Should the Sk8er Boi get back at the Ballet Girl?


Sk8er Boi, that pop culture gem in which Avril Lavigne sings the epic tale of an “alternative” guy who fancied a more “mainstream looking” girl, whom fancied him back, but never actually acted out on her feelings because her friends were a bunch of judgmental morons who didn’t approve of his oversized clothes. Five years later, this poor girl is trapped in what we can assume is a not so happy marriage when she sees that Sk8er Boi is now a superstar (slammin’ on his guitar) and her asshole friends are all his fans. The song is sung from the perspective of the Sk8er Boi’s current romantic partner (probably a Sk8er Girl), who tells our Ballet Girl that she missed out on being with a huge rock star just because looks mattered more to her.

It’s a great song that plays on the everlasting trope of the “weird looking” misfits vs. the “normal looking” people that reject them, but in the end, the adorable and always more talented weirdos win. Yay! Or not…

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Melody vs. Lyrics

By Camila Abisambra

What’s in a song? I remember a few months ago I read an article that asked a band what hit them first when they heard a song: the lyrics or the melody? I often go back to that question because I thought I had a definitive answer when it was first posed and then, as different songs strike my fancy, the answer is always under construction. Nevertheless, I can safely say I’m more of a lyrical person. There’s nothing like a clever line, a witty play of words or just honest poetry to capture the soul. This does not mean that a good melody won’t capture my heart. In fact, there needs to be a marriage between the two for a song to be truly spectacular but I will admit I’ve forced myself to love songs whose melody doesn’t strike me just because of a beautiful line.

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The Jimi Hendrix Experience

By Camila Abisambra

As I sit here in Seattle for the weekend, I can’t help but think about Jimi Hendrix. Seattle has been the home of many great talents, but none greater than Jimi in my book. With an incredible career cut way too soon, he made an impact in music and in fashion that cannot be deleted. I’m often quite sad when I think about the 27 club, all those musicians whose lives were cut short and who still had so much to give. Seattle has a great museum called the EMP and if anyone ever gets the chance to go see it I fully recommend it, from amazing clothes to the vinyls, it’s well worth the trip.

The thing about Jimi is that he, for me, exemplifies the style of the 60’s turning into the 70’s. A time that is perhaps quite idealized in everyone’s mind but that in reality was quite turbulent. The hippie movement had failed and soon the Punks would come out to make a statement on society and old structures of class and power. In this turbulence, Jimi emerged as a saving grace for music. His clothes were brighter, bolder and his talent bigger.

So for today, let’s kick it back to ’69 and enjoy some Jimi

What it feels like for (a non native speaking) girl

By Daniela Serrano

As you may or may not recall from past posts, I now find myself living in the quite wonderful city of Boston. I’ve been here for almost four weeks now, but only two of those have been actually living alone. Not completely alone, I have two adorable roommates (shout out!), but you get my point. Now, confession time: all through my application process and right up to the point where my parents drove away I had been supremely confident (read: cocky) about my ease with the english language. I’ve known english ever since I can remember, I write it, I read it, I spanglish it, but for the past ten years I have never had to speak it for more than five minutes. So I was sadly surprised to find myself struggling so hard, sometimes, with it. After much commute thinking about it I think I’ve found the best way to describe how it feels and I will share it with you because maybe some of you are in the same position or maybe you have friends who are struggling with words as well, and this might help, or not, but it can’t hurt.

First, what personally bothers me the most about this loss of words is not so much not being able to get things done but this feeling that when speaking english I’m only able to show a tiny portion of myself as opposed to Spanish where the whole of the language is available to me to communicate with people in a manner that is truthful to my character.

Sure it’s not incapacitating and most certainly there are worst things that can happen to a person, but it is terribly frustrating

And because my commutes are really very long (ugh the Green Line is the worst amirite?) here is a dandy metaphor so you can better picture my frustration.

Imagine you’ve always had in your room two sets of shelves, one is really high and has a bunch of cool stuff and toys and books and sugar and spices and everything nice, and the other one is much lower and it has some books, some coloring paper, a couple of black pencils, all practical but kinda boring things. Since you’ve always been able to reach the higher shelf, the one that you like best because it’s so much more interesting, the stuff on the lower one has just been gathering dust for a while (like that penguin in Toy Story.) To me, and probably to some, not being fluent in a language is as if one day you woke up and had shrunk.



And you stretch and stand on your tiptoes, but just can not reach that damn shelf, so, because one has to keep on living, you start getting by with the things on that lower shelf. But being forced to use the less fun things wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t know just how much more fun things were at the top shelf. So maybe you don’t crack the jokes you usually would’ve or stop yourself from participating in a conversation because the thought of having to translate, pronounce and possibly have to explain everything you say is so draining. And that, my friends, can get really upsetting really fast.

Now for the good news. YAY! Speaking a new language is a muscle, not technically but whatever, and like any muscle it has to get sore and worked out before it can look “Jane Fonda” great. So, as I sit here, deeper and deeper in my grad school assignments and life I can honestly say that I feel myself getting more comfortable with the language everyday, and that maybe the stuff on the top shelf is not irreparably lost, I just have to stretch a bit harder.

Now please tell me your own struggles with this type of thing so I don’t feel like the only loser who thinks about this on the train.


The Great Male Renunciation?

By Camila Abisambra

A lot has been said about female fashion. In fact, it’s gotten to a point where you associate fashion with feminine and it’s an exception to think about it in any other way. In fact, little to no attention is paid to the style of men. Despite being in a system where masculinity is privileged, it seems this is an area where they have no input and where masculinity is regarded as bland, boring and uniform. This has been called the ‘male renunciation’. Somewhere in the XIX Century men decided to renunciate their right to be fashionable in favor of a uniform look.

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Mondays are better with friends

By Camila Abisambra

I know I’ve talked so much about friendship lately but, sorry, not sorry. Friends are what make my world go around. They’re what make sitting in the library reading a great adventure filled with memories. I’ve compiled a fun playlist, filled with some of my favorite songs that remind me of my lovely friends and lovely times. I hope these will make your Monday a little better and you remember those lovely people around you that make Mondays endurable.

BFF Style

By Camila Abisambra

Since I’m feeling the love for all my friends this week, I thought Sunday was the perfect opportunity to fawn upon my favorite best friends in the world. The matching jacket girls who are clearly killing it in the friendship department. From Alexa Chung to Poppy Delevingne, there’s no better look on you than your BFF.