The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Wednesday, October 9, 2019 — 5A

Chanel stunned with classic silhouettes, Cecilie Bahnsen was nothing 
short of a textural dream and Valentino has us prepping our summer whites, 
and it’s only the Oct. 9. From Paris, Milan, Copenhagen to New York, Fashion 
Month was a whirlwind. To say that Daily Style is brimming with inspiration 
on the cusp of these shows would be an understatement. 
In the style of a brilliantly styled Man Repeller piece, Daily Style has 
decided to try our hand at recreating some of the runway’s most sought 
after moments. Easier said than done of course, considering especially the 
closets of college students and that we spend at least five days a week in and 
out of classrooms; not the most ideal runway. But, these limitations forced 
us to get creative, to extrapolate from the looks of fashion month, to build 
a new approach to getting dressed, to include more than just an elite group 
in a couture conversation. This exploration was a chance to rethink how we 
approach our closets, to mix and match, no matter how comical or far off the 
results may be. If nothing else, these recreations were an excuse to play dress 
up, and who would say no to that? 
— Margaret Sheridan, Style Beat Editor 
I can’t stress how difficult it was to choose a favorite look from Collina 
Strada’s sustainably-minded Spring Summer 2020 collection, entitled 
“Thank You Very Much for Helping Me,” but I settled on this one for the 
sense of urgency it conveys. The beige top, emblazoned with a childlike 
drawing of a globe and the show’s titular phrase, is an eerie reminder of 
what little time we have to combat climate change. A mesh bag replete 
with produce is slung over the model’s left shoulder, giving the impression 
that she’s hurrying home from the farmer’s market to toss locally-sourced 
potatoes into her energy-saving fridge (yes, she lives in Bushwick). Tied 
together with a billowing patterned skirt, thin beaded belt and chunky 
sandals, the look represents everything I want the fashion industry to 
become as it starts taking responsibility for its environmental impact.
My recreation of this outfit is far from precise, but I tried to stay true to 
its central themes. Layered above my years-old turtleneck (and untucked 
for accuracy) is a graphic tee I screen-printed for September’s Global 
Climate Strike — I feel like it exudes a similar energy to the original 
look’s. My skirt is reminiscent of the slip style from the show only in that 
it contains the color orange, but I’m fine with that. A thin chain-link belt 
functions as my take on the beaded version, and my favorite pair of pink 

platform Tevas felt right in the footwear department. But the aspect of 
my faux-Collina Strada look I’m most proud of is, by far, the bag of kale I 
brought out of my fridge for the occasion. 
— Tess Garcia, Daily Style Writer
As I started pairing outfits together for this piece, I quickly found myself 
surrounded by the entirety of my closet on the floor, overwhelmed at the 
potential for new outfit anatomies. Not to say that any of the pieces I have 
selected exactly make sense together, in fact, this outfit walks a fine line 
between multiple seasons. At its core, however, this outfit is extrapolated 
from the key moments and pieces I saw on the runway. 
When considering my design icons, I looked no further than the Dries 
Van Noten Spring 2020 Ready-to-Wear collection, a landscape of florals, 
polka dots and damn good jackets. While my recreation of this look 
is far from accurate, I tried to center my iteration around the color and 
textural relationships at play between base layers and a power jacket 
on top. Drawn to the lavender billowing pants, I reached for a pair of 
thrifted lilac bermudas that tie at the waist. A Zara blouse — that I am 
shamelessly wearing backwards — attempts to embody the airy, high 
neckline slip seen on the model. As for a layer over these pieces, I went 
back and forth between my signature orange puffer and a blue faux fur 
number, ultimately deciding on the latter, given the way the texture of 

the jacket anchors the original look in the Van Noten show. Although the 
dusty blue coupled with the lilac is not nearly as dreamy as the lilac and 
neon orange moment that happened on the runway, the faux fur seemed 
like too much of a focal point to disregard. To top it off, I again reflected 
color in footwear, selecting a pair of subtly wedged minty green mules, 
their finish and hue coming close to the characteristics of those on the 
model. So, while my recreation makes it unclear as to whether I’m headed 
to bed, the beach or to brave a tundra, I certainly felt empowered while 
grappling through the curation of my outfit. That holds more weight to me 
than any designer coat. 
— Margaret Sheridan, Style Beat Editor 
Jean cut-offs (sometimes known as “jorts”) and a blazer have never stood 
out to me as two things that naturally fit together. The first I associate with 
hot temperatures in my native Los Angeles backyard and then the other I 
group with what I wear to an interview where my future is on the line: 
two very different states of mind. However, Givenchy proved me wrong 
this year, topping off their wide use of jorts with formalwear. According 
to W Magazine, Givenchy’s Artistic Director, Claire Waight Keller, was 
inspired by ’90s fashion after reading a book by Allison Yarrow titled, 
“90s Bitch: Media, Culture, and the Failed Promise of Gender Equality.” 
Therefore, Keller made ’90s fashion her goal but put a spin on it that she 
called “liberated femininity” in which she altered popular looks from 
these decades to appear more free, strong and a little bit grunge. With my 
own personal style being very casual and sticking to a single theme, this 
look was a little more difficult for me to get down. I decided to settle for a 

