I’ve been thinking a lot about uniforms lately.
The first images that come to mind hail from eye
roll-inducing, cliché depictions of elite schooling:
Plaid skirts, navy blazers and khaki pants. A young
Matt Damon getting branded as an anti-semitic
prick as he gets dejected from his cushy pre-
Harvard purgatory, or Jenny Humphrey using her
brother’s L.L. Bean pants as a punchline — the list
goes on. Outside-looking-in type glimpses into the
supposedly Shakespearean highs and lows of the
very rich and disproportionately white. The most
culturally significant edition of that canon — the
one that feels like its been beaten into our heads
with a Vuitton monogrammed baseball bat, is
getting a reboot that will likely do well regardless
of its content. Despite a social climate that seems a
little bit less eager to simultaneously admonish and
celebrate a system that bottlenecks the distribution
of wealth and power, I can already envision articles
about the new Serena and her $10,000 endangered
crocodile skin boots. I’ve practically written, read
and commented on that article in my head. That is
why the show will succeed in its role as one part
soap opera, one part live-action fashion editorial
drowning in product placement.
Before “Gossip Girl” transcended its own DNA,
which was very much rooted in high school politics
gone the way of Macbeth, the school uniform
played a major role in the show. Often taken as a
light suggestion as opposed to a unifying standard
of dress, its employment in the visual makeup of
each character was always more of a foundational
class signifier. It merely symbolized the monetary
weight of the storyline, the amount of status,
power, fame and money that was at stake with
each condescending quip or stock-plundering
blast. The emphasis was on what was worn on top
of it, around it, under it and what alterations were
made to it.
Blair, the conservative and conniving power
that B, would fashion herself into the Queen of
England during periods of vulnerability — clinging
to veneers of her projected status as everything
that lined it was tossed into a meat grinder.
Serena, the best friend and foil to Blair, always
seemed to find a low-cut tee shirt/vest combo,
loosened tie, smattering of dangly gold necklaces
and an ever-receding hemline to suffice. The
impossibly beautiful and doesn’t know it (wow!),
bad-girl-gone-good-but-sometimes-still-bad and
sunshine barbie chaotic venus archetypes she
simultaneously embodied were balanced by her
beachy, sea-salt waves and the Chanel scarf that
seemed to just fall from the sky and wrap itself
around them.
You wanted to be Serena. She was genuinely kind
and happy and unbothered by the wild amount
of pressure she endured throughout her tenure
as “Gossip Girl”’s mythological golden goddess
muse. In doing so, you became Blair, who spent her
days toiling over the things that materialized out
of thin air for Serena, that Serena never bothered
to ask for and turned into a “95 pound, doe-eyed,
bonmot-tossing, label-whoring package of girly
evil” in the process. Mega-sexist, only one queen
can reign overtones aside, the ups and downs of
their character arcs were underwritten by what
they wore. They had a personal uniform, a range of
tastes and proclivities that spoke to who they were
as people; and a school uniform, the access card
to a general mist of unattainability that followed
them around as they erected entire utopias before
burning them down within the span of a single
episode.
There are a lot of ways to go about dressing
oneself. Many of their determining factors have
to do with what’s appropriate or what will provide
the most safety in a certain context. What’s going
to get me through the day? Do I want to be seen?
Do I want to project authority? Do I want to hide?
What’s the amount of discomfort I’m willing to
deal with in order to look good? Do I need to pass
as something? All run like lightning bolts through
the mind as we thumb through our cotton/poly in
the morning. It doesn’t pay to give a lot of thought
to it in the moment — the best outfit decisions are
usually the quickest ones, too.
Discussions about personal style, held long
after those first calls are made and often drawn
up in opposition to someone else’s (whether they
be complementary or not), are when the self is
defined. Somewhere in the interplay between
private and public identity is where our current
and ideal selves float around in the abstract. How
we view ourselves and the securities we cling
to, what we abide by. We all want to feel like our
decisions are our own and not just a product of who
we talk to and what we look at.
Directors don’t make every decision and
designers don’t oversee every thread that gets
stitched. Production teams are like organisms, and
the final product is one that had to pass through
a lot of hands to get there. We might not be able
to exert what feels like even a morsel of control
over what trickles up to our processing centers
and how we make the decisions that we do. We
might not always be able to decide what channel
of information flows through us, who we surround
ourselves with or who we compare ourselves to.
