Classifieds
Call: #734-418-4115
Email: dailydisplay@gmail.com
ACROSS
1 Cabo’s peninsula
5 Stupefy
10 Earthy shade
14 “Don’t have __,
man!”
15 Jennifer
Saunders’ “Ab
Fab” role
16 Room service
challenge
17 Simba’s mate
18 Pack animal?
19 Shrewd
20 Port
23 Heavy weight
24 It may need a
boost
25 Port
34 “Mean Girls”
actress
35 Instrument heard
in the Doobie
Brothers’ “Black
Water”
36 Lived and
breathed
37 Uncompromising
38 __ nus: barefoot,
in Bordeaux
39 Hilarious one
40 Scotch datum
41 Construct
42 Friend of Jerry
and George
43 Port
46 Org. with a
square-rigger on
its seal
47 Jungle swinger
48 Port
57 Ointment additive
58 De Valera of
Ireland
59 “Dies __”
60 Array of options
61 Urban air
problem
62 Reposed
63 Rear deck
64 Blush-inducing
H.S. class
65 House meas.
DOWN
1 Judicial seat
2 Smoothie fruit
3 Cola named for
its intended effect
4 Football squad in
white jerseys,
typically
5 Lagging
6 Time change?
7 Turbaned
Punjabi
8 Selective Service
classification
9 Blue Devils’ rival
10 Homeowner’s
account, perhaps
11 Kind of sandwich
or soda
12 Tiller opening?
13 Taxi alternative
21 Unlike new
clothes
22 Indian tourist
mecca
25 Like some pond
growth
26 Blacksmith’s
need
27 Copper?
28 Like Wrigley
Field’s walls
29 Many a flower girl
30 Acknowledge, in
a way
31 “It’d be a dream
come true”
32 Judd matriarch
33 Legally prohibit
38 One of Disney’s
official eleven
39 Perfume staples
41 Forum infinitive
42 Yokum cartoonist
44 Garage service
45 Agitated
48 Where much tie-
dyeing takes
place
49 Kitchen bar
50 Prohibition
51 Tone down
52 Camera that
uses 70mm film
53 Move like honey
54 Modern-day
Mesopotamia
55 Newbie
56 Commonly
anchored
shelter
By Bart Beisner
©2017 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
01/13/17
01/13/17
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
RELEASE DATE– Friday, January 13, 2017
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
xwordeditor@aol.com
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STYLE NOTEBOOK
Once, Anna Wintour made
eye contact with me and I
almost peed.
That’s the story I tell when
people ask me what I do “on
the job.” In one month, I will be
headed back to Manhattan for my
fifth season interning at New York
Fashion Week. As always, I am hes-
itant to tell those around me where
I’m really going for those seven
February days, for fear of being
pinned a “humble-bragger,” or
receiving endless coos of unjust
admiration and jealousy. When
I tell people I’m working Fashion
Week, they seem to overlook the
“working” part entirely, so I just
give them what I know they want
— juicy little anecdotes without
any substance, like my lackluster
Wintour encounter. In the eyes of
many of my friends, I’ll be skipping
school this February to attend a
star-studded affair in Manhattan.
Though they aren’t technically
wrong, a few key aspects of my
work at NYFW consistently go
unnoticed.
I pay my own way. I spend
my own money on my own
flights to my own unpaid job. I
have worked other jobs, saved
money from gifts and sold my
old clothes so that I can accom-
modate my internships. I am
not asking for pity — I come
from an upper-middle-class
family where money has never
been an issue, and therefore
have the rare opportunity to
pursue ventures that involve
little-to-no pay. Rather, I am
trying to shed light on an
industry that outsiders (and
even some insiders) view as
full of unrestrained glamour
and drama. From my vantage
point, it’s easy to see that fash-
ion is full of humility. It is a
universe populated by everyone
from artists to models to pro-
duction specialists. No matter
their trade, each individual is
controlled by a select few cor-
porate giants, generally under-
paid unless they manage to
make it big.
Be it New York, London,
Milan or Paris, Fashion Week
sucks the life out of everyone
involved. No matter their job,
anyone who has ever worked
a Fashion Week could tell you
that it is a grueling seven days,
both physically and mentally.
