Magazines and Mirrors

Magazines and Mirrors

What came first, the chicken or the egg? Does the objectification and oppression of women in modern culture stem from advertisement portrayal or do we portray women in advertisements as objectified and oppressed because of our modern culture? Does it matter which comes first if we are not willing to admit this phenomenon exists, much less consider changing either?

It is no secret that advertisements impact our perception of the world. That is after all, their intent; to convince, convey, persuade, interest, tempt us into paying money for whatever it is they are advocating. You can argue the philosophical morality of persuasion but ultimately it is happening almost every second of every day. Advertisements bombard us on billboards, buses, social media platforms, television, magazines, benches, t-shirts, digital screens of all kinds. Advertisement is not a new concept by any means, it’s been happening as long as entrepreneurship has existed. However, we have never had more constant exposure to this pressure.

In advertisements, we see a female portrayed as young, beautiful, thin and typically white. If all of humanity was to be wiped out and millions of years later, a life form came to earth and found all of our advertisements, they might assume that human females were never older than 25, never more than 120 pounds, never of color, and never in control. This is the way that we have portrayed women for almost the entire history of our nation. It is inaccurate and isolating of every woman who does not fit that small, select demographic—which is most of us.

We are visual creatures with eyes that take in incredible amounts of color, shape and depth. This is a crucial aspect of our evolution that allows us to create art, build buildings, escape predators and navigate our beautiful planet. However, this need for visual pleasure leaves us with a human flaw of a deep craving for visual perfection. While beauty is in the eye of the beholder, society at large decides who that beholder is for us all. The western definition of beauty is accepted as fact by many of us. We are not taught to question this concept of beauty for much of our young lives. It is not inherently wrong to love beautiful and wonderful visuals, this very longing is what built the Taj Mahal, gave inspiration for the Mona Lisa, painted the Sistine Chapel. However, defining what beauty means for an entire continent is a limiting and dangerous concept.

We have idealized thinness in our country for the past 40 years. Our perception of the ideal body type has ebbed and flowed with the time period. In a country facing the worst obesity epidemic of all time, it is either ironic or very rational that we romanticize extreme thinness. To be thin in America is to have conquered the ultimate enemy—food. But when we demonize food, the very thing that keeps us alive and moving and glowing, we create problems that have and will kill people. Anorexia, bulimia and other similar disorders are on the rise in our country. We have fat-shamed to the point that even perfectly healthy people see themselves as undesirable in the light of day. The thing we don’t often talk about is that perfection can sometimes quite literally kill you. As children, we do not question if our bodies are perfect. We are running and jumping and swimming and pretending and playing and imagining. We are too busy, happy and full to question whether our thighs are too big. Eating disorders do not solely impact women, another stigma we must fight to overcome. But the number of women that suffer from eating disorders is disproportionate to that of men. The common denominator? Exposure to media and images that put this singular idea of beauty into our young and impressionable minds.

We harm women not only in the choice of the type of women that we choose to portray in media, but also the way that we portray women in media. Docile and dominated, women are used as props and objects to sell product. Submissive pose after submissive pose, ingrained into female and male minds alike.

We continue to wonder why sexual assault on college campuses is an epidemic. We question why domestic violence occurs again and again. We are horrified when a husband violently murders his wife after a long pattern of abuse. We berate women for scandalous outfit choices. We let rapists walk free. We do nothing to change the laws that allow these occurrences to go unreported, unnoticed, unknown. And we continue to pose strong women in a position of vulnerability. We have made victimization beautiful. The romanticization of the thin, starving, sad model permeates modern fashion modeling. I am not trying to prove causation. But it is difficult to deny a level of correlation.

In advertisements, women’s body parts are used as props to sell. When we cut women into pieces on an ad spread, we segment women into parts rather than a whole. Bodies become decoration rather than human beings with souls and laughs and lives. These body parts become our defining characteristics. Not only does this lead men to believe that women are nothing but the sum of their parts but it also convinces women of this falsehood as well. Physicality becomes a measurement of our worth.

I’ve heard the counterarguments. The same sentiments that perpetrate any contradiction of feminist theory. “It happens to men too.” “We all are attracted to beauty, why is this bad?” “Just ignore it, it’s not a big deal.” But it is a big deal, a huge deal actually. When the narrative is switched, it is not the same. We notice it. We look at it and realize something looks wrong.

Why don’t we see that the other way around? It is undeniably different. Power plays a large role in the significance of perception. Women have been overpowered by men for centuries, physically and politically. This context gives momentum to the destructive manner in which women are portrayed. One is not independent of the other.

