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

