The Situation Is That I Don’t Want You: How to Avoid People

Sofia Sklar ‘27 

Godric the Gryphon, Photo by @sarahlawrencecollge on Instagram

“It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss” - Mr. Brightside 

So, you had a little too much fun at a party one night. You’re probably starting to realize just how hard it is to avoid someone on a college campus that’s roughly the size of a city block, if even that. With only two dining halls and a student population of just over 1,500, it may seem like an impossible task to avoid people on campus, but not to worry. Here at The Phoenix, we’ve crunched the numbers, and here are the three best ways to avoid that person on campus. 

1. Never Leave Your Dorm

Bed rotting is one of the simple joys in life, so why not use it to your benefit? There’s no plausible way to see them if you’re using this avoidance method. How could you run into someone if you never leave your dorm? It’s foolproof unless they’re within eyeshot every time you look outside your window (which – depending on how frequently that’s happening – might be indicative of a more serious problem), or unless your roommates are letting them in, you’ll never see them. Or, if you’re one of the lucky few whose situationship is their roommate. We’ve all been there. Granted, it might start to get stuffy and boring after a while, but hey, you’ll never see that person again, so technically, you won. 

1. Transfer 

Why keep yourself confined to just Sarah Lawrence? Yes, it’s hard to transfer your credits out of this college, but it’s a minor price to pay in order to never have to see them again, so it’s worth it. Find another school to attend, and hopefully, you won’t do the same thing there. You’ll never see them again, and you’ll be able to avoid them infinitely. This is guaranteed, unless you live in the same city, or they transfer to the same school, and in which case, good luck. 

1. Become Godric the Gryphon

A mascot costume is the best way to hide your face, body, and everything else. It’s easy,  simple, and you don’t have to worry about looking good for a revenge era. Simply email the athletics department and ask if you can wear the Godric costume around. Not only will they think that you’re incredibly school spirited, you’ll be able to sleuth around campus undetected. You are no longer you. You’re Godric the Gryphon. You’re a campus celebrity, but nobody knows who you are under the mask, like Batman. People might start to think that you’re a furry, but who cares? It’s Sarah Lawrence. .

Long story short, it’s hard to avoid people on this campus, unless you’re trying to be Godric the Gryphon. But hopefully, this advice can be of use to somebody who really needs it. Happy avoiding, Gryphons!

The Dream of the 90s is Alive at Sarah Lawrence

Nora Searles

Visual by Josie Garkisch

In 2011, Carrie Brownstein and Fred Armisen claimed that Portland was a magical place where people could go to stay in their 90s alternative heaven. Now, in 2024, I have decided to pass the candle over to a new place where that same dream can thrive: Sarah Lawrence College. Goodbye Oregon, hello Yonkers! 

Have you noticed a sudden influx of lululemon-wearing sorority girls, or too many promotions about the negative side effects of smoking around every corner? Look no further than Sarah Lawrence: Gregg Araki’s nonconformist dreamscape of aliens and raves materializes in this one-mile radius. 

Remember the opening scene of “Wayne’s World”, where they’re driving in the Mirthmobile, listening to “Bohemian Rhapsody” on the way to a burger joint? That’s what Friday nights look like here at SLC, except the car is a Subaru Forester, students are listening to The Dare, and they’re probably on the hunt for Impossible Meat™. If Portland is becoming a bit too mainstream, don’t fret! Just across the U.S. lies a blended world of final girls and sleaze-queens, where people either dress like the Dude from “The Big Lebowski” or Morticia Addams. 

The dream of the 90s is alive at Sarah Lawrence, where students’ to-do lists are as follows:

12 p.m.: Wake and bake

1 p.m.: Eat vegan tofu scramble from Bates

3 p.m.: Sell used clothes in front of Barb, and inflate prices for freshman

5 p.m.: Hang out 

5:30 p.m.: Smoke another joint

10 p.m.: Fuck around 

3 a.m.: Pass out 

Repeat 

The dream of the 90s is alive at Sarah Lawrence, where everyone crowds in a single dorm to watch someone get a tramp stamp by a butch lesbian with a brand-new tattoo gun and plans to make it big. “Far out,” the people chant, because here at SLC, we support local artists, no matter the fact that the person will probably have the tattoo re-lined and filled in by a professional a few days later. 

The dream of the 90s is alive at Sarah Lawrence, where we only take three classes, and a 9:30 a.m. class is considered early. What are these classes, you might ask? Anything in your wildest, weirdest dreams. Anything goes at Sarah Lawrence. In an economics class? Try doing an interpretive dance personifying capitalism for your conference project! 

The dream of the 90s is alive at Sarah Lawrence, where everyone has a hobby. Hobbies include, but are not limited to: clowning, selective grass breeding, playing guitar poorly, nunchuck skills, experimental drugs, open relationships, sword-fighting, sauerkraut, vegan alternatives and collecting strains of oatmilk. 

The dream of the 90s is alive at Sarah Lawrence, where everyone is in at least one band. Listen to their stuff on Spotify. Sound familiar? You’re probably thinking of Fiona Apple, Pavement or Mazzy Star. 

Men are either gay or ride skateboards. Sorry, was that mean? It doesn’t matter because here at Sarah Lawrence, you can safely live out your riot-grrrl dreams of being a man-hating feminist. One of them wrote this article!  

Inspired by the beloved late 90s movie, “Practical Magic”, freshman witches live out their whimsigothic dreams by congregating on the North Lawn to sacrifice the men sneaking into the Taylor B floor kitchenette bathroom to shit. 

The dream of the 90s is alive at Sarah Lawrence, like the girl in “Empire Records” who shaves her head in the bathroom of the record store she works at. Here at Sarah Lawrence, you can make that a performance art piece! 