more casual tee as opposed to a professional button down shirt because 
besides being safer, it also channels what I see “liberated femininity” to 
be. I finished it off with high heeled black boots thinking it would exude 
the toughness that Keller was looking for. In my mind, my outfit illustrates 
that I don’t lose sense of who I am or my power in the workplace when 
surrounded by toxic masculinity. I am a professional and do my work, but 
I am not eager to please when it comes to sacrificing my morals. 
— Sophia Hughes, Daily Style Writer
According to Fashionista, Marc Jacobs included a review of his Spring/
Summer 2002 show at his namesake label in this season’s shownotes. The 
show took place on the day before Sept. 11, 2001, and spoke of how the joy 
expressed in that collection eerily encapsulated an era before the panic, 
before the earth-shifting events that were to take place the very next 
morning. Closing out NYFW SS20 on Sept. 11, 2020, the inclusion could 
not be more appropriate. This collection, in his words, is “a celebration of 
life, joy, equality, individuality, optimism, happiness, indulgence, dreams 
and a future unwritten.” This review has only grown in accuracy over 
time, as the United States quickly evolved into a surveillance state led by 
fear and hatred after those tragic events. This collection was about taking 
a pause and celebrating life during a time that runs several parallels to 
the time that review was published. In a sociopolitical sphere that feels as 
though every day has to be a fight and turning on a news channel or simply 
tapping the twitter app on our phones can trigger an anxiety attack, 
allowing ourselves the space to feel the pulse that makes life worth living 
is absolutely vital. On days when I feel anxious and want to hide, I spend a 
little extra time on my appearance as a way to give myself that extra push 
to get through it all. This ridiculous sequin pantsuit and red mockneck 
combo brings me joy, I hope it does the same for you!
— Sam Kremke, Daily Style Writer

Recreating four of our favorite Fashion Month looks

STYLE NOTEBOOK

I was catching up with a friend that I hadn’t seen 
in a while last week and we started talking about 
making music. Now, I’m a proponent for scenes to be 
supportive places for new artists to share their art, so 
when they expressed a desire to play at least one show 
by the time they graduated, I strongly encouraged 
them to. “But my songs aren’t very good … I’ve barely 
written anything,” they protested. They seemed 
to have this underlying fear that they shouldn’t be 
allowed to perform because they didn’t know how a 
sound system worked, or had only written a few songs 
here and there and had never really performed them 
in public before.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a DIY show, but I 
can assure you, they are, and I cannot emphasize this 
enough, not full of virtuosos that are about to bring 
about the next Golden Age of Music. And that’s OK 
— they in no way need to be. This environment was 
created in order to give artists a platform that they 
normally wouldn’t have if they didn’t have a wealth 
of experience and connections. Sometimes, artists 
forget their chords, melodies or even lyrics when 
they’re on stage, and that’s part of the beauty of it. 
With DIY, perfection is in the imperfection. These 
shows are humble, intimate and full of opportunities 
to explore new artistic directions.
I think that over time, these spaces, which stem 
from underrepresented people creating a space to 
call their own, started to shift into a more commercial 
environment that demands a certain almost polished 
sound at times. I’ve been at many shows where an 

artist bravely stands in front of a crowd for the first 
time as their voice shakes because of how nervous 
they are, and while most of the crowd offers constant 
cheers and support, others sit towards the back and 
snicker. Not only does this reject the origins of DIY, 
but it discourages others from sharing their works — 
its intended purpose in the first place.
You might say that it’s easy to just “forget the 
haters,” but as someone that has experienced the 
anxiety of sharing personal projects with an audience 
and still refrains from doing it too often, I know that 
that’s much easier said than done. Artists put not only 
a lot of time, but a lot of emotion into their work, and 
the thought of exposing themselves only to be laughed 
at and metaphorically pushed to the side is terrifying.
Now, I don’t think that’s to say that criticism should 
be swapped with fluffy words of praise that lack 
substance. I think constructive criticism is absolutely 
essential for artists to grow and improve their art. 
If you know an artist well enough, giving them 
suggestions is a great way to promote their growth. 
But tweeting about, say, how bad the vocalist for 
PBR and the Rolling Rocks is, does nothing but emit 
negativity into the world.
In case it wasn’t apparent, I think DIY is really 
special. The fact that people care enough about music 
and art that they could convert their basements into 
venues for lesser-known, possibly unconventional 
bands and artists to have opportunities they normally 
wouldn’t is exemplary of the passion that fuels the 
scene. It’s not about putting on shows with groups 
that have been around for years and years. DIY is 
about allowing new artists to come into their own, 
experiment, and share their experiences with an 
audience.