Thinking about what we look at, how we look at
ourselves, and what might be influencing those two
things is a surefire way of changing that course,
though. Whether it be with a pair of Feiyues, a
tried and true denim jacket or a pair of scandalous
croc-skin boots — when you dress yourself, who is
it that you’re trying to be?
Velveteen dreams: On
the uniform of identity
SAM KREMKE
Daily Style Columnist
STYLE COLUMN
“We are all atomic particles, mixing together, in one big
omelet,” says Engineering Junior Surar Al-Gayani about
the process of collaborating artistically with his band
members in Atomic Omelet.
Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti-based band Atomic Omelet
has one of the best names in the Washtenaw County music
scene. While the image of an atomic breakfast first caught
my attention, this band has proved to be much more
than a product of creative marketing strategies. With an
eclectic mix of ska, punk and funk in their repertoire and
an incomparable stage presence, Atomic Omelet is a band
you’ll want to see live at least once in your lifetime.
Thankfully, this coming Saturday you will have the
chance. Atomic Omelet will be performing alongside music
acts “Isaich,” “Any Island” and “Industrial Sunglasses,”
among others, at the Art of Armageddon Beach Party in
Detroit, Michigan.
I recently had the opportunity to sit down with the band
and talk about their upcoming show. It was a particularly
sunny Sunday morning, and each of the band’s members
were joyfully laughing with one another over donuts
that had been purchased from the bakery just an hour
before. I had expected a more rambunctious crew of
people, perhaps because their E.P. “Live at the Blind Pig”
is filled with such electrically upbeat party rock. The band
members’ calm personalities did not reflect the sound of
their songs.
“I’ve learned that it’s cool to have meaning. But I’m not
a good enough poet to have a good enough meaning to all
of our songs,” says Atomic Omelet’s lyricist, guitar and vox
player Sean Bass. At the Armageddon Beach Party this
Saturday, audiences can expect a wide range of songs from
Atomic Omelet. Some with meaning, others simply easy to
dance to.
“If you’re a dancing person, we have friendly but
rowdy mosh pits at our concerts,” says Atomic Omelet’s
drummer Stephen Valley, a 3rd-year graduate student in
the College of Pharmacy. “There’s a good chance people
will be jumping around on Saturday night, so if you come,
be ready to have a good time.”
The venue, Armageddon Beachparty, is an Art
Duo & Creative Umbrella conceptualized by Motu &
Komza, a married, Detroit-native artist pair who work
collaboratively by merging their strong collection of artistic
abilities. The duo have created over four hundred works of
art together. The venue is surrounded in psychedelic art.
The pieces at the venue remind me of ones you would find
in the popular art collective “Meow Wolf.” “Meow Wolf”
is an immersive art installation in New Mexico that was
founded by a collective of artists. It is known for its unique
and interesting interactive art.
In addition to being excited about the venue, the band
members couldn’t stop raving about the other musicians
that will be playing alongside them.
“We’re playing the show with a bunch of our best
friends. I’m excited because Connor booked a rapper,
“Isaich.” We don’t get to play with a lot of rappers. It’s
going to be a really fun show,” Valley said.
Atomic Omelet is known for their vibrant stage
presence during their sets. “You always have to hold the
fifth member of the band in mind, which is the audience.
They feel what we are feeling,” Al-Gayani added. Saturday
evening’s set will be a collection of both original songs
and covers. When discussing performing with the band
members, their faces lit up.
“If Armageddon was going down, why not have a beach
party? Especially in the times we live in now,” Atomic
Omelet’s guitarist, Surar Al-Gayani said.
Atomic Omelet will be hitting the stage at 9 p.m.
Saturday night, so start your evening off right by arriving
to the venue early. If you want to spend a few hours
immersed in equally exhilarating art and music be sure to
make your way over to Detroit on Saturday night.
Armageddon Beach Party
with a very Atomic Omelet
ALIX CURNOW
Daily Arts Writer
Often taken as a
light suggestion as
opposed to unifying
standard of dress,
(the uniform’s)
employment in the
visual makeup of
each character was
always more of a
foundational class
signifier.
