The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
b-side
Thursday, April 5, 2018 — 5B
In a culture centered around
appearance,
the
fashion
and
modeling industry holds a huge
weight in today’s society. Amid
unrealistic
body
expectations,
name
brands
and
distorted
representations, it is easy to get
wrapped up in the downfalls
of this materialistic business.
With
such
an
emphasis
on
aesthetics and looks, a great
amount of room for error and
false representation comes into
play in the world of fashion and
modeling. I love fashion as much
as the next person, but among
the love and lust, a fair amount of
mistakes, misinterpretations and
just straight-up misconducts go
unnoticed.
In 2015, Interview Magazine
released their winter cover, which
pictured none other than Kylie
Jenner posing in a wheelchair.
Jenner and Interview’s motive
for the shoot caused an explosion
of comments within and beyond
the
disability
community.
One woman’s response to the
photoshoot managed to spark an
entire conversation surrounding
Jenner’s controversy. Author and
disability activist Erin Tatum went
viral when she reenacted Jenner’s
cover in her wheelchair.
“If being in a wheelchair is
trendy now, I’ve apparently been a
trendsetter since before Kylie was
born,” Tatum wrote in a Tumblr
post.
Defining ableism in its rawest
form,
Jenner’s
fetishization
and wrongful depiction of the
disability
community
opens
up a conversation that is still
extremely relevant in the fashion
and modeling industry today. The
disability community is simply
not represented in modeling, or
properly designed for by leaders
of the fashion industry. White,
cisgender and able-bodied females
like Jenner stand at the center of
this industry that many of us care
so much about. Jenner portrayed
disability as something artsy and
provocative
when
represented
by her identity, but when actual
members
of
the
disability
community fill this role, they are
looked down on as incapable, sick
and sad, as Tatum mentioned in
her Tumblr post.
Ever present now as it was in
2015, the need for this multifaceted
community to be integrated into
the fashion and modeling world is
all the more necessary. We need
accurate representations of the
disability community in modeling,
and
we
need
adequate
and
fashionable and practical clothing
options for this community as well.
Lucky for those searching for a
silver lining in the sometimes dark
industry, followers of the fashion
industry are able to find hope
and inspiration in Aaron Philip.
Gaining guidance from fashion
trailblazers
with
disabilities
such as Jillian Mercado and Nyle
DiMarco, Philip, a transgender
model whose pronouns include
she/her/hers
and
they/them/
theirs, have started a revolution in
the fashion industry. As a model,
they represent and advocate for
themself and the entire disability
community through their work.
DiMarco, a deaf actor, model
and activist, was the first deaf
person to win “America’s Next
Top Model” and “Dancing with
the Stars.” Founder of the Nyle
DiMarco Foundation, DiMarco
serves as a role model to deaf
models and children, speaking to
language equality and advocacy
for literature. Philip’s leading
inspiration,
Jillian
Mercado,
who was diagnosed with spastic
muscular dystrophy as a teen, has
landed modeling contracts with
IMG Models and Diesel Jeans,
agencies that include a lineup
of famous supermodels such as
Kate Moss and Heidi Klum. In
addition,
Mercado
starred
in
Beyonce’s “Formation” video and
a marketing campaign for Target.
Aligning themselves with these
individuals
with
disabilities,
Philip accredits their pursuance
of modeling to Mercado especially.
“I credit Jillian Mercado as
a trailblazer for people with
disabilities in fashion,” Philip
wrote in an email interview with
The Daily. “I credit all the hard
working Black models for their
beauty & visibility in fashion right
now. I credit all the upcoming
trans models for their advocacy
and visibility as well. I’m a part of
all of this, and I just want to work
hard to break boundaries.”
Acknowledging the need for
progress in this industry, Philip
is spearheading a movement one
simply must rally behind.
“The modeling industry has
so many issues with not even
bothering to take risks and portray
disabled bodies of all types in any
way,” Philip wrote. “Sometimes
they may see an aesthetic within
disability in terms of the mobility
aids we use and glamorize that,
but they still proceed to prioritize
big names & able-bodied people.
