From the days of the broad-shouldered financiers who peddled an English drape to the dependable flannels of the power suit, Ivy League campuses have always been hotbeds of the styles associated with the upper class. Originating in Princeton and Yale (sorry guys鈥攚e can鈥檛 take credit for this one), ...
I鈥檓 on the car ride home with my best friends. We鈥檙e piled in, with five in the middle seat and two curled up in the trunk. Don鈥檛 tell my mom! The sun roof is open, the windows are down, and the velvety summer air is funneling through our hair, blonde and brown and black waves weaving into each ...
To wonder is to admire the inexplicable, to notice a rare delight; it is to allow one鈥檚 curiosity to take a meander and prod at something surprising. Lately, I have begun to collect small moments of wonder. I pluck them from this soft world as if I was born to do it鈥攖o look and listen and be filled ...
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I sat in my dorm鈥檚 communal kitchen painting my friend鈥檚 nails. It was mid-first semester and the heat hadn鈥檛 turned on yet, so it was uncomfortable to wear anything less than a sweatshirt. Every time I finished a nail, my friend would lift his hand close to his eyes to examine the quality of ...
One year, my mother committed herself to scrapbooking my oma鈥檚 life. For weeks, she scoured the depths of old boxes and dusty albums, until she鈥檇 found records of every pivotal moment of my oma that she could. Sepia, water-stained photos adorned the pages, accompanied by careful captions, dates. ...
The tiny European car parked outside the window of Babu鈥檚 cafe in Z眉rich has a few droplets of water on the rear windshield. The people come and go around me, on and off like the intermittent rain. They move, and I sit. A few of them are coming into the cafe, maybe even to sit by the window with ...
As if by reflex, I grab the keys off the kitchen counter and toss them to my sister. A frequent inhabitant of the passenger seat, I am more than happy to relinquish control of the car. We head into the sticky garage, and the familiar humidity of a Rhode Island summer greets us. Our routine begins.
鈥淟iu Bei鈥檚 men were getting closer. You could hear them beating their drums, waving their torches, shouting their war songs into the frigid air as they sailed closer and closer.聽
As we shuffled through the halls of the Vatican Museums, we were packed like sardines, herded like cattle, moving like a flock of sheep. Not much thinking was required of us, except maybe to keep on walking鈥攄o not stop in the immediate path of another person and hinder the current of this sea of people. ...
Full Camera Roll
Here the stars are bright and begging, like pennies at the bottom of a well. Here the trees are green, even in the heart of winter, for here the winter does not exist. Here I feel hidden, tucked away into a pocket of the night. We are so far from the city, from the lights, from the highway. It is the ...
cw: mentions of food anxiety and negative body image聽
Here are some words. Some are fabricated from words in different languages, some are molded from combinations of words long dead, and some are words that already exist to which I have given new meaning. Some are words that were reaching out with tantalizing fingertips, begging to be rescued from dusty ...
Tears, laughter, and joy spill across the strings of Taylor Swift鈥檚 guitar. This is the Taylor I know and love. She is the one who always listens, the one who got me through middle school, the one who makes me jump and shout with glee鈥攁ll with a mere click on Spotify. This Taylor disappeared with ...
Have you ever wondered: Would the neural connections in my prefrontal cortex have survived the 20th century completely intact? Would Freud have diagnosed me with hysteria? Is that a woman I see in the wallpaper?聽
Editor's note: This article was written by an author who is in the midst of exploring their gender identity. In order to maintain a sense of privacy, they requested this piece be published anonymously. In addition, they do not intend to take away space meant for non-binary or trans people, or minimize ...
I know romanticizing sleep deprivation is a little foolish. I am not speaking of just any sleep deprivation; I am speaking of the kind you knowingly bring upon yourself when you are young and carefree, the kind that puts you in a dream-like state, replaying snippets from the previous night. If you have ...
Trees in Rhode Island stand tall and thin, reaching toward the deep-blue sky with their spindly branches. From the window of a train speeding from Providence to Boston, I watch them stretch, toward the clouds, toward each other, standing proud and bare in the icy earth. On the CalTrain from my hometown ...
