Comment: It is hypocritical to advocate a safe space whilst wearing Soviet symbols

Using Soviet symbolism to display Socialist beliefs is an abuse of Western European privilege, discounting the distressing experiences of Eastern European people under Soviet rule in an either ignorant, or simply quite arrogant, fashion. 

Student life and Socialist inclinations go together fairly well. At universities all over the UK, there are Socialist societies, events and publications, as well as plenty of opinions on the topic; some moderate, some rather radical. This is a good thing; debate is crucial for a healthy academic environment. Yet, some ‘comrades’ like to take it a step further, as using Soviet symbolism appears to also be en vogue, whether it is the casual red star pinned to a bag or jacket, or the more controversial hammer and sickle. A pure history lesson doesn’t seem to convince that this is neither tasteful, nor is it appropriate. So maybe a slightly different approach will at least lead to even just a few re-evaluations of fashion choice; in the least superficial way possible.

It’s no secret that Socialism and feminist activism also appear to go together quite well. It was on feminist websites where trigger warnings first appeared. Trigger warnings are an important tool for feminism and safe spaces in general; they can ensure that those with a past they would rather not be reminded of don’t have to accidentally remember nor relive any traumatic experiences. The point remains that, if for you, Socialism and feminism go hand in hand, and if you are convinced that you subscribe to a belief system which respects people as ends in themselves, and aims to supports those in need, then there is simply no justification for using Soviet imagery. This is not to say that Soviet symbols should come with a trigger warning, but if worn by someone who agrees with the general idea behind trigger warnings, then their use is highly hypocritical.

Communism in Eastern Europe involved a lot of suffering rather than egalitarian fun; the rationing of food, gas and electricity are but a few examples. In Romania, both contraception and abortion were strictly forbidden under the Communist regime. One important idea behind trigger warnings is that all emotions are valid. One could certainly choose to start explaining why all of this has, actually, nothing to do with the Soviet symbols themselves, which are simply convenient to use – or just choose to accept that casual usage of oppressive symbols is not a particularly sensitive thing to do.

This is not about criticising anyone’s right to indulge in Marxist philosophy, or even aspirations towards a Socialist utopia. The hammer and sickle, however, while merely a hip accessory to the fashion-conscious leftist, is a symbol of pain for many people who had to endure a Soviet regime and should never be treated as harmless fun. It’s not that one shouldn’t be allowed to use Soviet symbolism; everyone should have the choice.  It’s rather that one should choose not to; if not out of common sense, then at least to avoid the hypocritical act of advocating trigger warnings whilst proudly wearing symbols for oppression.

To be taken more seriously, therefore, student Socialism might want to check its Western European privilege before sticking a Red Star to a MacbookPro.

Originally written for The Student. 

Natalya Lobanova - Happy 2 B Sad

Natalya Lobanova describes her work as “mostly doodles on pastel paper”, and while that is without doubt very accurate, there is a little more to it. Born in Kazakhstan, she grew up in London and moved to Edinburgh in 2011 to study Philosophy and Politics. Lobanova draws - she draws everyday situations, she doodles imaginary scenarios and illustrates thoughts, and she is excellent at what she does. It didn’t take the blogosphere long to catch wind of her artwork once Lobanova began posting her art online. She then started her art project, the blog happy 2 b sad, in 2011; a collection of her work, it features mostly pen on characteristically pink paper.

Before coming to Edinburgh, Lobanova did an art foundation at Central Saint Martins in London, specialising in painting. Are there certain advantages to being an artist who does not study art anymore? “A degree in art essentially buys you the time to do nothing but art, which is actually a huge privilege and amazing thing to do”, she says. ”It also buys you the opportunity to surround yourself with amazing, creative people. But in my experience, it can also be a bubble and you forget that the outside world exists. On a personal level, I think it was very good for me to attend an academic University and be a little outside of my comfort zone and study things that I don't feel I naturally excel at.” Lobanova adds: “Also, I don’t have to deal with crits or having to explain why I chose pink paper to do my drawings on. It was the only paper I had at the time, okay?” 

Yet, balancing art and academia can be challenging at times: “I'm really lucky to have been able to keep the ball rolling whilst doing this degree because even when you find the time to make art formally, once you're out of the habit it just sort of slips out of your life, even if you're a naturally creative person. Your creative energy is used up in different ways.” Has her degree in Philosophy and Politics influenced her art? “I don't feel that it's explicitly influenced my art”, Lobanova says, “I don't actively try and keep my degree and my artwork separate but I wouldn't want my work to have too many inaccessible obscure academic themes. I don't want to alienate people.” Her work is witty, it is pretty, and it does not pretend to be something it’s not – it is easily accessible; it’s user-friendly, and proudly so. And whether she lives in London or Edinburgh, “every place is a good place to make art”, Lobanova says.