KATIE ROMERO
Sat., Sept. 28
9 p.m. to 12 a.m.
18+, $5 cover
1517 Putnam Street, Detroit, MI
Lauv gets down to the authentic emotions in
his new single “feelings.” The fifth release off his
upcoming album, ~how i’m feeling~ , “feelings”
is an open letter from Lauv asking a girl if she
would like to take their relationship to the next
level.
The song is intimate and deep, possessing a
youthful infatuation experienced by many young
people today. While the lyrics are vulnerable,
Lauv sings with a confidence that suggests he’s
sure of himself and the status of his relationship
with his “friend.” The mellow, easy-goingness of
the tune also contributes to the notion of young
love and the risks taken to feel something real
and intimate.
Although the song deals with deeper
emotions, Lauv presents the tune with genuine
optimism. In his music video, he’s blowing
bubbles and dancing amidst clouds, hearts and
2000s themed polaroids. This kind of joyful
enthusiasm is also hinted at in the song with its
uplifting clapping and hopeful lyrics. Lauv sings
“Know we’ve been friends / And love only knows
broken ends,” exemplifying a kind of trust found
in love and close relationships.
This new song is another artifact in Lauv’s
incomplete scrapbook of emotions. While we’ve
already seen themes of loneliness, addiction and
sadness, “feelings” stands out with its emphasis
on optimism and holds onto a hope for authentic
happiness. The divergence from Lauv’s previous
releases will leave listeners in anticipation for
some more of these positive feelings.
Lauv gets sentimental
KAITLYN FOX
Daily Arts Writer
SINGLE REVIEW
feelings
Lauv
AWOL
The music video for Tyler, the Creator’s “A BOY
IS A GUN” follows the Igor alter ego yet again
as he wanders aimlessly, angry and exasperated
around a lavish mansion. With a platinum bowl
cut, black shades and pastel suits, “A BOY” ventures
into vulnerable territory, literally and figuratively.
Whereas “EARFQUAKE” prods more at self-defeat
and embodies a satirical slant with its music video,
“A BOY IS A GUN” is livid and uncertain, a cauldron
of unresolved emotional turmoil. The narrative
of the music video is framed in ultra-saturated,
grainy pastel blues and greens like a distressing Wes
Anderson film.
True to the title, a rifle consumes the width of the
intro frame as Tyler, the Creator cocks it back to fire
into an aquamarine sky. He then slumps forlornly
on a stunning white staircase only to storm onto a
golf field and fall on his face. From here we follow a
series of vignettes that details an ongoing argument
between Tyler and his lover. This can easily be split
into parts — in the first, the artist is frustrated,
pleading with his boyfriend to “take your hoodie
off, why you hide your face from me?” The second
ruptures any emotional containment, oscillating
between Tyler begging his lover to “stay right here”
and snarling “stay the fuck away from me.” An array
of narratives and descriptions paints these verses,
channeling themselves directly into the video.
Every scene and scenario, from the lovebirds
arguing in the bathroom to Tyler, the Creator’s lover
bringing his ex-girlfriend to breakfast, is tinged
with unease. Tyler argues, pleads and breaks down
but no one acknowledges his anguish and pain. The
characters drive, pack their bags and serve dinner,
but do so passively, with no expressions crossing
their face. They are yielding side characters to a
protagonist who festers in heartache and distrust, a
visual hyperbole to Tyler’s suspicion that his words
fall on dead ears.
“A BOY IS A GUN” is yet another landmark to
Tyler, the Creator’s ever-maturing persona since
Flower Boy. It toys with his standard music video
hallmarks, but does so poignantly and meticulously,
the spirit of the song embodying every frame. Tyler
deftly transfigures Igor’s wounded spirit into a
breathtaking, visual masterpiece as it traverses
effortlessly through his toxic, engrossing love story.
‘A BOY’ tells lavish story
DIANA YASSIN
Daily Arts Writer
MUSIC VIDEO REVIEW
HAPPY PLACE
COMMUNITY CULTURE PREVIEW
LAUV
A BOY IS A GUN
Tyler, the Creator
Columbia
THE CW
5 — Thursday, September 26, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com