The creators of different social media platforms such as Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, Tik Tok, and so on never intended for social media to be as harmful as it has grown to become over the years. By watching the documentary-drama film “The Social Dilemma”, I got an understanding of how much social media has affected my life. I highly recommend that everyone watches this film, and I hope it changes something within you as it did me. As I continue my article, I will highlight some key takeaways from the film that impacted me the most. We are lab rats. It is not a coincidence that your feed is filled with cat videos, because the people who work in the tech of these apps, engineer your feed to your liking. They know how much time you are in a pic, and they know your likes because of it. These apps are slot machines. We spend hours scrolling down to see what is new, and we click refresh to do it all over again. As we look at more ads, these people make more money. As we stare at different posts, they are using your psychology against you. “There are only two industries that call their customers ‘users’: illegal drugs and software” -Edward Tufte. Social media is a drug. This is an addiction that needs to be stopped. Social media is supposed to be an art of expression, but it is so much more than that. Likes were made to spread positivity, but it has also turned into insecurity. Is the reason I don’t get likes is that I am ugly? Should I photoshop myself to get more likes? Am I not enough? These questions bombard the minds of the Gen-Z, because we are used to what is fake, and we are drawn to it. Famous people who deny that they photoshop themselves to “look better” are making their followers insecure, so they do the same because they want to look like them, and they think that is normal. People’s mental health has been severely affected by social media, and its negative effects keep rising. That is a problem. People are confused about what is real and what is fake. Social media also exist as a “learning tool”, and as people keep reading about topics such as politics and current events, they feel they are learning, and what they don’t know is that the sometimes what they are reading aligns with their beliefs because as I said before, our feed is designed for our liking. This is how fake news comes to play. Fake news travels six times faster than real news, and an app such as Twitter is known to be a home for it. The people who invest most of their time on Twitter are most likely to keep watching videos and readings of these fake news to the point where they believe it. Tribalism is ruining us. If everyone is entitled to their facts, then what is true? It is not easy to change the mindset of someone, but we have to agree on what is true to navigate our problems. “It is not about the tech being the existential threat, it's the technology's ability to bring out the worst in society, and the worst in society being the existential threat”. The people who have built these things have the ability and responsibility to change it for the better. I know it is not easy to change one’s lifestyle that is overpowered by social media. Good things come with time. I suggest we try to limit ourselves and try to once in a while live in the real world, and not just on the screen. I challenge you to stop using your phone as soon as you wake up and as you are falling asleep. You will feel different, a good type of difference. It's time to open our eyes, look into the real world, and make up for the lost time.

Ah. The time has come at last. With the sweet goodbye kiss of the Hot Girl Quarantine Summer, our tan lines begin to fade and our minds go languid with thoughts of cinnamon and clove. Folks, freshly spent from your summers of slut-dom, lay down your SunBum and adjust your VSCO to warmer tones, for Mother Nature hath decreed… Christian Girl Autumn is upon us. As the Boomers would say, the “internet age” has sparked a phenomena of seasonal mascots to match our moods. I have to say, Christian Girl Autumn was new to me this September. Scrolling through endless Draco fanfic and that Vintage Acting Challenge guy on my TikTok For You Page, she appeared, clad in her polyester armor and booties, orange acrylics clenched around her weapon of choice: the Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte.Yes, you’ve seen her too, I’m sure of it. The stock photos that seem to hold the key to World Peace, the promise of a cozy autumnal hibernation, curled up on your couch reading Red, White, and Royal Blue and watching SNL. My first reaction? Dig out those knee-high combat boots from my middle school Hunger Games days and raid the Target Halloween section. My second reaction: why Christian Girl Autumn? After all, the seasons are secular. So I did a quick google search to find out. Turns out the meme was originally spawned by an NYC college student poking fun at the Martha Stewart esc stereotypes that fill Better Homes and Gardens during the autumnal months. So let’s be clear: Christian Girl Autumn has nothing to do with Christianity. It’s completely satirical, a spin on a stereotype. And I would argue, it is absolutely for everyone. Because friends, how I see it: Christian Girl Autumn is not an exclusive mold we must conform to. No, she’s a state of mind, and way of being that transcends our differences, and lends herself to all of our unique expressions and personal identities. Whether you're reading your Bible or your Tarot Cards, the important thing is that you're taking time to reflect, to surround yourself with comfort. You