The dream of the 90s is alive at Sarah Lawrence, where the only relationship options available are either a situationship or a polycule. The other, less mentioned relationship would be a cis-het  couple, colloquially known as glorified hell. Relax and enjoy watching “The L Word” in the same room as your current lover, your ex lover and the five other people in the room you have definitely made out with at a Slonim party. 

Some of the perks of living in the 90s bubble called SLC are as follows: your active culture sourdough starter along with your mint, basil, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme will thrive, as long as you feed them all your bong water.   

Think of this place like “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” but every day. Neighbors knock on your door for an American Spirit in trade of freshly-baked brownies. They’re plant-based, of course — in more ways than one. 

Everyone has a label, but if your label is too short, it’s meaningless. You can’t just be gay, you must be gay with a passion for good coffee. Overhear the only man in your Buddhism class talking about the local coffee house: “They don’t even grind their own beans,” he says as everyone cheers because thank god, this man knows what he’s talking about. They don’t grind their own beans? That is a crime of the 90s, and it is absolute blasphemy. 

The dream of the 90s is alive at Sarah Lawrence College. If you don’t believe me, ask around in your film class! Half of the people in it are probably from Portland.

FSH HST 101: The Anatomy of Sarah Lawrence Garments

Sofia Sklar ‘27

Visual by Quinn Mcgonigle

For all of the first-years coming into Sarah Lawrence College from across the globe, it may be daunting to sense whether you will ‘fit in’. But fear not! After several hours of painstaking observation (dinner at the one and only Bates Dining Hall), I’m here to instill upon you what I’ve learned about Sarah Lawrence fashion in five simple components. 

Step 1: Hair and Makeup

The heavier and more Euphoria-esque your makeup looks, the better! Granted, I’ve never actually seen Euphoria, but I imagine that the cast looks somewhat like Sarah Lawrence students. Utilize bold colors and interesting shapes, and don’t be afraid to do something different with your eyeliner! Also, don’t forget to have fun with your hair! The sky is truly the limit, and bigger is better! Dye your hair every color of the rainbow all at once. Feel free to get crazy with it. Or don’t. I don’t really care that much. It’s up to you. 

Step 2: Tops

The number one rule of Sarah Lawrence College is that everyone must have at least one tight-fitting white tank top. Even better if it’s the one that has the apple on it and says ‘Fiona’. Who’s Fiona Apple? You’ll find out! Wait, maybe you don’t want to wear only a tank top. Luckily, you can always layer with the cardigan that your friend in the visual arts program crocheted you for your birthday! 

Step 3: Bottoms:

Now that we have the top half of the outfit planned, we should probably plan the other half. Jeans are always a fashion staple, and at Sarah Lawrence this is no exception. How big are the jeans that you ‘thrifted in NYC’ from a boutique? Make them bigger. Then make those bigger. Now we’re talking! They should be close to falling off, low enough to show off your bedazzled Y2K whale tail. But wait: what are you going to wear to walk to class? 

Step 4: Shoes

Yes, we’ve all heard the rumor that you can go to class barefoot, but why would you? Besides, you know how the saying goes: ‘the taller the shoes, the closer to God’. You should listen to that and wear a pair of less-than-sensible platforms! Perhaps even a pair of cowgirl boots that have only seen the inside of a Bushwick warehouse. Of course, you could wear a pair of black combat boots, but so is everyone else in your massive 20 person seminar. 

Step 5: Accessories 

Have you ever seen a Subaru advertisement? Yeah. There you go. Study up. Try getting a carabiner and put your dorm key on it, and maybe a Sanrio charm. Maybe try out a pride pin or two, unless it clashes with your indie-grunge-shoegaze-core outfit. What about a cool beanie? 

In just five simple steps, you can look more like a typical Sarah Lawrence College student! Gryphon Pride! When people ask what your major is, remember to say that we only have concentrations —but above all, remember that there is no right or wrong way to dress like a Sarah Lawrence student! Except there is. Dress like this or you’re doing it wrong.

In Defense of the Sarah Lawrence Man

Sela Corliss, ‘26 

Visual by Alexandra Fogel

In recent years, a sinister smear campaign defaming the good name of the men at Sarah Lawrence College has been running rampant and I am here to do something I was not asked to do (because they really could not care less about me) and act as these boys’ white (or I guess Gryphon green) knight. Ladies, before you throw around disgusting, harmful terms like “golden dick syndrome” and continue to vilify these poor guys, let me ask you: have you ever had to endure the brutality of having women throw themselves at you nonstop while trying to write a conference paper? Or had to get off of the meal plan because you were hit on every time you entered Barb? I mean really, let’s think about it from their perspective; these men are busy trying to reinvent the Film Noir genre, quote Camus in a casual way, and roll better cigarettes than their friends. They’re under so much stress! Add the pressure of having to reject women while still seeming available to the rest of the queue of prospects; these guys can’t catch a break! 

Not to mention the level of objectification I’m sure these boys must feel, constantly being ogled and sexualized just for leaning on the wall at a party with their arms crossed, or owning a skateboard, or being near a guitar.  I know that women have never been made to feel this way, but please for their sake just try your best to put yourself in their shoes. It’s like everything they do just adds to them being seen as a piece of meat or some sort of prize to be won. 

Bless their hearts, these helpless guys are trying their best to get an education at a historically women's liberal arts college and they can’t get from class to class without being bombarded by another beautiful tattooed woman– it’s a battlefield! They are living their lives with a constant target on their backs. Damned if they do and damned if they don’t. They’re deemed a slut or an asshole either way– again surely something no woman can relate to, but please just use your imagination. And then if, God forbid, they punch above their weight a little bit: “golden dick syndrome strikes again.” I can have you all sued for libel. 