Though I have worked two very
different jobs over the course of
my NYFW career — social media
correspondent for a modeling
agency and celebrity escort for
a backstage lounge — each left
me with a maximum of four
hours of sleep a night and a
brutal cold by the end of the
week. Not even the most beau-
tiful models are exempt from
the ubiquitous Fashion Week
eye bags (I always joke that
mine are Prada). Emergen-C
tablets are given out at every
venue like souvenirs. Each of
us works vigorously in hopes
of fulfilling traditionally unre-
alistic deadlines. All the while,
we must elicit stylishness, our
faces blotted and our outfits
impeccably chic, to ensure that
bystanders view Fashion Week
as the elitist affair it pretends
to be. We may not be doctors or
lawyers, but that doesn’t make
the fashion industry any less
invested
and,
subsequently,
overworked.
Save for Us Weekly, nobody tells
you that stars truly are just like us,
even during NYFW. In fact, affili-
ated publications likely don’t want
you to know how “normal” many
celebrities are despite their cir-
cumstances. After all, media out-
lets receive most of their Fashion
Week related traction from celebri-
ties who use their online platforms
to create a covetable facade of a life.
In September of 2016, headlines
noted that Kylie Jenner sat front
row at Prabal Gurung’s show, but
failed to mention that she was likely
being paid to attend, another shift
of her extremely well-rewarded,
yet never-ending job. Season after
season, blogger Leandra Medine of
Man Repeller is regularly featured
in magazines’s “street style” broad-
casts, yet none show the young
businesswoman hurriedly jetting
from show to show, taking rushed
sips of Blue Bottle coffee (a NYFW
staple — ask anybody) as though
she fears her cup will run away. The
same principle reigns when applied
to celebrities’s most down-to-earth
behaviors. When Jenna Lyons,
creative director and president of
J. Crew, asked for a photo with a
lowly intern (i.e. me) after a show at
Milk Studios, not one reporter took
notice. Like many other human
beings, Lyons did not feel comfort-
able having solo shots taken that
day, and instead opted to use me as
a means of diverting the spotlight,
if even for a moment. That kind of
raw humanity does not jive well
with the image of Lyons contrived
by the media — intimidatingly
stern and all business — and so they
simply left it out. In the most frank
of terms, envy and fear make New
York Fashion Week profitable.
It’s true — Anna Wintour is
scary, and capable of evoking
involuntary bodily functions.
But New York Fashion Week is
more than a brush with fame,
or even clothes on a runway.
It is practically its own being,
layered with great and poor
qualities alike. It jerks real
tears out of its victims, but
always winds up giving them
some of the most memorable
experiences of their lives. That
— you know I had to end this
way — is something that will
never go out of style.
TESS GARCIA
Senior Arts Editor
Intern Insight: the various travails
of working New York Fashion Week
We may not
be doctors or
lawyers, but that
doesn’t make the
fashion industry
any less invested
SIMON & SCHUSTER
Tilikum died how he lived, a prisoner of human greed and need for spectacle.
‘Loner’ a pertinent read
In 2015, Brock Turner, a
freshman at Stanford Univer-
sity, was found atop an uncon-
scious female, hidden behind
a dumpster, by two passing
cyclists. The girl, whose name
was never revealed, later testi-
fied to being unconscious, as
did the cyclists who found her.
She didn’t remember Turner
and she didn’t remember initi-
ating any sexual activity with
him. She woke up with dried
blood on her body and pine
needles in her hair.
Turner, behind a barrier of
well-paid attorneys, told a dif-
ferent story: one of a typical
college romance that springs
from
alcohol-fueled
college
parties. He said they left hold-
ing hands, she had slipped and
then they kissed. A fairytale
romance, it must have been,
especially for the girl who woke
up with blood on her body and
pine needles in her hair.
In recent years, these stories
have become more and more
familiar in the media sphere.
Fraternity parties that lead to
outrageously high blood alco-
hol content and girls with the
word “no” floating on their lips
— these are a formula, espe-
cially at universities, that we
all know too well. And all too
often they end in six months
leave — three, if the perpetra-
tor displays “good behavior.”
But take away the alcohol
and add obsession. Remove
the darkness and stickiness
of a fraternity basement, and
add the ivy walls of Harvard
University. Take away lowered
inhibitions and add agency, and
we get Teddy Wayne’s “Loner,”
a story told from the point of
view of David Federman, an
incoming freshman at Harvard.