Cox’s Corner: DIY is an
expressive environment

RYAN COX
Daily DIY Columnist

DIY COLUMN

“10 Minutes and 38 Seconds in this Strange 
World” begins with the end. Leila Afi — who had 
substituted the ‘y’ in her name to the atypical 
‘i’ to change ‘yesterday’ for ‘infinity’ — is dead, 
strewn against a dumpster in an alleyway. Yes, 
physically her heart stops beating, but her brain 
hasn’t shut down yet — and it won’t be, not for 
another 10 minutes and 38 seconds. In those 10 
minutes, the readers are taken on a journey into 
her heart-wrenching past — a past littered with 
picturesque memories from munching on sugary-
sweet wax with Leila’s aunt and mother to much 
more tragic moments that led to her eventually 
life as an Istanbul sex worker. 
Shafak goes all in with this set-up. We don’t 
just start at Leila’s birth, but at the moment of her 
conception. When Leilia’s mother was pregnant 
with her, she paid considerable care and made 
sure to take the necessary precautions. 
“She had not touched a single peach so the 
baby wouldn’t be covered in fuzz; she had not 
used any spices or herbs in her cooking so the 
baby wouldn’t have freckles or moles; she had not 
smelled roses so the baby wouldn’t have port-wine 
birthmarks. Not even once had she cut her hair 
lest their luck also be cut short. She had refrained 
from hammering nails into the wall in case she 
mistakenly hit a sleeping ghoul on the head. After 
dark, knowing too well that the djinn held their 
weddings around toilets, she had stayed in her 
room, making do with a chamber pot.”
It’s difficult not to fall in love with Shafak’s 
prose. Shafak recognizes the significance of 
minute details. Sights, smells and tastes come 
unbidden. I felt like I was surrounded within 
the Turkish atmosphere and culture during the 
mid-20th century. Shafak treks the life of Leila, 

using each minute to represent a milestone. She 
doesn’t stray from this methodology for the 
majority of the novel. In fact, she chronologizes 
historic landmarks alongside Leila’s growth. We 
learn of John F. Kennedy’s assassination and 
of Trotsky’s influence in Turkey. For the most 
part, this style works. One knows what to expect: 
Minute two is Leila’s adolescence and minute 
three is her hormonal teenage years. Spliced 
within this consistent technique are snippets of 
Leila’s friend’s perspective — the “five” as Leila 
so carefully dubs. The change in perspectives 
takes away from the flow of the narrative. At 
first, I faithfully read through each character, 
but then found myself skimming as I progressed 
deeper into the book. Some of Leila’s friends 
only appeared for a brief segment of the book — 
I couldn’t reconcile their significance to the plot 
with their random chapters. 
More than the style, it’s easy to be tired by 
Shafak’s cyclical narrative. Don’t get me wrong, 
I felt my eyes sting more often than not while 
reading “10 Minutes and 38 Seconds,” but soon, 
the plot became predictable. I really wanted to 
like this book, but I couldn’t muster the same 
level of empathy I had at the beginning. What 
once seemed like an apt way to shed a humanistic 
lens on the life of a sex worker in Turkey ends 
up holding a darker implication of romanticism. 
Shafak shies away from delving into the vulgar 
and vile aspects that come with the high-risk 
lifestyle. Continually, we circle around Leila’s 
way of life. We read about the musky smell of sex 
in the room, but not the sexual acts themselves. 
Instead, much of the plot is spent detailing the 
beauty encompassing Lelia’s brothel. While 
there are merits in highlighting the beauty in 
horror, “10 Minutes and 38 Seconds” is generally 
disappointing. With its topic, the novel could’ve 
done more to bring awareness to the exploitation 
of women in Turkey back then and now.

‘10 Minutes’ is short of great

SARAH SALMAN
Daily Arts Writer

BOOK REVIEW

10 Minutes and 38 Seconds in this 
Strange World

Elif Shafak

Viking

May 17, 2019

COURTESY OF SAM KREMKE

The fact that people care enough about 
music and art that they could convert their 
basements into venues for lesser-known, 
possibly unconventional bands and artists to 
have opportunities they normally wouldn’t 
is exemplary of the passion that fuels the 
scene.

MARGARET SHERIDAN
Daily Style Editor

TESS GARCIA
Daily Arts Writer

SOPHIA HUGHES
Daily Arts Writer

SAM KREMKE
Daily Arts Writer

VOGUE RUNWAY
COURTESY OF TESS GARCIA
NOWFASHION

COURTESY OF MARGARET SHERIDAN
VOGUE

COURTESY OF SOPHIA HUGHES
THE CUT

