Alexandra Brodsky, the anti-rape culture activist honored in this year’s edition of the Forward 50, has been garnering national attention with a recent study on a “rape-adjacent” practice known as “stealthing.”
In a Guardian profile of “Transparent” creator and “I Love Dick” series co-creator Jill Soloway, Hadley Freeman writes that Soloway “now identifies as a gender non-conforming queer person, who prefers to be referenced with gender-neutral pronouns (they/them/their).” The article accompanying Soloway’s (fascinating) recent Fresh Air interview states that Soloway “identifies as genderqueer”; in interviews, Soloway also uses the terms non-binary and trans. Soloway, 51, is very much in the public eye, and like any coming-out, this takes courage.
Your wedding day is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. At least, that’s the narrative society often instills in young women. The shoes, dress, and decorations need to be Pinterest perfect. But how often do we discuss what happens after the wedding? The value of a healthy relationship gets lost in the color scheme.
Jessica Schiffer reports on a corner of the internet I know better than I’d like to admit: French-girl-chic e-commerce. While I don’t actually buy these clothes, I’m keenly aware of their existence, and of the cool Instagram pages of the cool French women behind some of them. (Did I realize one of them, Alexia Elkaim, is from a prominent French-Jewish Azria fashion family? Not until Googling just now!) A source tells Schiffer, “emails and editorial articles on ‘how to get the French girl look’ consistently sell product [more than others],” which… of course they do. To look French is to look like you’re not trying to look flawless, and yet there you are — in a café in the upper Marais, for example — looking flawless. The goal of effortless perfection is both appealing and — the moment you step back and think about it — incredibly frustrating.
My insufferable paternal grandmother once banned ketchup from her house because she thought it beneath her family (and didn’t like the taste); I believe this to be one of the many reasons my otherwise erudite father and his offspring love smothering things in this “low class” condiment. A recent Slate piece by Christina Cauterucci, just as ridiculously snobbish, also leaves me reaching for the Heinz.