Our sweet boys have shown incredible strength and bravery in choosing to speak up about their hardships. Said one affected Gryphon, “Type shit.” Chilling. 

When asked about the epidemic of ravenous female flocking towards the male demographic on campus, another Sarah Lawrence male’s response was haunting, eloquent and poignant. With a subtle nod, he whispered, “On God.” 

To further illustrate my point I’ve gathered a list of things that women do freely around campus, that, if done by a man, would be received as a calculated attempt to slut it up:

1. Read a paperback book in one hand on the lawn.

2. Wear glasses (and really work the choreography of taking them on and off).

3. Wear a hat or plaid shirt or jorts (styled any way). 

4. Be a philosophy/history professor. 

5. Have highlights on Instagram.

6. Play spikeball.

7. Say their pronouns during the first day of class without making a face.

8. Press the handicap accessible door button so that it stays open and the person behind them can walk through (but all while never looking back).

9. Offer someone a meal swipe.

10. Raise their hand in class (and not be wrong) (actually it still works if they’re wrong).

11. Say thank you to the women who work at Barb.

12. Listen to Phoebe Bridgers (or Mazzy Star, Mitski, Fiona Apple, or Clairo).

13.  Be a TA.

What is it about low-top Doc Martens or a beat-up sneaker from a skate brand you surely haven’t heard of that ignites such vitriolic language from the female student body? Why is it that the minute a man paints his nails and wears rings he’s “fishing for girls with septum piercings” or “only dressing this way because he saw one TikTok of a girl saying it's attractive?” It’s hard to pinpoint where exactly the hostility towards these warriors stems from; I would guess it’s because they can’t understand La Haine on as deep of a level as a man can? Or maybe they’re jealous because they just can’t fully grasp how to have a successful incoherent Instagram account that ranges between film photography and low quality pictures of a wall? Either way, it doesn’t matter because these gracious boys have found it within their beautiful hearts to forgive all of you resentful monsters. The men have come together and are extending an open invitation to anyone on campus to partake in a one-on-one vibe sesh where you can silently watch them play an instrument, skate, or do homework. If you prefer a more public setting, feel free to attend one of their sports games and sit next to every girl they’ve hooked up with as well as their current girlfriend. 

Hopefully this act of pure selflessness will silence the hate and derogatory terminology that is constantly being thrown at our brave soldiers, but, if not, I know for a fact that they will do what they’ve always done. They will hold their heads up high and turn the other cheek (more often than not towards their friend so they can discuss the physical appearance of the girl who just walked by, but what can you do?)

The Trouble at Sarah Lawrence: Where are all the straight people?

Cleo Cummins ‘27

Visual by Maisie Bogitch

‘The trouble at Sarah Lawrence is the straight people. There's always the token straight boy and girl who will find each other right away, but what to do about all these so-called straight people? Sarah Lawrence has always been a place of sanctuary for the progressive, the avant garde, the out and out weirdos. Lesbian culture has found its home at Sarah Lawrence, dare I say since the college was founded. So what to do about all these straight people? 

I do sometimes wonder what they get up to. Where do they go, where do they hang out? What do they eat? What classes do they take? Because I'm not seeing them in my Feminist Ethics Punk class. Their presence looms so large when they walk in their huddle, but where are they walking to? There is, of course, the trope of the freshman girl from the Midwest who comes to school with a closet full of high rise denim shorts, ready to proclaim her love for men. Somehow, she spends all night talking to a girl; they fight like a married couple; eventually they are kissing behind the trees on the Bronx River Pathway. 

Straight men come to Sarah Lawrence thinking they will strike it lucky— a modern day Gold Rush, if you will— only to find girls with septum rings and an affinity for lesbianism. Loneliness and self doubt must set in. Although there is only a small population of straight men, they dominate the conversation. More troublesome, they dominate the horizon line.

 At a Slonim party, my line of sight is interrupted by the gaggle of straight men holding beers. A couple of them have girls hanging off their shoulders. They are most certainly requesting Playboi Carti or Drake be played on the speaker at the front. Their height, their mass and their confidence shields all the hot masc lesbians from my sight. Where are they? Not only are the straight men the majority party population, but they stick out like sore thumbs in the way they dress, their basketball boy lope, and their frat accent that can be heard from across the room. Conform to nonconformity straight men! Kiss your friend, engage in homoerotic friendship, read “The Bell Jar.” 

Dare I say worse than the straight man, is the straight man who looks gay. He lures you in with his lesbian haircut. He tells you he loves The Cranberries. If you get really drunk and squint, you can almost pretend that he is a tall, beautiful lesbian. But the spell is broken when he daps up his friend. His straightness becomes more apparent in that moment than ever before. 

To the straight population at Sarah Lawrence, I see you. The people from your highschool know you as the cool, the hot, the artsy. Now you have tumbled into an atmosphere of exceptionally queer people, and you want to be a part of it. I respect that. You must embrace your identity as “the trouble.” Once upon a time, the trouble at Sarah Lawrence was the overwhelming lesbian population; it is now you. Stop queer baiting me. 

An English Girl’s Guide to New York

Mia Juusola ’28

Visual by Josie Garkisch

'Sorry, I'm so sorry!' 'If you wouldn't mind?' 'I don't want to be an inconvenience!' 

I was born into a cacophony of people apologising for their own existence; no request in England goes without a thousand self-deprecating remarks. Now, I know we don't always have the best reputation (I’ve met English men). But overall, ignoring the up-its-own-ass blight some call London, we are a species so polite it borders on annoying. That’s not to say we’re always nice – we have perfected the art of passive aggression – but our generally ‘kind’ disposition is just one of the many things that makes England the place that it is. 