Lobanova’s first exhibition, a solo-exhibition, took place at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, US, last fall. Her second exhibition just started in Tampico, Mexico, sending happy 2 b sad on a physical journey around the globe following the virtual one. Does she have any concrete plans for where she would like the future to take her? “You can't really plan an artistic career, you just do all you can and hope for the best. I've been really lucky. My plan is to just do as much as I can”, Lobanova says.

Talking about the creative process, she explains: “Sometimes I crawl out of bed in the middle of the night to jot something down and other times I just sit down and decide to make some art. I wouldn't say either process is better than the other, I just do whatever”, and she adds, “That’s a technical term”. Introspection or interaction, which inspires her most? “I think my drawings are the wittiest fragments of my inner monologue, so I suppose it's both”, Lobanova explains.

The Internet has undoubtedly played a big part for her art – how does she see its role in the art world? Lobanova says, “I think it's amazing because in some ways it's socialised the art industry - you don't necessarily need to know anyone to enter it and to gain momentum. It's made it more accessible. I think if it were not for the Internet, I would feel entirely disassociated with the art world”. Yet, at the same time, “this constant source of information and stream of images and super quick moving 'trends' in art can distract people from making artwork that it genuine to themselves”.

Does she have any advice for anyone who would like to express themselves visually, but who has never experimented with art before? “You have nothing to lose by trying”, Lobanova says. “If you do it and it's rubbish then no one needs to see it”, and she adds: “Or maybe you're just really ahead of your time and your work will be rediscovered posthumously and that will be your legacy.”

Find Natalya's work at happy2bsad.com.

Originally written for The Student.

Humans of Edinburgh - One Story at a Time

I see a lot of young men these days are growing beards,

So I would like to declare that I've worn mine for years,

I used to shave it now and then to ward off paedophile fears...

But now i keep it nice and long to spare my wife from tears.

Ollie Buchanan's favourite thing about Humans of Edinburgh is definitely “speaking to strangers with a reason for doing so. It's something that you never have the chance to do without something like this”, he says, calling it “an honour to get an insight into people's lives through a photo and a quote”. And luckily, Humans of Edinburgh, the street photography project started by Buchanan and his friend and business partner Zishan Ashraf in January 2014, extends the honour of experiencing Edinburgh's streets 'one story at a time' to everyone eager to connect through social media. In short, Ashraf and Buchanan approach strangers on the streets of Edinburgh, and later choose a picture and an accompanying quote to share with a constantly growing fan base. Buchanan takes the pictures and picks quotes, and Ashraf is responsible for sharing and promoting the work on Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr. Buchanan admits, “I don't think my photography alone would be on nearly half as many likes without his skills in facebook marketing”- after all, know-how is key in the age of social media.

Having grown up together on the outskirts of Edinburgh, Buchanan, a student of English at Stirling University, and Ashraf, who runs the online delivery service IamHungover, have known each other since school. The project, inspired by Humans of New York, was initially started as a side project, but it certainly looks like it is here to stay. Whilst browsing street photography from all over the world is entertaining, it's just that little bit different when you recognise the streets and corners from your way to class or work, and the stories you read are those of people whose paths you might well have crossed before without knowing. Buchanan himself has a similar explanation for the unexpected success of Humans of Edinburgh. “People seem to have lost the attitude regarding art where posh, expensive looking things are attractive. Nowadays, I think people's primary reason for looking at art is to see something relatable”, he says; and quite clearly, people from Edinburgh do relate.

Ashraf and Buchanan offer a compelling contrast between busy street life and just taking a minute to stop and listen; between the anonymity of a capital city and intimate thoughts shared with a total stranger, and thousands more online. Buchanan explains, “It's a very personal process – sometimes, I feel like I'm delving too deep with questions I ask, but then I'm surprised and reassured by how open the person is in responding. I think there's something therapeutic in sharing something personal with a stranger”. Ashraf has just bought a new camera too, but until they will be able to split the photography, Buchanan is “more than happy” doing the photos by himself. Buchanan, a self-taught photographer, credits one of his teachers from school for sparking his passion for photography. “I will always remember him”, he says, “I don't think I'd love photography as much as I do had he not started me out.” He still has the camera his teacher convinced him to buy many years ago; it's the very camera he uses to capture the Humans of Edinburgh on film. Does he encounter difficulties when approaching people for their picture? “A lot of people said no to having their photos taken first, but once the project grew, people now generally know about it and are happy to be featured”. Unsurprisingly, “some people are often very reserved in their quotes”, but luckily, from art school students who can't come up with anything pretentious to say, non-couples, accidental pug-owners and even the occasional tram fan, it's the everyday aspect that makes Humans of Edinburgh so special. The project manages to put the human back in Edinburgh, a city with such breathtakingly beautiful scenery that it is easy to forget that it is populated by actual human beings with real stories to share.