A boy who never stood out
and was always pushed aside
in high school, David yearns
to be someone special, and
he believes that Harvard will
grant him this.
The first day of school, David
sees Veronica, a girl so utterly
perfect in his mind’s eye that
he idealizes and romanticizes
every aspect of her. He seeks
out her classes and stages casu-
al run-ins just to glimpse at her.
He enrolls in the same classes
and eagerly writes entire essays
for her. She comes from an
entirely different world than he
does, one taken from the heart
of Upper East Side Manhattan
and all the freedom and riches
which that upbringing affords.
And so David fixates, and he
follows. The entire novel, read-
ers are buried deep in David’s
thoughts, seeing and thinking
everything he is. And what is
so attracting about his char-
acter is that we find ourselves
rooting for him. His unsettling
knack for manipulating Sarah,
his girlfriend and Veronica’s
roommate, is disturbing and
occasionally
upsetting,
but
often swept aside as excusable
due to her presentation as an
obnoxious and whiny creature.
His fixation on Veronica, which
escalates to an unnatural and
violent degree, comes across
as a simple crush for most of
the novel. She encourages; he
reacts. She speaks; he follows. It
is the obsession that stems from
the romanticization of those we
adore. It is a crush that anyone
who has ever waded through a
stranger’s Facebook page can
understand.
Remember, this is all told
from
David’s
perspective.
He is an intelligent boy who
worked hard enough in high
school to get into Harvard on
merit alone. His presumed air
of intelligence is what defines
him, and ultimately reveals to
the reader the unsettling nature
of how this boy sees himself in
comparison to those around
him. He is intellectual elitism
at its worst. When his essay is
praised by a professor in class,
he entertains grand fantasies
of becoming this teacher’s TA
before the semester ends. He
assumes an air of superiority
towards his roommate and his
girlfriend despite having come
from the high school lunch
table of rejects and loners. His
elitism and entitlement runs
rampant on a campus where
half the students are bred
from and raised in families of
those exact character flaws.
Even they though can’t seem to
ascend to the same height of his
self-made pedestal.
Left alone, these faults form
the vision of a narcissistic boy
who has never been told he is
wrong. When placed beside
Veronica, he appears as the
underdog, the nerd, trying to
get his hands on the cool, chic
girl who always rejected him
in high school. And David is
simultaneously both of these
people, but with a twisted and
self-righteous
agency
that
eventually leads him to a simi-
lar position as Brock Turner —
a man hiding behind a barrier
of well-paid attorneys.
Remember, this is all told
from David’s perspective. The
unnatural nature of his crush,
though unsettling at times and
increasingly so, never reveals
to us the nature of the boy in
whose head we rest and rely. It
is an extreme case of the unreli-
able nature that leaves the flesh
crawling and stomach turned,
because it is a narrator in whom
we lend our ears, eyes and mind
to, only to be betrayed.
Harvard has faced a great
deal of criticism in recent
years. Alumni fear the asso-
ciation and rivals look at it not
with disdain, but pity because
of the aforementioned criti-
cism. As scandal after scandal
has emerged the school has
been able to do little to redeem
itself, and Wayne, a Harvard
grad himself, only draws this
scandal into a more critical
light. By placing readers inside
the protagonist’s mind, readers
have a first-account insight into
the mind of a loner — a loner
impaled on the stake of white
privilege and entitlement that
has brought unwanted criti-
cism to the country’s oldest and
most esteemed institution. An
institution, just like Stanford,
awash in scandal that will come
to taint the university’s legacy,
both past and present.
NATALIE ZAK
Managing Arts Editor
Teddy Wayne’s eerily relevant novel touches on questions
and concerns of modern campus life at elite institutions
Harvard has faced
a great deal of
criticism in recent
years
BOOK REVIEW
His presumed air
of intelligence is
what defines him
WE BELIEVE THERE IS BUT ONE GOD,
AND HIS NAME IS YEEZUS.
Congregation meets at 3:30 P.M. every Sunday. If you have any questions regarding
our parish, please email anay@umich.edu
Fashion’s facade showcases an industry grounded in purpose
6 — Friday, January 13, 2017
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com