I have heard on numerous occasions that we have no culture, and although those claims are warranted (we tend to steal things more often than we invent them), over the centuries we have developed some behaviours that are indisputably English. So a few weeks ago, when I moved to the U.S. for college, culture shock hit me like a double-decker bus. 

To save any unaware English girl from confusion, I have compiled a list of must-know tips before stepping foot in one of the most famous places in the world: New York City.  

1. Mean is the new nice

'Thank you so much!' I said to the woman handing me my sandwich across the counter. I was in a cafe in the city, about to eat lunch. The sun was shining outside - my first time seeing sunlight in eighteen years. I prepared for one of the usual responses: 'No worries, have a nice day!' or the classic, 'You're welcome!' Instead, the woman locked eyes with me. 'Just thanks,' she drawled, correcting my overzealous display of gratitude.

 I took my sandwich. I have since dropped the 'so much' typically attached to my thank yous. This is the first of many changes I've had to undergo in my New Yorker transformation, a transformation I fear may leave me unrecognisable to my family upon my return home at Christmas. 

At least the sandwich was good, and by good, I mean bland enough for my English tastebuds. 

1. They don't know you're joking

Now, I'm the sort of person that loves to tell jokes. Not to brag, but I've had many people tell me I'm the funniest person they know. They weren't joking – I think? So when I first arrived in the US, I was well equipped with an arsenal of sarcastic comments. No one thought to tell me that I would be dealing with an entirely different audience, one just as unpredictable as English football fans. 

Take, for example, a week or so ago, when I was feeling like my most extroverted self and holding court with a group of Americans. I told a joke, and they all burst out laughing. Cheeks flushed with pride, I waited for the next window to make them laugh. When it arrived, I struck, attacking with another sardonic remark. Crickets. Nothing. A brief moment of silence to mourn my desperate attempt at humour, and then the conversation moved on. What had I done wrong?

It hit me much later: they didn't know I was even trying to make a joke! Surely, I would have received at least a pity laugh if they had. I was too used to English deadpan humour, to jokes made in a tone akin to that of a drilling manual. American humour is overstated. It's loud and obvious, and it should be accompanied by a laugh track. In short, it's everything English humour isn't. 

I have learnt to add more life into my voice, lest everyone think I'm dead inside.

1. You must flirt with death to live 

Before coming here, I really thought I had gotten the hang of crossing the street. Look right, look left, look right again – my parents practically drilled it into me. I mean, I have been crossing roads for eighteen years (perhaps I’m just a really fast learner?). Roads, yes, but New York roads? No, definitely not. Never again, if I can help it. 

I've only been in the city three times so far, but I have witnessed more near-death experiences than in the rest of my life combined. New Yorkers seemed to be convinced of their own invincibility. They walk out onto the street as if God himself will pause the clocks for them.

 Each time, I am left dumbfounded. I thought Americans hated j-walking – a word we don't even have an equivalent for in the UK. I thought I knew what I was doing! Who would have guessed I'd be so woefully incompetent at the adolescent art of crossing roads? 

My New Yorker friend told me that if a pedestrian gets hit, even if the light is red for them, they have the right to sue the driver who hit them. Maybe the people of New York are just trying to get a pretty penny. That's something I'll never know, and, if I'm being frank, something I have no real desire to uncover.

1. Look at a price and imagine it doubled

In England, tipping does not exist as a concept of more than a few pounds left on the table, and even those few pounds are only given in extreme circumstances – for instance, if you're in a very fancy restaurant or your waiter was abnormally kind. It's an entirely different story in America. 

After my plane landed in this country, I got a taxi to transport my entire life (me and my two suitcases) to college. After watching the taxi's price rise in nail-biting anticipation, I finally got to my destination, only for something unprecedented to pop up on the screen before me. Tip options. The lowest of which was a staggering 20%. I blinked. Surely my eyesight hadn't deteriorated in the twenty minutes I'd sat there? The image remained the same. I said goodbye to financial security in that fateful moment. I haven't seen it since.

1. In New York, there is no freshman fifteen

I come from the second greenest city in Europe. I have been walking all my life, a mile to and from school since I was four years old, come rain or shine (though the rain was more likely). I knew the stereotypes about New York, that it tricks you into walking until your legs give out, but I didn't believe a word. I spent my summer backpacking around Europe. I walked thirteen miles a day for a month! New York had nothing on me!

How very wrong I was.

It all started off so simple. My first city visit, a short day trip with time allotted for lots of coffee shop breaks. Seven hours later, my legs were on autopilot, powering me through the city with the intensity of an enraged soccer mom but with no game to get to. 

On the train back to campus, my friends and I were so exhausted that all ten of us somehow managed to miss the announcement of our stop. Now, Tuckahoe might be a lovely place, but it is certainly not where I wanted to end up after the most exhausting Sunday of my life. 

An hour later, legs aching, whole body shaking, I crawled into the holy space of my standard-issue twin bed and comatosed for the next few hours. Best decision of my life.

My final words of warning!

Overall, New York City is an intense place. It's expensive and loud and chaotic. Not to say England isn't all of those things too, but I like to think we're more discreet about it. There's a lyric from a song by Baz Lerhmann that says 'live in New York city once, but leave before it makes you hard.' I don't think I have ever understood a quote so well in my life.

So to any English girl eyeing up the Big Apple, be warned: it will crush your quaint English girl charm and send you into the downward spiral of 'frazzled English woman autumn.’ But hopefully, with these tips in your arsenal, you might just make it out in one piece. In truth, it will be a meaner, significantly poorer piece, but you’ll get to say you live in New York City. 

Is there really anything cooler than that? 