I argue that we cannot continue to blame the media for all of our societal problems. We cannot continue to point fingers and then plug our ears when responsibility must be taken. These are not “they” problems, they are “us” problems. Companies advertise to sell their products and increase their profit. They are not doing it out of malice or hatred. This is the nature of a capitalistic society. A private company’s objective is to make money, to sell goods. I think it is time we look ourselves in the mirror and ask why is this selling? Why is it so effective?

The media is us. We are society. We are choosing to consume these products, to buy these magazines, to believe the narrative that they are selling to us. It is a conscious decision and as conscious consumers we must protest, speak out, draw attention to redesigning the appeal. In a patriarchal society, this is not a simple demand. But I believe the tides are capable of changing, that the wind is blowing from a new direction. I choose to believe this because I have to believe this. Because it is too terrifying to think anything otherwise.

[photos property of Vogue]





How to Make Your Own Sound

How to Make Your Own Sound

’Tis the season to apply for summer internships and panic because so is everyone else and how can I really impress this recruiter using only my brief handshake and why are we all carrying around leather rectangles to look professional and also I hate the person I sound like in cover letters…

Once upon a time, the other day, mid-application to yet another summer internship, I had a horrifying realization. I didn’t really want to intern there. Like ever. Yet, I was going through the motions of listing my extracurricular activities and awards to impress a person I’d never met and hope they think I’m qualified to do something, anything. Not only did I not actually want to work there, I couldn’t remember why I ever thought that I did. I know that your first job will probably not be your dream job. That sometimes you have to put in years and years of hard work at the bottom to make it to the top. But you should only do that if that is the top you want to make it to.

In college, you hear a lot of voices. Advising, warning, helping, yelling voices that for the most part, just want the best for you. But in the process, you can start to forget what your own voice sounds like. It can become impossible to differentiate all the voices telling you what you should do, from your own tired voice whispering what you want to do. It’s just  too loud out here. 

It’s important to remember that everyone else’s dreams for you might not be the same as your own dreams for you. And you might need to swim against the current or get out of the stream entirely to get to where you’re trying to go. And sometimes you might not know where you’re trying to go. There’s a long list of options they hand you at the beginning of college but those are not the limits for what life can be. So if you don’t want to be an accountant or a doctor or a dental hygienist, the good news about democracy is that you don’t have to be. There are a lot of careers that aren’t labeled by a noun or a halloween costume.

Listen to your own voice. Go somewhere quiet so you can hear it like a coffee shop or your bed or the middle of the woods. Write down what it says and do that thing, not the other things. I think I sound like Grandmother Willow or something when I say this but the answers are inside you. Fo real. So listen up, listen hard, block out the background noise. Take advice but not too seriously. Listen to their words of wisdom but listen to your heartbeat more. Make your own sound. 

The Imposter Effect

The Imposter Effect

It’s happens when you’re sitting in an important meeting with important people and you feel like a lizard who scuttled its way in here, transformed into a human being and no one blinked an eye. It’s happens when you land your dream internship that you damn well earned but you’re just busy hoping they don’t notice who they just hired. It’s a promotion, a nomination, an award, a thank you and all you can think is– who, me?

No matter how much you accomplish, you’re patiently waiting for the shroud to be ripped away, the man behind the curtain to be exposed and a crowd of executives in business suits to point and laugh. Or something like that. It’s called imposter syndrome, coined by clinical psychologists Pauline R. Clance and Suzanne A. Imes in 1978. It’s the feeling that you’re faking it and barely making it. Imposter syndrome describes individuals who have an inability to internalize their accomplishments and fear being exposed as a “fraud”. You pray the façade holds up and that you can keep on playing this game.

This phenomenon is most common among high-achieving women. So congrats—if you feel like this ever, you’re probably a high achieving women. And I get it, you probably didn’t believe that at all when you read it. A high achieving woman? “I’m a worm in clothes.” –me, most of the time. But it’s real. When we succeed we feel as if we were wearing Harry’s invisibility cloak and snuck into success undetected.

This feeling is most common among people who are perfectionists, overwork, undermine their achievements, fear failure and discount praise.

From college students to internationally renowned writers, this feeling is not unfamiliar.

“I have written 11 books, but each time I think “Uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody and they’re going to find me out.” –Maya Angelou. Maya Angelou, people.

A study by Queena Hoange also suggests that people of color may experience “imposter syndrome” as a result of wondering if they were given their position by affirmative action. This is because imposter syndrome often occurs in groups excelling in areas that were not always accessible to them traditionally. When we do well at things we are told we should not be doing well in we sit and wonder what went wrong.

You! Are! Deserving! Of! Opportunities! You! Are! Given!