One thing Buchanan would rather not reveal are his favourite photo locations in Edinburgh: “I have a few favourite spots to shoot in, but I like them being secret”. But he'll gladly tell us his favourite thing about Edinburgh, “Palymra, the Shawarma restaurant. It's really, really perfect”, and share a tip for budding portrait photographers: “Practicing portrait photography on people you're comfortable being around is the key to being good at it. Once you master it, it's like taking the same photo every time, except with different people.” The same photo, but with different people – that's Humans of Edinburgh in a nutshell for you. Follow their journey through everyone's favourite Gothic Capital city on Facebook, tumblr or Twitter.

Written for The Student, the UK's oldest student newspaper. 

The Presentation of Self on Tinder

As a Sociology student, I'm very interested in everything new and shiny that everyone else seems to be doing, so naturally, I was fairly curious when I heard about Tinder. You can excuse a lot of things if you're studying Sociology, it's brilliant – people watching at parties is probably my favourite out of all these and excellent to make me feel amazing about my introverted nature, but downloading a mobile dating app based on society's tendency to judge a book by its (selfie) cover is pretty good too. The Presentation of Self in Everyday 3G, if you know what I mean. Goffman applied to virtual realities is pretty much a hit.

If you don't know what Tinder is, this is what you certainly don't need to, but might want to know: Connecting to your Facebook account and tracking your location, the app will present you with eligible bachelors and potential best friends in your area, and you can then choose to gift them with a like (swipe their picture to the right) or ignore the poor souls (swipe to the left). You better double check this information though, it might well be the other way around. Tinder will only notify you if you are a mutual match though, so no hard feelings and sleepless nights crying over strangers with an iPhone who didn't like you back. You can then get in touch, arrange a meeting, and live happily ever after. In order to convince others of your dateability, you can select a few pictures (this is an art in itself), write a few sentences about yourself, and potential matches will also see any Facebook interests that you two share. This last point might be crucial (spoiler alert: it's not).

The first time I downloaded Tinder, I was studying for my last exam and under the impression that I had already watched every single bit of quality television out there. While this was obviously not true and I discovered both House of Cards and Masters of Sex soon after, it seemed like a compelling and powerful argument at that time - or at least a valid excuse. I was on Tinder for about two minutes. Then I stumbled upon one of the trainers at my gym, panicked (but thankfully not enough to swipe to the right), and deleted my account.

I didn't delete the app though, and signed in again a few weeks later to show it to a friend from home. This time, I chose to do everything by the book. Apparently, the perfect selection of pictures will prove that you possess the following qualities and are thus very datable: You're obviously good-looking (duh), you love working out (extra credits if it's outdoors, both skiing and surfing are said to work quite well), and you love to party and just generally have a good time. Aiming to show my true self to every male Tinder user between 23 and 30 within a radius of 20 miles, I chose a profile picture which would reveal my deep passion for arts and crafts and social theory. I also added my most recent Facebook profile picture to my little picture collection which everyone brave enough to face the intellectual sass and click on my Tinder profile could then take a look at. This is my personal recipe for success:

I don't think I've composed a short description of myself, simply because I don't think anyone needs to know anything that my pictures fail to convey – show, don't tell, has always been my motto. So far, I have acquired something along the lines of seven mutual likes. I am very pleased with that number, considering I have a self-made card as my profile picture and like approximately one in forty people – mainly those without crazy party pictures showing them living it up (ain't nobody got time for that), but preferably those with puppies in their pictures so we can become great friends and go for walks around Arthur's Seat discussing the futility of Tinder.

These seven matches also may or may not include one accidental match. I feel very bad about that and hope that someone has also accidentally liked me, to balance out the negative karma. He messaged me too, but I have been too horrified to open the message so far. Now, every time I log onto Tinder, it tells me that I have a new message – both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. One of my other matches actually got in touch too, wondering if he was right to assume that I was not from Scotland. Fair enough, I thought, I would respond to this enquiry truthfully. Unfortunately, the next question was whether I “had done anything fun lately”. I'm not entirely sure what he is expecting. I don't think I will reply to that anytime soon.

To wrap up these musings, here is a list of my five favourite Tinder picture prototypes: 1. The one where he is doing something crazy on a night out, having a blast. 2. The one where you can't tell which one out of the twenty guys in the group picture he is (Hint: Probably not the one you are hoping for). 3. The one where he is posing inbetween two ladies, potentially also on a night out (Such a catch!) 4. The one where he is taking a topless mirror selfie (sounds too good to be true, but it is very much reality), and last but not least, 5. The pensive look out of the window into nature, and potentially your soul.

To end on a positive note, I will probably like your profile if you can pull off a kilt and lack picture prototype 1 to 5. If there is such a thing as Tinder law, this is it. But to be honest, it is probably time to end this fun social experiment anyways.