That’s So Sarah Lawrence: Public Displays of Abandonment

Lauren Nolan ‘24 and Christyn Refuerzo ‘26

Artwork courtesy of Ysabella Beatriz Chiongbian Punzalan ‘24. Background courtesy of Bridget Riley.

This isn’t working anymore… I think we need to take a break… It’s not you, it’s me. 

We all dread these conversations, not because we’re ending something but because really, this is not the season to be breaking up with someone. 

But while most people are concerned about what they’re going to say, at a place like Sarah Lawrence, where the liberal arts 360º exists, maybe you should be more worried about where you decide to have this conversation. 

We’ve decided to make it easier for you and give you some of our favorite places to break up with that not-so-special someone. 

Library 

Pros: there’s a lot of space and different floors so you might not run into them again; you can hide a book in front of your face if you’re crying.

Cons: voices must be lowered because people are studying; when you leave the building, you may pass the skeletons making out and be reminded that you are now single. 

Our recommendation: the Learning Commons. If you’re lucky, you might get a free treat. Tutors are available for advice and guidance. 

Elevator with other people inside 

Pros: faster than you think, so therefore more efficient; once it’s done you can just leave. 

Cons: if you get flustered easily, you might not be able to get the words out in time. Could be awkward if the door unexpectedly opens as you two are having a scream match. 

Our recommendation: great for people who need to cross this off their daily to-do list. 

The laundry room 

Pros: if you get snot on your clothes, you can immediately wash it. 

Cons: excruciatingly hot, might cause dual sweating and crying which is too much water leakage; if your laundry isn’t done yet, you have to wait there. 

Our recommendation: stand in front of a washer or dryer, so a third party has to come between you. Wouldn’t want it to get physical.  

On top of the Yoko

Pros: it’s semi-private since it can fit two people comfortably; shaded; acoustics are great. 

Cons: no access to a tissue; difficult to get down from (might need ex’s help).

Our recommendation: not great for people who have a fear of heights. 

Teahaus during Valentine’s season 

Pros: you could get comforted by a really nice barista; you’ll probably get something for free; it’s really cozy; nice lighting.

Cons: it’s a small space; you might be asked to step outside if there’s too much noise; someone might be redeeming their Valentine’s tea gram. 

Our recommendation: treat yourself to something nice, but optimally, you should get there before the treat sells out.  

Before a 9:30 a.m. seminar that you both share

Pros: you have the rest of the day to sit in bed and do nothing; are surrounded by others (not lonely).

Cons: Sleep deprived; puffy eyes in class; potential to get cold-called by a professor in class. 

Our recommendation: get to class early so you have time to regroup emotionally. 

The Barb stairs

Pros: have a dramatic walk-out; you can charge your phone after.

Cons: If not careful you could trip; could disturb the people studying nearby; could flash someone going up or down. 

Our recommendation: the higher up, the closer to God. 

In the sandwich line during peak lunch hour

Pros: you can eat soon and treat yourself to multiple proteins or nice bread; you might be able to get extra toppings/condiments for free. 

Cons: must be cognizant of speaking clearly while crying; long wait time. 

Our recommendation: not while ordering. Maybe while in the middle of the line? 

While Ultimate Frisbee is practicing on South Lawn

Pros: team sport; very nice environment; you could get out your aggression. 

Cons: you might get hit by a frisbee; you could have seasonal allergies.

Our recommendation: wear a helmet.

In line at the Post Office at 4:30pm on a Friday

Pros: might be looking forward to the package you have; they’re playing pretty good music.

Cons: crowded, small room; incredibly busy; have to wait for a while; have to walk out carrying a heavy package.

Our recommendation: be quick, there are people waiting. 

PAC Tunnels

Pros: great acoustics; warm during the winter; most private. 

Cons: you could get lost; dark; might run into a sex couch; possible point of no return.

Our recommendation: bring a map and a flashlight.

The free speech board at Bates

Pros: you can put your number for a new potential lover; you can get visually creative.

Cons: they might not see it; they might not be able to read your handwriting; someone might think it’s about them; you need access to spray paint.

Our recommendation: great for people who dislike confrontation. 

In front of Cristle Collins Judd’s office

Pros: you can use the sleeve of her green suit as a tissue; she’d probably comfort you; warm and toasty in the winter.

Cons: a little out of the way, requires some advanced planning; acoustics aren’t great.

Our recommendation: optimally done while Cristle is in her office. 

While walking up Bates Hill

Pros: literally nothing.

Cons: really out of breath; triple threat: cold, sweaty, and sad; you could trip and fall on asphalt; inaccessible; forced to go in the same direction.

Our recommendation: no, unless you’re feeling particularly cruel. 

*Disclaimer: This article was published under the Ashtray, the satire and humor section of the Phoenix. Please don’t take it seriously.

How To Know If You’re Trapped In a Hallmark Movie

Rachel O’Connor ‘26

Photo courtesy of Hallmark Movies & Mysteries website.

While you might think the biggest threat you face when you go home for the holidays is dealing with that one relative who never knows when to shut up, there's actually a darker possibility to be aware of this holiday season: being sucked into a Hallmark movie. It can be hard to tell the difference between a winter storm blowing in overnight and the start to your very own holiday romcom, so here’s some tips to help you out. Remember to stay vigilant and if your neighbors all start singing and dancing like some flashmob from hell, it's already too late.

You can’t seem to get away from five o’clock shadow guy.

Five o’clock shadow guy has perfect stubble that makes him look just the right amount of rugged, never unkempt. He wears flannels and drives an old pickup truck. He is never from the big city, always from a small town. For work, he does something with his hands that is also praiseworthy. In his spare time he contributes to the community by building birdhouses for homeless birds or helping old ladies put up their Christmas trees. He is always around, always offering a helping hand, and always reminding you with just his mere presence that your current boyfriend is a selfish scumbag who is too ambitious and doesn’t support your dreams.