They appropriate disability instead
of getting actual models with
disabilities involved.”
As a Black, transgender and
disabled model, Philip has built
a platform for themself via social
media and blogging, working into
the modeling world and setting
straight the false aesthetics the
modeling and fashion industry can
so often rest heavily upon.
“I have issues with the way
fashion
tends
to
ignorantly
objectify certain things from
certain types of people and
amplify it. For example, cultural
appropriation
is
a
problem,
ableism in the sense that disabled
bodies are negatively objectified
by the disability and not the talent,
general racism & trans people
feel uncomfortable in fashion as a
space,” Philip wrote.
Philip’s role in the modeling and
fashion world is the much-needed
push for a long overdue change to
what can be a challenging cycle.
Philip’s multifaceted identity is
real, something people can relate
to and certainly something that
has challenged the idea of models
as commodified products.
“I think designers could start
with acknowledging physically
disabled folk as a part of their
narrative and as potential clients,
and with that comes having to
work with physically disabled
models of all conditions and body
types as well,” Philip wrote.
So to the modeling world:
Please, no more Kylie Jenners
posing in bedazzled wheelchairs.
What we need is a continuation
of the monumental movement
Philip, DiMarco and Mercado
have started and will continue
to sculpt for future generations
of the disability community. The
ever-changing industry needs an
aesthetic that is real, accessible,
narrated and designed by those
who live the reality of disability.
Only then will the fashion and
modeling industry be something
we will be proud to associate with
and acknowledge.
For the past 50 years in music,
it has often been cool to be sad.
The countercultural phenomena
that have guided teenagers and
young adults for decades —
movements like grunge, goth,
new wave, alternative and punk
— tap into the darker side of
life, opening the door to themes
like
depression,
nihilism,
dissatisfaction
and
rebellion
for millions — if not billions
— of those who identify with
them. The hipsters of every era
tend to be typecast as angsty,
if not completely bummed-
out — it’s a modern tradition
for each period of bubblegum-
sweet popular music to be
matched with an opposing force
of artistic power, one that is
historically more alternative
and well, sad. This plays into
stereotypes, yes, but it also
offers a mode of expression
for
people
struggling
with
legitimate issues beyond the
façade, namely mental illness
and the disabling, very real
sadness it can produce.
Now, without the need for a
record company to distribute
music,
this
tradition
of
counterculture has shattered
into thousands of subgenres
within subgenres, an endless
line of evolutions from the
legends of the past. Nothing
has changed the rap scene in
this way so much like the full
embrace of Soundcloud as a
method of distribution and
expression — so much so that
the “Soundcloud rapper” has
become a social type. Though
this movement often boasts
an image of party-savvy and
drugged-up youth, it has also
offered a niche for rappers to
tackle previously untouched
or hidden topics, one of these
subjects being mental illness
and the nihilism that sometimes
comes
with
it.
This
has
spawned rap’s new guard, an
assemblage of teens and early
20-somethings
with
names
like Lil Pump, Lil Xan, Lil Uzi
Vert and Lil Peep, boasting the
collective title of “emo rap.”
Why are they all “Lil”? We’ll
never know. But it is clear from
their music that these artists
are not afraid to attack the
darker side of life, most notably
the realities of depression and
the drug addiction that can
accompany
it.
Their
songs
have lyrics like, “I don’t really
care if I die / Push me to the
edge / All my friends are
dead,” (“XO TOUR Llif3,” Lil
Uzi Vert) and “My life is goin’
nowhere / I want everyone
to know that I don’t care,”
(“OMFG,” Lil Peep). This music
is a subversive tangent from the
classically
hyper-masculine
stereotypes of rap, attacking
the taboos of mental illness and
its consequences with a brash
sense of self-assuredness. It
has a characteristically slow,
reserved
tempo
and
heavy
low end, creating a weight in
each song that only enhances
their typically melancholy or
mundane lyrics.