see, folks, Christian Girl Autumn represents a mental escape, an inner peace. We hide our woes under cable knit, and ward off the bad vibes with Pumpkin Spice Febreeze, and if none of that works, if in the end we get to November, or January and everything outside our frosted windows is still so very bad, well, at least we’ll still have all the pumpkin BS we baked. And denial is sweet isn't it? No, only kidding. We can’t ignore what’s going on around us. We can’t stick our head in our artisanal sourdough starters and block out reality. Because that’s more privileged than our Pumpkin Spice Latte addiction. It is incredibly wrong to think that simply because we want to, we can stop being cognizant of our surroundings, stop working to make things better. But we can remember that all of us are deserving of a breath, especially those of us who’s mental health has been tossed into a blender by an isolating quarantine, by staying at home, by the political atmosphere, by attacks on our loved ones or our own existence and autonomy. So whether or not you choose to clad yourself in plaid and polyester at the pumpkin patch, read up on witchcraft and Fall DIY projects, or even just throw on a pair of Halloween fuzzy socks and drink hot tea, you have a right to reclaim the balance you’ve lost, to be hopeful. Not ignorant, not complacent, not delusional, but hopeful. Because we’re all dealing with a lot right now. And really, I think we’re all looking for a sign from the world that things will get better. And that’s what autumn is, what the Christian Girl Autumn meme holds. It's feeling cozy and safe and letting the leaves change as the world takes stock of what it has and lets go of what's dead and weighing us down. It is progress. It is respecting your mental health and your needs. So go ahead, and Hocus Pocus your troubles away for a bit. Recharge this Christian Girl Autumn, and celebrate however you need to in order to find your hopeful spirit again. Because when it's all over, we’re going to need you at your best to put all those infographic sentiments you’ve been reposting into practice. To rake away the leaves. Happy Christian Girl Autumn lovelies, try to stay healthy.

Little white girls have Disney princesses and Hannah Montana to look up to. Teenage white girls use Allie from The Notebook and Rose from Titanic as models for their true love stories. Sure, BIPOC can look up to Disney princesses and dream of having a love story like Allie and Noah's, but still, their stories would never be the same. Little white girls don’t expect to fall in love on a sinking ship or have a small town love affair either, but they still get to watch people who look like themselves fall in love. Not only do little white girls know that they are capable of love and being loved because of TV and movies, but little white boys do too. Where does that leave everyone else? Many young BIPOC lead their lives believing that they will not have a true love story, because people who look like them on TV and in movies don’t either. A lot of the time in TV and movies, characters of color are one dimensional. Asian characters are nerdy and cringey. Black characters are sassy and usually a sidekick best friend. Latina characters are fiery and dramatic. Indigenous characters are so rare, and most of the time, they aren’t even played by actors who are Indigenous themselves. The point is, BIPOC don’t get love stories, and if they’re even a side character, it’s out of tokenism. When LGBTQ+ characters are in love stories, they’re often a sidekick best friend, and they’re almost always white, too. As a result of these stereotypes, BIPOC spend much of their childhoods thinking that the people around them are only attracted to white people. As time goes on, kids are impacted more and more by who they see on their screens everyday, and begin to mirror the stories told there in their own lives. BIPOC kids and teenagers begin to believe that they can’t be smart and funny and pretty at the same time because only white characters got to be all three. Most of the time, people of color characters only filled one of those characteristics out of tokenism. The lack of representation of different races and ethnicities on TV makes BIPOC, especially those who are LGBTQ+, feel unworthy, unlovable, and undeserving of some great story like those characters got. But the thing is, they DO deserve a great story. Everyone does. So we need to be giving those stories to kids who need them, the ones who need to feel like they are lovable. When Never Have I Ever came out on Netflix this year, I watched the whole thing, even though I'm probably too old and too mature for it. But the main character, Devi, got a love story. She got a love story that didn't push her Indian culture to the side, one that acknowledged her ethnicity and her want to feel lovable simultaneously. She was unlikeable sometimes, but it was real and she was everything I was in middle school. Devi is what I needed when I was in middle school, to tell me that I was normal, and worthy of love and drama and teenager things. TV and movies need to let BIPOC know that they are normal, and worthy of love and drama and teenager things. The lack of representation allows many BIPOC teenagers to live their lives feeling unworthy, whether that be of a depth in personality, love, or a career. In reality, we're not one dimensional. We're very real people, with wants and interests and dreams and love. Putting us in a show to say you ticked a box isn't enough. Give us stories. We need them. And we have them, just like the rest of you.