Occasionally, you might encounter “decoy five o’clock shadow guy.” For the uninitiated, he might seem like five o’clock shadow guy for about five minutes because he’s handsome and nice on the surface. But cracks in his character quickly emerge. First, he’s almost always clean shaven. He (gasp) has a typical professional job, probably something in finance where he forecloses on little old ladies’ houses. There’ll be hints of selfishness, or worse, big city values. He’s here to be the foil. He might tie the girl to a railroad track, but he’s never gonna get her.

You are from the big city and have an inescapable longing for the simple life.

Whether you grew up in a small town and escaped to the city, or all you’ve ever known is city life, you are currently what can be described as a “girlboss.” You have a successful career that you insist fulfills you. You probably work in finance, entertainment, or advertising, because every single person the screenwriters know has one of those jobs. But deep down, all you really want is for a handsome lumberjack to show you the error of city living so you can abandon your financially stable career and have a family, because for some unexplained but universally accepted reason you can’t have both.

You are forced to spend the holiday season in a small town.

Whether you grew up there and are visiting family or your usually reliable car somehow breaks down as soon as you cross the town border, you are stuck there for Christmas. The town is always covered in snow and decorated so well it rivals Whoville. There are no chain stores or apartment complexes. Everybody lives in log cabins or cottages, mostly heated by wood-fired stoves. Nobody watches television unless it is to watch Frosty the Snowman or other Christmas classics. The place to be in town is Main Street, a street filled with quaint boutiques and other shops, none of which employ more than three people.

The townsfolk actually care who the mayor and the sheriff are, and treat them with respect instead of as the goobers they are. The “everyone knows everyone” mentality is exaggerated to the extreme. They all either remember every one of your embarrassing moments from high school or you feel as though you have “out-of-towner” stamped across your forehead. Not only does everyone know everybody, but they also all know five o’clock shadow guy and each has a personal heartwarming story about how he saved their beloved dog from drowning in a frozen river or single-handedly saved them from an avalanche. But somehow, none of them have actually tried to date him.

You are Helen-of-Troy gorgeous and yet somehow single.

If you aren’t dating a capitalist drone who can’t seem to put his phone on silent or spend more than five minutes with you before rushing off for a call with the CEO of his company, you are inexplicably single, despite looking like Bella Hadid and Timothée Chalamet’s test tube baby. Not only could you find a way to look good in a burlap sack, but you are funny, endearing, and always say the right thing. And not the slightest bit neurotic. The fact that you are unattached seems perfectly normal to everyone in this quaint town but is a baffling mystery to any viewer.

Your town keeps throwing corny festivals.

Your small town throws almost daily over-the-top Gilmore Girls-style Christmas festivals. The whole town always attends, including the children who are never sarcastic and always enthusiastic to participate. The festivals range from lighting trees that look like they have been cut down from an old-growth forest to elaborate snowman building contests where everyone suddenly becomes the Michelangelo of snowmen.

Your family business is failing.

When you return to your small town for the holidays you learn that, against all odds, your family’s 100-year-old mercantile business, which basically sells barrels of oats to the townsfolk, is somehow failing. Your parents are old and you either have no siblings or they are completely unsuitable to take over the family business. You are the only one that can take on that burden and save the family business from being bought by Amazon and turned into a parking lot at the expense of your career and the life you have built for yourself in the city.

All the town elders are wise.

All the elderly people in your town are known to be incredibly wise. Nobody rolls their eyes at them or mocks them. They are always listened to and treated with respect. Nobody derisively says, “okay, Grandpa” to them. The old folks are always willing to listen to your problems for hours at a time and reframe the dilemma that has been eating at you for the last hour into an easily solvable problem that is probably resolved by listening to your heart or embracing the spirit of Christmas. By the time that last commercial break is over, you’ll know exactly what to do. When the town’s oldies aren’t acting as your unpaid therapist, they are hanging Christmas ornaments, adding logs to the fireplace in their cozy cabins, or putting tea on the fire. They never do anything else. They are almost never sick or showing any signs of old age besides vaguely commenting on how the cold affects their “old bones.” The only time their age is ever an issue is when they are insisting that you participate in some holiday activity because their arthritis is acting up or they are simply too old to do it on their own anymore.

You react to any misunderstanding by planning to skip town and join a nunnery.

Inevitably, you will overhear a conversation out of context that makes you believe wholeheartedly that five o’clock shadow guy, who has spent the whole movie fixing your fences and shoveling your driveway, is in love with someone else. The someone else in question is either a catty mean girl or someone who is so sweet and genuine that you are convinced they are an angel sent from heaven who you can never compete with. Instead of using your critical thinking skills or, I don’t know, asking, five o’clock shadow guy, your reaction is to throw all your stuff in your car and head for the nearest nunnery. But don’t worry! Before you manage to leave town, five o’clock shadow guy will find you and clear up the misunderstanding before kissing you while it snows atmospherically behind you.

Infeasible Business.

There is a business in town that is so financially infeasible that you have no idea how it stays open. It might be your business or might be your friend’s business where you hang out. It has been open for hundreds of years and is the crown jewel of the town. The business sells Christmas decorations year round or gourmet candy canes, or strange hot chocolate flavors that literally nobody asked for. The business is thriving. It will outlive you. It will probably outlive your children. You’re pretty sure it's immortal. But in real life, its annual revenue would be about five bucks.

You have one friend in town.