“Emo rap,” or “sad rap,”
as some have called it, still
maintains the “party hard, get
bitches” mentality of the rap
music of late, a parallel with the
similarly popular trap music of
artists like Migos. But it goes
beyond the party, often using
the motifs of drugs like Xanax
and lean to enhance a blissed-
out image. Though it may seem
like their music encourages
drug use, it is slowly moving
towards the opposite. Artists
like Lil Xan often make a point
to deter their fans from diving
into drug use further than
just the image it presents. Xan
himself is known to yell things
like “Fuck Xanax 2018!” at his
concerts, and his songs contain
lyrics like “Xans don’t make
you / Xans gon’ take you,” to
emphasize this sentiment even
more.
The emo rap scene originated
with a sense of self-destruction,
but
has
recently
shifted
towards an image that still
maintains the teen angst and
recklessness of its past with
a new warning of its dangers.
Though it still perpetuates an
image that glorifies sadness and
heavy drug use, emo rap has
the potential for change in this
area. The people who listen to
emo rap are typically in it for
the aesthetic, but can get drawn
into the lifestyle via the image
and fall prey to its realities.
This image is likely not going
to change anytime soon, as it
is sometimes more popular
than the actual music, but the
content has a chance to make up
for that. Instead of completely
embracing
the
sadness
of
depression
and
addiction,
Lil Xan and many of his
contemporaries have integrated
a wary message into their music
— one that celebrates partying,
but points out the disabling
sadness and looming addiction
that the party lifestyle often
creates in its participants with
a rough but honest voice.
This presents itself most
intensely in light of the recent
Nov. death of Lil Peep, one of
the genre’s rising stars. Peep
was only 21 at the time of his
untimely death
— a suspected
drug overdose on his tour bus in
Temple, Ariz. He was perhaps
the most outspoken member
of the emo rap scene about
his struggles with depression,
taking
a
no-holds-barred
approach to his musical content
in terms of transparency. Peep
was open about the realities
of life as someone who battled
many demons, a drug user and a
member of the genre which has,
in the past, glorified drug use to
a dangerous extent.
In one of his last interviews
with Montreal media outlet
MONTREALITY, Peep touched
on this candidly, saying “You
can’t
predict
where
you’re
going to be next year. You have
no idea. I’ve been in very, very,
very low points like shitty
situations, horrible situation,”
continued
Peep.
“My
mom
always tells me time will heal
everything … It will eventually
get better.”
His colleagues, artists like
Lil Xan, have taken his death
as an opportunity to comment
on the image they portray of
an alluring world that indulges
in drugs and sadness. There
is still a ways to go in order to
get rid of the negative aspects
of the emo rap image, but many
of the genre’s intentions show a
unique side of rap that has been
left unexplored in the past.
The realities of mental illness
and disabling addiction are a
consistent presence in emo rap,
and that has opened a door for
further development of the
genre.
Though much of its music
now highlights partying, emo
rap holds an intriguing promise
for the future, one which offers
a complex mix of awareness
and the classic themes of
recklessness
that
listeners
know well. It continues to be a
fascinating case study in what
happens when self-destruction
reaches a tipping point. The
response to Lil Peep’s death
has proven that many of the
genre’s artists are committed
to shifting their message to
one that warns of the dangers
hidden in partying and the
glorification of mental illness. It
is possible that the Soundcloud
rappers have something more
to say here, and their music
has the potential to spread that
message to those who really
need it.
The sad guard of emo rap
CLARA SCOTT
Daily Arts Writer
First Access/Warner Bros. Sweden
MUSIC
Aaron Philip & necessity
to represent disability in
the new world of fashion
STYLE
MARGARET SHERIDAN
Daily Arts Writer
Courtesy of Ella Wiznia
Courtesy of Ella Wiznia
Though this
movement often
boasts an image
of party-savvy
and drugged-up
youth, it has also
offered a niche
for rappers to
tackle previously
untouched or
hidden topics, one
of these subjects
being mental
illness and the
nihilism that
sometimes comes
with it
Peep was open
about the realities
of life as someone
who battled
many demons, a
drug user and a
member of the
genre which
has, in the past,
glorified drug use
to a dangerous
extent
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April 05, 2018 (vol. 127, iss. 105) - Image 11
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- The Michigan Daily
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