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The motto of each new year is, out with the old and in with the new. For TikTok though, every month re–enters the perpetual cycle of labeling pre–existing trends as the newest ‘aesthetic’.
100 years after prohibition, Philly’s BYO restaurants are modern-day speakeasies.
Since it first reached American readers in 1971, The Bell Jar has become synonymous with feminine sadness. The novel was revolutionary, following a young Esther Greenwood, a misunderstood and depressed girl walking the tightrope between adolescence and adulthood. As she confronts the oppressive norms of femininity, the expectations of womanhood are so taxing as to quite literally drive her crazy.
I first dipped my toes into the world of beauty and skincare at the age of nine. As soon as my mom left to run errands, I snuck into her room and planted myself at her magical vanity. With the contents of her makeup bag laid out in front of me, Zoella’s iconic makeup tutorials playing on an iPad mini, and a luxurious black bullet of lipstick in hand, I meticulously applied the scarlet shade to my lips. Armed solely with practice in using Maybelline’s BabyLips, it’s no surprise that the final result was far from ideal—I looked more like Miranda Sings than Red–era Taylor Swift.
When it comes to dating decrees, all women know that there’s only one rule that matters: “The bigger the better”—bigger resumes, that is. If you thought dating apps could not get more brutally superficial then you haven’t heard of The League—a dating app catered to students and graduates of elite universities and high–powered professionals. What do all of these students, finance bros, and CEOs have in common? Their big, big … resumes. And the app’s tagline, you ask? “Have you been told that your standards are too high? Keep them that way.”
The hallowed halls of Penn field endless traditions. First years celebrate their first steps on campus with convocation and a boozy New Student Orientation. The next four years get filled to the brim with throwing toast onto the field at football games, Hey Day, U–Night, Spring Fling—you get the picture. And at the end of it all, students commemorate the completion of their college years with a week of festivities that culminates in a grand graduation ceremony.
Have you ever watched a TV show and become so immersed in the characters' stories that you cried for them? Maybe even had a crush on one of them? Humans tend to idealize and identify with many things. As kids we love and care for toys, as teenagers, we become obsessed with fictional characters. The emotions we experience with these lifeless objects and characters can mirror the feelings we have for real individuals. But what if a robotic companion could mean even more to humans? What if we could have sex with robots, or even fall in love with them?
With the arrival of Valentine’s Day, it’s time to ask: How do you say “I love you”? Well, other than in those words exactly. A box of chocolate–covered strawberries? A handcrafted card? An all–expenses–paid surprise vacation? (Maybe not that last one if you’re a college student.) If you’re lost, there’s even a very popular theory of five “love languages.” For a time, the mixtape was the pinnacle of thoughtfulness and accessibility in gift–giving. Burning a CD or packing a cassette with songs that perfectly described one’s feelings for their loved one was not only inexpensive but also seen as an art form. Nostalgia for this artifact of the past persists; mixtapes feature even in relatively recent films as a symbol of love. With the rise of music streaming services, it seems the art of the mixtape is dead. But Spotify Blends might be the 2020s’ adaptation of a beloved tradition.
If you’re a Penn student, you’ve probably spent the last few days waiting with bated breath as the congressional hearings about antisemitism on college campuses and Liz Magill’s resignation make top national news. You stalk the The Daily Pennsylvanian Instagram account, and your inbox is flooded with email after email discussing Scott Bok, Magill, Julie Platt, and the state of our campus. This is to be expected after such an unprecedented turn of events. But we didn’t expect our president to be the subject of a Saturday Night Live cold open.
Artificial intelligence—the pariah of many creatives, a signal of the end of an autonomous and engaged human race that will transform us all into the people from WALL–E. Or is it?
As one of the only senior girl groups still active in the K–pop industry, Red Velvet has made a lasting impact on the genre. Title tracks like “Red Flavor,” “Dumb Dumb,” “Zimzalabim,” and “Psycho” display a sample of the group’s wide and expansive sound. No matter if the group showcases its “Red” (the bubbly, colorful pop side) or its “Velvet” (the darker, evocative R&B–influenced side), listeners know that the five–member girl group has one of the most diverse and creative approaches to the K–pop genre.