The past seven months have been a hailstorm of change and upheaval. Not only in the United States, but all around the world. Some of this change was sorely needed. Some of it still stings a little each time we reach to grab a mask on our way out our front doors. A lot of this change may have been hard to follow, especially if you’re trapped in your childhood home doing college online, like a lot of us are. The change that quickly spiraled into a global movement after the brutal murder of George Floyd by Derek Chauvin was certainly a change a long time coming. But if you’re like me, currently doing school from your suburban home town, it can be hard to feel connected to that change. So, if you’re interested in learning more about the history of the Black Lives Matter movement, racism in American, and the lasting impacts of slavery; here is a list of five books (both fiction and non fiction) to read while you’re studying from home. When They Call You a Terrorist: a Black Lives Matter Memoir by Patrisse Khan-Cullors and Asha Bandele This non-fiction memoir follows the story of Patrisse Cullors, one of the founding members of the Black Lives Matter movement. It not only explains the origins of the movement itself, but also the life story of Cullors and her childhood in Los Angeles. This is the perfect book to hand to your parents when statements like “a few bad apples” start getting thrown around at the dinner table during an argument about the criminal justice system. The story of Patrisse’s mentally ill brother, Monte, and how he was mistreated and tortured by the LAPD is truly heartbreaking. Cullors manages to provide information on the history of racism and police brutality in America while also telling the story of her journey to becoming a founding member of the Black Lives Matter movement. It’s quite the page turner, and an extremely informative read. The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander This non-fiction read seems to find it’s way onto almost every list of books to read on the history of race in America, and for good reason. Michelle Alexander captures the history of the United States criminal justice system and how it has targeted black men, destroyed communities of color, and upheld racial hierarchies in a post-colonial world. If you’re looking for a book to read to educate yourself on how racism has survived throughout the ages, then this is the book for you. The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett The first fiction novel on the list, Brit Bennett’s 2020 bestseller, is just as important and educational as any non-fiction book. It follows the story of two twin sisters who grow up in a southern, black community and run away at sixteen. Ten years later one twin now lives with her daughter in the same, southern town, while the other twin passes for white with her husband knowing nothing of her origins. We, as the reader, get to experience the intersection of their daughter’s storylines. This novel is not only a page turning story, but also an account of American racism from the 1950s through the 1990s. Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi Another story of two sisters, this novel follows their journey from Ghana to Mississippi. Taking place in the eighteenth century, the book tells the story of each sister and how their lives take diverging paths. Effia marries a rich Englishman, living a life of luxury in the Cape Coast Castle. Esi will be imprisoned in this castle and sold to a life of slavery in the southern United States. Gyasi goes on to follow the lives of these sisters' descendants through eight generations, down to those living during the Harlem Jazz Age. This is the perfect book for understanding the legacy of slavery through the stories of unforgettable characters. The Color Purple by Alice Walker Now I know what you’re thinking. Every English teacher and their mother has told you to read this book, right? Well, there’s a reason it’s a classic. This 1985 novel tells the story of Celie, whose letters tell the story of her life. Abused by both her father and her husband “Mister,” Celie struggles to define her selfhood. It is only through her righteous rage towards those who have abused her and her relationship with Shug that she is able to finally awaken toward her true identity. This novel is perfect for those looking to read a book about black femininity and sexuality. That’s right! I’m sure you’re english teacher forgot to mention that the relationship between Shug and Celie is more than just platonic. Or maybe that was just mine. Either way, The Color Purple is definitely a book that will keep you on your toes.