Revel in that. You may not be entitled to these opportunities, but you do not deserve them any less than anyone else. When you work hard, you are able to be rewarded. Don’t belittle this. Don’t self-deprecate. Don’t play it like it’s nothing. Take it in like rare air. Breathe in success, to the deepest atoms of your lungs and let it sit there because it feels good and it’s right. Stop describing yourself and your life as “just” or “only” anything. Grab onto the good words that are given to you, raise them in the air and go chase some more. Drink some coffee and pretend you know what you’re doing, because you do. 



My room. My closet. My car. My hair. My brain.

Every once in a while, all of the above.

A mess.

Your twenties can feel disastrous. Like downward spiraling mixed with euphoria mixed with McDonald’s fries. We try to play it cool. The weekly I’m officially gonna get it together declaration strikes again, more boldly, more painfully, more dramatically. On social media and girl dates we put on filtered facades and swear we are doing so well, seriously so, so well guys. And for the most part we are. Most of us have a tremendous amount of privilege that we walk around with every single day and it’s important to recognize this. But there are moments when shit hits the fan and we immediately go running to the curtains to make sure that no one else can see our war zones of a life.

I’m learning to like the mess. We are in disarray, a shifting chaos that is learning, improving and changing. Growing is messy stuff. Ask any mother of a toddler. There’s spaghetti on the walls and yogurt in their hair and something questionable on their shirt. And it’s adorable. How many first birthday pictures are memorable because the kid ate her cake without smashing it in her face?

Your mess is your story, your mess is your narrative, your mess is the thing that keeps it interesting. We don’t read books or see movies for smooth, seamless, perfect, angelic lack of plots. A good plot looks a lot like a disaster and smells a lot like explosives.

Do it, screw it up, do it again, maybe screw it up worse. Watch yourself get better.

Look around at your mess. Don’t compare your mess to anyone else’s mess.

Appreciate your own mess.



We cover it in words, music, anecdotes, ums, hms, car horns, fans, ambiance, rain sound apps, noise machines. Anything and everything to cover it up.

Why do we hate it so much?

When it is silent we hear ourselves. Our own minds don’t shut up. They sound like us, same voice, speaking words that are much more raw, bitter, real, blunt, burnt than our outward voices could ever be. It’s panic and chaos and fear and repression, boiling to the surface the very second it gets a chance. So we turn on some Spotify and drown it out. But underneath that city street during rush hour haze of chaos is exactly what we need to hear whether we want to or not. Our inner voice of truth. That doesn’t get to say much very often. But when it does, it’s real. I saw a quote once “Silence isn’t empty. It’s full of answers.” And as powerful as our shaking voices may be, sometimes we need to stop, turn off Harry Styles, stfu and listen.

Introvert is a Loud Word

Introvert is a Loud Word

Growing up, I was shy. Like hide-behind-my-dad’s-legs-everytime-a-human-looked-at-me-shy. But by middle school, this innate fear of people wore off, I came out of the shell and actually got moved to “Siberia” for talking too much in Spanish class in high school.

So yeah I like people, I like parties, I like socializing. But not all the time.

Introvert does not mean shy. Shyness is often outgrown, introvertism is a way of existing. Extraversion and introversion reference the way through which we re-energize, relax, rejuvenate. For many people this is done through hanging out with friends, dinner with family, drinks with co-workers, social activities. And as much as I love all those things, I will remain exhausted. I find energy through quiet and independent things such as reading, hiking, watching a movie, going to the grocery store alone, whatever, as does roughly 25% of the world population. These are times to be in my head, uninterrupted, resting. Introversion is “the state of or tendency toward being wholly or predominantly concerned with and interested in one’s own mental life”. Introverts do not need to “break out of their shell”. Introverts are not sad. Introversion does not need to be cured.

Like many things in the world, extraversion and introversion occur on a spectrum. Most of us fall somewhere towards the middle, slightly leaning one direction or another. A few fall directly in the middle, call ambiverts. But understanding and acknowledging how you draw energy is vital to living fully.

Much of our societal structure is not well designed for introverts, specifically college or most of our education system. College is a noisy, crazy, engaging fest of never ending stimulus, that I truly do love. However, we reward speaking often in class with participation points, speaking often in clubs with leadership positions, and speaking often on campus with the label of leader. We often treat extraversion and capability as synonyms. But by doing so we could miss out on a lot of incredible beings; Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, Rosa Parks, Albert Einstein, Eleanor Roosevelt, JK Rowling, Hillary Clinton, Elon Musk, Barack Obama, and Frederic Chopin– all introverts, to name a few.

This is a call for educators and leaders to understand that vocality does not always positively correlate with intelligence. This is a call to listen to those with the good ideas. This is a call to lead, even if you do so with a whisper, if you’re the one with the good ideas. And don’t feel weird if you’re the only one not yelling.
Don’t just take my word for it, here’s people who know more:


Featured photo from the Women’s March 2017