Think about the last time you saw a woman over 60 portrayed on screen as anything but a passive grandmotherly figure. There’s Grace and Frankie, It’s Complicated, Something’s Gotta Give and, well, that’s pretty much it. But for older men, there are a myriad of examples of men over 60 starring in dynamic roles—just think how many Harrison Ford movies have come out since he turned 60 in 2002. Despite the one dimensional examples of older women on screen, most are still part of the workforce until their mid 60s and are active in raising families. Like anyone else, they’re falling in love, grieving losses, exploring the world, and occasionally running into trouble. This phenomenon goes beyond the screen. Surveys have shown that women feel not only devalued by society as they age, but increasingly invisible. This has real world implications, manifesting itself beyond jokey birthday cards to workplace discrimination. The Golden Bachelor seeks to change the lack of representation of women over 60 in media, showcasing the highest peaks and lowest valleys of life after qualifying for AARP while staying (mostly) true to life.
Bundles of presents under a glistening Christmas tree. Keeping up with decades–old traditions. Quality time with loved ones. For many people, these are the hallmarks of the holiday season. For others, like myself, the staple of post–Thanksgiving holiday cheer is listening to hours upon hours (upon hours!) of Christmas music.
It’s 11:59 p.m. on the night of Nov. 29, 2015. You’re bent over your laptop screen, anxiously staring at the Kylie Lip Kits website, waiting for the clock to hit 12 to get your hands on the highly coveted liquid lipstick and liner.
Like many other young women, I was raised with a seemingly unexplainable vendetta against the color pink. Since blue became my favourite color over pink at the ripe age of four, I’ve actively avoided anything to do with it—in my clothes, my room decor, my tech accessories. Pink has always been too girly.
Something has shifted in the sports world since September. The first time I noticed it, I was getting coffee with a friend on a chilly Tuesday morning, when surprisingly, one of the first things out of her mouth was an apology. She asked for my patience over the next few minutes, and for forgiveness in advance for anything she—or those like her—would say about how NFL football worked.
As I looked around my afternoon psychology lecture, an overwhelming number of students had their laptops open to crossword puzzles. From The New York Times' daily mini-puzzle to The Wall Street Journal’s Monday puzzle to The Daily Pennsylvanian's acrostic, there seemed to be countless students trying to solve a crossword in between lecture slides. It was surprising to see a shift from the typical lecture hobbies of Instagram, online shopping carts, and texts with friends. Has Gen Z taken up a new hobby?
Walking down the gravel sidewalks of the Seventh Ward, passersby are struck by what appears to be an inexplicable coalescence of past and present. At 538 Lombard Street, individuals marvel at the sight of Mrs. Doris Way passing by Mother Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church in 1973 and others swear to have seen Nat “King” Cole performing a piano jazz medley at 510 South Broad Street.
Good grief! As finals season approaches, so does the holiday season. Synonymous with this time of year is a certain franchise: Peanuts. With five feature films and 51 television specials under their belts, Charlie Brown and company are the epitome of consistent cultural presence. Though it seems there’s a 25–minute to hour–long short for every holiday—from Easter to Arbor Day—true Peanuts primetime arises as soon as East Coast temperatures hit the fifties. The best of the best cover the three major American events of the season: Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Millions have watched these specials air each year for decades (a fact that led to considerable backlash when Apple TV+ acquired them and it appeared the company wouldn’t allow the tradition to carry on). Aside from Charles Schulz’s instantly memorable characters, however, there’s another element that contributes to the Peanuts specials’ charm, and it’s all thanks to Vince Guaraldi.
The year 2023 will always be remembered for music, at least for me. I’ve had personal stakes in many of the albums that have come out this year. The prodigal boys, i.e. boygenius, reunited after five years and put out the film, directed by none other than Kristen Stewart, and Lana saved lives and served (at Waffle House). If these past few years have proven the solid foundation of artists, 2023 is about those artists taking a sledgehammer on that base and reemerging brand new.
Solutions by The State News