When entering the realm of LGBTQ literature it’s easy for readers to find ourselves within the same trap that we often do: being left with or gravitating to narratives centered around white, male stories. Lists of LGBTQ book recommendations often parrot the same titles, ignoring a large swath of literature out there addressing queer women, transgender people, and persons of color. Even in a community that prides itself on its “diversity”, LGBTQ stories are dominated by the same group that governs mainstream literature canon. That’s why I’ll be taking this post to highlight a few novels that venture beyond the stories we’re frequently told. By no means is this list comprehensive, but hopefully it will turn both LGBTQ and allies of the community onto a new range of reads. 1. The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon I admit myself to be biased on this choice, as it ranks as one of my overall favorite books. That being said, Priory of the Orange Tree provides an intricate narrative with its worldbuilding finding a basis in European, Middle Eastern, and Eastern Asian culture, geography, and legend. Priding itself as being a “feminist retelling of Saint George and the Dragon", the book largely focuses on its multiple female protagonists. A split narrative book, Priory finds itself mainly divided between the voices of Ead, a spy in the European-esque House of Berethnet dedicated to protecting the life of its queen in the case of her connection to a century-old legend, and Tane, a dragon rider seas away. Ead can be securely noted as the main protagonist of the story, placing a lesbian of color at the forefront of the story. Other characters are focused on, including a gay man, bisexual woman, and multiple characters of color. While the story is one of fantasy, legend, and political intrigue, sapphic romance plays a large role in its complex narrative. 2. Red, White, & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston Red, White, & Royal Blue focuses on the antagonistic, then friendly, then romantic relationship of the son of the president and heir to the royal throne. Even though it focuses on male characters and the questionable politics of the two countries, the novel is told through the lens of a mixed-race Latinx character and rightfully critiques the politics it wields. A friendship spurred on by a public fight between the two, the bond between the president’s son Alex Claremont-Diaz and the royal Prince Henry grows genuine. A story tackling homophobia, politics, and race, it is a must-read. 3. The Henna Wars by Adiba Jaigirdar This YA story focuses on the rivalry between two high school girls in their school’s business competition. Nishat, the story’s Bangladeshi protagonist, decides to do henna work for the competition only for her crush Flavia, who is black and Brazilian, and her white cousin Chyna to appropriate this practice for her own gain. A complex romance handling racism, cultural appropriation, homophobia, familial disapproval, and mixed-race identity, The Henna Wars dares to tackle issues often absent in queer romances, particularly those of the young adult genre. I won’t spoil anything, but the characters all learn and grow in their own way in order to connect with one another and recognize the mistakes and sacrifices they make along the way in order to beat one another. 4. Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado A set of short stories by author Carmen Maria Machado, every short story presents a narrative with a different female protagonists, many of which involving queer elements. A set of stories that often incorporate magical realism, Machado writes of women struggling in different ways with their patriarchal society. As many of these stories deal with issues of mental health, abuse, and other triggering elements, one may approach it with their own level of comfortability.