Your singular friend is passably cute, but nowhere near your league. After all, there can’t be any mistake about who will end up with five o’clock shadow guy. She might wear a baseball cap, with no logo whatsoever, to make her look less feminine. She is more social than you, however, and will drag you to some town event where you will meet five o’clock shadow guy or see him again. She knows everything about everybody. When you ask her about five o’clock shadow guy, she somehow knows his entire life story down to the middle name of his sister-in-law’s cousin and his social security number. When the big misunderstanding happens, she will play some role in resolving it by either telling you that five o’clock shadow guy is obviously in love with you or by telling him where to find you. She is an expert in shovel talk.

The children in town are “old souls” and eerily wise for their age.

Five o’clock shadow guy might have a kid, in which case he is widowed and not divorced. His child is smart to the point that you have to look twice to make sure it’s not Yoda playing the role of a kid. His child is shockingly well-adjusted for someone who was raised by an interpreter for sled dogs and woodpeckers. The child will play an essential role in getting you and five o’clock shadow guy together. If five o’clock shadow guy does not have a child, any kid you do encounter is similarly wise.

There are no teenagers.

You have no idea where they went or if they have ever been there, but there are none now. Everyone is either 8-12, 25-35, or 60+.

The magic of Christmas (and five o’clock shadow guy) saves the day.

Somehow, when all seems lost, the magic of Christmas manages to save the day. This can be literal magic like Santa and his elves interceding on your behalf like the Virgin Mary herself. Or it can mean the town coming together like the Whos at the end of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas to stand around a tree holding hands and singing Christmas carols. Five o’clock shadow guy rallied them, something that makes any doubts you had about him and his unusual career path disappear instantly. Your family business is saved, though no one quite understands how.

The ridiculously improbable misunderstanding an hour-and-a-half into the movie now resolved, you end up with five o’clock shadow guy. Though he lives in an unheated shed and drives a 1972 pickup truck, it turns out that he’s worth $750 million, or is the kidney donor you need to live, or saves your grandmother who fell down a well, or in some other way solves all of the problems you have ever had in your life.

Exceptions.

On the rare occasion that you are the one from the small town, then an attractive but arrogant big-shot from the big city will show up to buy a beloved business and turn it into a parking lot or a factory for killing puppies. The beloved business is probably your family business and also financially infeasible. Your reaction is to bake him cookies because you believe this will somehow sway him to sabotage his business deal so your color-me-mine-style gingerbread business can stay afloat. Your plan works and he quits his job because he has fallen in love with you and the beauty of small towns. And you adopt all of the puppies.

Rejected Instagram Ad For Sarah Lawrence Giving Day

by Hrannar Björnsson

Sarah Lawrence’s annual Giving Day is coming up, and the administration is so excited to accept all of your donations to the most expensive/poorest college in the world! To prepare for this glorious day, let’s hear from those who will benefit from your donations: real Sarah Lawrence students with real Sarah Lawrence experiences.

Trason Scalpel ‘21

“I love that students can develop their own unique conference projects at Sarah Lawrence. Sure, some are overly ambitious, but if you listen to students talk about their conference projects at length, you’ll find that they’re also poorly researched and uninteresting.”

Tarot Card ‘23

“The student art exhibits here are so special. People will get together in Heimbold to celebrate each other’s work, similar to how you celebrate a group photo by focusing on yourself in the picture and ignoring everyone else, judging the quality of the outcome entirely based on your own face.”

Meet N. Greet ‘21

“One time the president of Sarah Lawrence came to my dorm room and talked to me about my academic journey at SLC all day. And then when I told her I had some work to do, she wouldn’t leave. Instead, she chugged four hard seltzers, ate all my Cheez-Its, and then threw up on my roommate. We’re such a tight-knit community.”

Warbara Balters ‘21

“Before coming here, I was like: I’m going to act because I’m the next Carrie Fisher. But now, with some guidance from the professors here, I’ve learned to come to terms with my limitations as a performer and, consequently, have lowered my expectations in life to almost nothing. I really thought I wanted to be a famous actress, but now I’ve realized my dreams are nothing but naïve fantasies. It’s been a really fun experience.”

Leverett Napkin ‘22

“I’ve always known that dancing was my calling in life. But at Sarah Lawrence, I’m discovering things that I’m sort of passionate about, like storyboarding and projection design. And after I stopped dancing to focus on these more practical passions, I just could be happier, and I have regrets.”

Twenty Four ‘24

“Last year, we received a lot of donations, but one special gift stood out from the rest. So now, with immense excitement, it’s time to announce the construction of the 2025 Rahm Emanuel Campus Octagon! We’ll finally have the opportunity to explore our artistic and over-the-top personalities in a much-needed, communal fighting stadium.”

Quembus Menstrualcycle ‘25

“But our glorious, full-size UFC cage with a seating capacity of 25,000 and a state of the art press box, which will replace the Health & Wellness Center, presents us with a problem: how do we thank SLC alum and former Chicago mayor, Rahm Emanuel ‘81, for his generous donation?”

Squelf Theeatur ‘23

“This is no simple task because if there’s one thing we hold dear here at Sarah Lawrence, it’s that, with hard work, anything can become a venue to showcase our ridiculously theatrical way of being. And showing simple gratitude to a person that will never see this Instagram ad is no exception.”

SCRONIE #000703373 ‘22

“Sarah Lawrence students know that nothing is simple. Everything is complicated for some reason.”

Hrannar Björnsson ‘21

“At this point, we, the Sarah Lawrence students who won’t benefit from your donation because we’ll have already graduated, have but one recourse: thank you, Rahm.”

*Disclaimer: This article was published under the Ashtray, the satire and humor section of the Phoenix. Please don’t take it seriously.

