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Made you look

(04/25/11 9:00am)

“You are not a writer.” Every person at The Chronicle has told me this since I stepped into the doors of 301 Flowers my freshman year and chose the photo hallway instead of the news corridor. However, I would like to defend myself because I am a writer—I just choose to use visuals to tell my story instead of words. Pixels create the eye-catching, front-page photos that make you pick up the paper every day. So no, I am not your typical pen-to-paper writer, but I do help tell each story within the paper. I write with color, I write with depth-of-field, with shadows and emotions. Visuals, even those photos of yet another conference podium, enrich the stories flanked by rows of perfectly kerned black text. But now, you are reading my writing and not my photos for one of the first times in the history of my four years behind this paper.


Trending: Pet Peeves

(04/25/11 9:00am)

Everyone has pet peeves of the things Dukies wear on campus that they cannot stand. I have 25 of them, probably more. I walk down the quad some days wondering what people were thinking when they woke up—or did they just roll out of bed? Please get dressed in the morning: really, it doesn’t take very long, and you will look ten times better for the rest of the day. You could even use this wonderfully helpful list of fashion no-no’s to guide you—post it next to your mirror, which is another stop you should take before you walk out the door.



Trending: Color

(02/09/11 11:21am)

Painting your body Duke blue is the only time it’s okay to go completely monotone. Outside of K-ville, dress up your winter grays, blacks, navies and browns with some color. The rainbow expands beyond the ROYGBIV basics and encompasses honeysuckle, chartreuse, and vermilion. Explore them, enjoy them: our campus needs some S.A.D.-fighting color!






VISITING SAUDI ARABIA

(04/23/08 4:00am)

While waiting for Saudi Arabian Airlines Flight 20 to depart from JFK, I was handed a black abaya and matching veil. I felt a mixture of emotions as amorphous as the formless garment, pulling the abaya over my head in the neutral territory of the airplane bathroom somewhere over Egypt. I had imagined that I would feel oppressed and objectified, wearing the polarizing black robe; instead, I felt excitement and curiosity about the cultural exchange I was about to experience.