If you’ve seen the Devil Wears Prada, as not doing so would be robbing your soul, you have at least a small understanding of what the fashion industry can be like. Anne Hathaway aside, the movie’s true anchor is Meryl Streep’s character: a play off of the fabulously cold Anna Wintour, the artistic director of Conde Nast and Editor in Chief of Vogue. If you don’t know who Anna Wintour is, don’t blame yourself too hard. You’d have to be slightly obsessed with pop culture and fashion to fall into the realm where her name bears such heavy weight. To fill you in, she’s quite the cunning, British fashion mogul and she’s built her entire empire in her sunglasses (she never takes them off). Anna Wintour and Queen Elizabeth Even if you don’t know her name, you may have heard of a small get-together she throws every year: the Met Gala. Of course, small is an understatement; the guest list invites about 600-700 A-list celebrities and designers annually. Each year, the Met Gala has a theme created by its co-chairs, who Anna Wintour appoints. Last year’s co-chairs included Harry Styles, Lady Gaga, and Serena Williams. This year, co-chairs Emma Stone, Meryl Streep, Lin Manuel Miranda, and Nicolas Ghesquière (a fashion designer from Louis Vuitton) have chosen “About Time: Fashion and Duration” as their theme. This theme, according to Ghesquière, is inspired by French philosopher Henri Bergson’s concepts on la durée, or duration of time. The theme will explore how fashion associates itself with the past, present, and future. Alongside the red carpet, the actual exhibition in the museum will include Virginia Woolf as a ghost narrator. So, who should you look out for? Easy: Rihanna. In general, always look out for Rihanna. But, in terms of the Met Gala, she always steals the spotlight. In 2015, she donned a 55 pound, hand tailored, brilliantly golden, Guo Pei gown which could only be topped by her outfit for 2018’s Met Gala: a pimped out and bejeweled, Pope-turned pop-star. The latter was the same year she was a co-chair for the event. Zendaya is also one to look out for. Though a newer addition to the guest list, Zendaya’s parrot print, Dolce and Gabbana gown from 2017 was a greatly feted look that proved her a worthy addition to Wintour’s extravaganza. And, if you don’t already know, she wore a custom Tommy Hilfiger, Cinderella-inspired ball gown that literally lit up whilst she walked down the carpet. Zendaya’s stylist dressed up as Cinderella’s godmother and waved a wand over the dress to illuminate it. This look was undoubtedly inspired by a light-up gown by Zac Posen that Claire Danes wore in 2016, but the magic in Zendaya’s revelation was infinitely better. It’s difficult to deny the event’s pretentiousness. Collecting hundreds of some of the most celebrated and glamorized figures in the country and giving them a free dinner to discuss the art that they’re wearing isn’t the most lowkey of events. However, it is important to say that the Met Gala has made itself an apex of both fashion and pop culture. If not to see your favorite celebrities play Halloween for an extra night of the year, check out photos from the Met Gala to see the direction in which art and fashion are going and how they may even make statements about the strangeness of time.

*Editor's Note: piece contains mentions of rape and related topics This past month I attended one of the events from the Visting Writers Series at AU hosted by the Creative Writing MFA program. Christa Parravani was featured and spoke about her past memoir, Her, and shared part of the book she is currently writing. She spoke highly of the literature faculty at American and discussed her own experience as a professor at West Virginia University. I had previously read some of Parravani’s work in my LIT-107 Creative Writing class about the death of her twin sister prior to her twin sister’s rape. I already appreciated her style of writing and I learned to love it, even more, when I heard her read aloud. The excerpt she read from her new book was about her experience with abortion rights in West Virginia. West Virginia is infamously known for its conservative stance on abortion and this sentiment was echoed in Parravani’s experience. Upon discovering she was pregnant with her third child, she attempted to obtain an abortion and was essentially told that this was not possible. Parravani worried about her reputation as both a professor, a writer and a mother of three. She elegantly intertwined data about healthcare for new and expecting mothers (or lack thereof) in West Virginia with her own experience. The audience was taken aback when she informed us this was her first draft. Parravani followed her reading by answering questions from students and professors. One of the questions asked how she would explain this book to her infant son whom she tried to abort. She answered by explaining that she was writing this book for her daughters, not her son. She said that she will tell him he is loved but she felt an obligation to write this book in response to the restrictive abortion laws in America. Specifically, she wrote the excerpt she shared in protest to Amendment 1- an amendment in West Virginia further limiting abortion rights although the amendment ended up passing. The author was also asked about our permission to tell certain stories and what it means not to be able to tell a story. She answered that writers must give themselves permission to write their stories because no one else will. She felt that she needed to use her platform to discuss this debilitating issue in America. Although it is a difficult, even uncomfortable, subject to address, Parravani understands that it needs to be spoken about and she is one of the few women who is willing to share her story. I greatly enjoy Parravani’s work as she speaks from a place of truth. Her article about abortion, called “Life and Death in West Virginia” can be found online at Guernica Magazine’s website. I would highly recommend her memoir as well.