50 Things to do during Quarantine

Zoe Stanton-Savitz ’23

Photo by Zoe Stanton-Savitz “An evil puppet I made named Bielzebuddy”

The world has shut down, leaving many students grappling with intense boredom and struggling to maintain their sanity. Every day seems to blend together into a stream of mundane Zoom calls and perpetual procrastination –– anything but homework. Never fear, though. Whether you are on campus, in an apartment with friends, or stuck back in your parents house, The Phoenix offers a list of 50 entertaining activities to try while in isolation or quarantine. 

The Irishman, screenshot courtesy of Netflix

Photo by Zoe Stanton-Savitz

1. Count your ceiling tiles. (Don’t have ceiling tiles? Try your bathroom tiles. Or hallway. Or kitchen.)

2. Separate a family-sized bag of Skittles or MnMs by color.

3. Drop an anvil on your foot.

4. Learn how to do an Irish river dance. 

5. Drink some Fireball.

6. Text all your exes. If you run out of exes, schools you were accepted to but ended up not attending count too. 

7. Watch The Irishman.

8. Look at pictures of baby quokkas.

9. Watch every Tom Hanks movie in alphabetical order.

10. Bang your head against a wall.

11. Memorize the periodic table.

12. Shave your eyebrows off.

13. Direct Message celebrities your innermost thoughts and deepest darkest secrets.

14. Memorize the entirety of cinematic classic The Bee Movie. 

15. Punch a Karen in the face (not your mom though).

16. Cry.

17. Organize a box of 64 Crayola crayons by preference. (Do you prefer green-blue or blue-green?)

18. Have a séance. Summon some spirits.

19. Make the perfect grilled cheese sandwich.

20. Find a tiny tree frog and make them your friend. 

21. Make tiny outfits for your tiny tree frog friend.

22. Marie Kondo your wardrobe.

23. Read War and Peace. 

24. Watch every episode of The Simpsons.

25. Stare into middle distance.

26. Take a bath with socks on.

27. Listen to Murder Most Foul, Bob Dylan’s 17 minute song.

28. Glue your hands together with super glue.

29. Tape your feet together with duct tape.

30. Plan an elaborate heist.

31. Sell feet pics. 

32. Play Just Dance. 

33. Watch Vine compilations and mourn the app’s death.

34. Learn Klingon.

35. Overthrow the government.

36. Invent a new color.

37. Switch bodies with your mother on a Friday and see things from her perspective.

38. Find Bigfoot.

39. Learn how to drive a stick shift.

40. Eat quinoa and wonder what all the fuss is about.

41. Chug a gallon of milk

42. Hug a tree.

43. Gaze wistfully out of a window.

44. Wait in line at the DMV.

45. Learn the difference between affect and effect.

46. Watch the entirety of a three-hour ambience Youtube video (Example here).

47. Shake fist at God.

48. Make a puppet.

49. Have an ideological debate with Siri.

50. Read The Phoenix!

Which SLC Horse Are You?

Credit: Sarah Santos ‘23

Introducing Sarah Lawrence’s First Frat House: Alpha Sigma Barb

Photo Credit: Wavebreakmedia/Shutterstock, Barbara Walters

Barbara Walters has been generously funding Sarah Lawrence’s much-needed building updates for years, first with the Barbara Walters Gallery, and then with the Barbara Walters Campus Center. Sarah Lawrence is now closer than ever to looking like a real college. We have art and big buildings with tall ceilings; heck, we’re practically a state school! But it’s clear we’re not done yet. There has been a LOT of unrest regarding the lack of housing on campus.

Don’t worry, Barbara’s on it. She looked around and asked herself “what do most colleges have that Sarah Lawrence doesn’t? Housing, duh, but we’re missing a special kind of housing.” So, coming to you this spring: Sarah Lawrence’s first fraternity, Alpha Sigma Barb! 

Alpha Sigma Barb will have all the features of a regular college frat house, but with that special Sarah Lawrence flair. Get ready for the most expensive boat shoes from Urban Outfitters, polo shirts with ironically popped collars, and beer kegs filled with cocaine! 

Remember chubbies? The shorts that frat guys at those other schools have? Well, don’t worry, SLC’s Alpha Sigma Barb will have an alternative –– just being naked all the time! Take advantage of SLC’s clothing-optional campus in style.

Of course, there’s gonna be some serious Sarah Lawrence ragers at Alpha Sigma Barb. That’s right, it’s just people getting drunk and writing sad poetry. Come and cry to Mitski together! Be sure to make it before the clock strikes 11:30, though; that’s when everyone goes to sleep. 

I know what you’re thinking: what about hazing? Barb’s got you covered! Alpha Sigma Barb pledges have to wear a beanie so tight that they can’t take it off! But wait! There’s more! New recruits are forced to listen to My Bloody Valentine and Godspeed You! Black Emperor until they like it! Pretty sick stuff, huh? 

All your favorite Sarah Lawrence students will be pledging to Alpha Sigma Barb: the guy who skateboards in front of your open window at 2 am on a Tuesday, the girl who calls herself a filmmaker even though she’s never even made a movie, and, of course, Pub Guy! Yeah, that’s right, Pub Guy is back and he’s just gonna be yelling numbers out of the Alpha Sigma Barb window! 

Sure, the Barbara Walters Campus Center may have Barbara’s Emmys, but we are incredibly excited to announce that Barbara has promised to make the Alpha Sigma Barb lawn her eternal resting place! When the time comes, head on down to Alpha Sigma Barb, crack open an ice-cold bottle of cocaine, and kick back with Barbara Walters’ dead body! 

Alpha Sigma Barb: It’s Like The Hyatt, But Worse!

Ann Nelson, ‘21

*Disclaimer: This article was published under the Ashtray, the satire and humor section of the Phoenix. Please don’t take it seriously.