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