For the past few weeks my literature class has been reading the book Dodging and Burning by John Copenhaver. The book is a mystery that highlights queer culture and how queer people were treated in the 1940’s by looking at the relationship between two boys: Robbie and Jay. If you were to picture the book cover, you might imagine an obviously queer title covering a few pastel colors or abstract design. There would be a line towards the bottom that talks about how revolutionary this book is in queer culture today. It would be extremely obvious that the book you are about to read contains queer characters. John Copenhaver decided to do something a little different with this novel. Instead of the word “queer” plastered all over, the cover shows a picture of a murdered victim (something commonly found on the covers of mystery novels) and the title. No bright colors, rainbows, or inspirational quotes are present. Because of this, many of the people in my class, including myself, did not realize the characters in the book were queer until almost halfway through. Most of us couldn’t believe that a book, one that was not clearly advertised as queer fiction, contained a gay couple and history surrounding queer culture. This got me thinking; Why is it so rare for a character to be queer in genre fiction that isn’t clearly marked as queer fiction? Why does there have to be a category for queer fiction at all? Shouldn’t it all just be considered genre fiction? If we put things like queerness into its own category, aren’t we just promoting the view that queer people are not normal? Why do we put queer literature on a table by itself in the corner of a bookstore? The problem lies, not in the fact that a character’s homosexuality isn’t mentioned in the beginning of a book, but in the reader and their assumption from the get-go that every character is heterosexual. Society has ingrained the idea into all of our heads that people are straight until proven otherwise. This is problematic, because it results in erasure of queer people in society. If everyone is straight until proven queer, then is anyone really queer? It makes it seem less natural, and it adds to the idea that people choose to be queer, instead of being born queer. In order for our culture to progress into being more accepting and understanding of queer culture, queerness needs to be normalized. The end goal should be a society that does not assume the sexuality of a person. It should be a society that does not view queerness as a choice or need it to be proven. In order to achieve this goal, we as readers need to take the first step by not assuming the characters in the books we read are straight. Instead, we need to keep an open mind, and put our heteronormative culture behind us.

You know how in movies, people die, but then come back to life soulless, without morals, and unhinged? That is Tik Tok in a nutshell: Vine, but without a soul and unhinged. Vine was full of millennial humor that has now become somewhat obsolete. Tik Tok and Gen Z culture are on the rise today and the result is very ... interesting. The popular platform allows you to use music, quotes from movies, weird editing, and unique filters to make a wide variety of memes and videos. Tik Tok seems much more versatile than Vine, despite their similarities because Tik Tokers are more willing to push the envelope of the socially acceptable. Tik Tok users are truly willing to do and say anything. This does not necessarily mean their content is negative, sometimes it is just really weird. Humor and memes, nowadays, are often a mode of coping with our rapidly changing political and physical environment. And to an extent, are also made to come to terms with our distinct collective experiences. That being said, there are things on Tik Tok that make you wonder what has become of the world. Many kinds of memes appear on Tik Tok that are just generally funny and relatable like cute animal videos, digs at the Twilight movie franchise, and the "Ok Boomer" tag. This content does not set the platform apart. However, what does distinguish the app is its ability to capture the Gen Z (and also somewhat the Millennial) experience within a single platform. Many other social media communities are full of Boomers and Millenials and therefore provide only a diluted version of different generations and their experiences. What’s interesting is that Tik Tok is almost entirely comprised of members of Gen Z. Circulating throughout the app are distressing trends of speaking about depression, lack of disability rights, abuse, fear of climate change, and even darker subjects like school shootings. All of these topics are veiled by and coped with through humor. Tik Tok is also a place where young people explore their identities, whether that be cultural, social, or otherwise, through funny videos like growing up with [insert type of parent here] or I quit being [insert identity here]. Overall, I think every generation has an art form and Tik Tok is the art form of Gen Z kids. It’s a platform where Gen Z grapples with their past and come to terms with their future. All packaged within a funny video, of course.