Fashion Parlor

Since having Augustine two years ago, my travels have slowed down a lot. But that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my itch to travel far and wide! Luckily I have some amazing friends who live in really awesome places. Welcome to “My Perfect Day.” A new series in which I ask my blogging friends to share their perfect day in the city they live in. First up? Grace Atwood of The Stripe from Brooklyn, New York. I’ve been a fan of Grace’s blog for so long and she’s just as sweet in person. I think you will be obsessed with her feminine and classic style! As I’m heading to NYC this month, this post could not come at a better time!

Hi! I’m Grace Atwood and I write The Stripe. I am so honored that Mara asked me to share my perfect day – what a fun exercise! A little about me: I live in Williamsburg, Brooklyn; I’m a total bookworm, and I’m obsessed with skincare, stripes (hence the blog name), pretty dresses, and yoga.

My perfect day would start with yoga. I try to go five times a week. It’s the first form of exercise that doesn’t feel like a chore to me – it’s something I look forward to every day – it makes me happier, healthier, and more balanced. So I would wake up and take an 8:30am class down the street at Sky Ting in Williamsburg. Sky Ting is my favorite yoga studio; the teachers are so knowledgeable and it’s a great workout.

I would get home, shower, and this sounds silly but I would get back into bed. This is to me, the most indulgent thing. A good workout, getting clean, and then making myself a big mug of coffee and a good book. Usually I’d have yogurt with fruit and granola but since this is a perfect day and calories don’t count + you don’t get stomach aches, I’m eating a giant everything bagel from Murray’s, topped with lox cream cheese and a slice of tomato. YUM. I’ll read for about an hour and maybe take a (teensy) nap). Like I mentioned in my intro, I am a big bookworm and thrillers are my favorite. Anything that’s a knockoff of Gone Girl and I’m hooked, basically. (I have all my book recommendations on my site and a podcast about self-care and books, too!)

Okay so now it’s about 11:30/12. I’ll get ready for the day and get dressed. It’s my perfect day so it’s not humid or hot – it’s that perfect New York weather where you just need a light jacket. I had that bagel so maybe I’m not hungry yet, but if I am I’ll meet a girlfriend for lunch at The Butcher’s Daughter which is one of my favorite spots. There are a couple in the city but we just got one in Williamsburg which makes me the happiest!

Then I’ll grab an iced coffee (my favorite is from Devocion), and head into the city! I take the subway and I bring my book with me.

My first stop is The Whitney, which is my favorite museum in the city – I love that it’s downtown, and they have an amazing collection of American art. The patio is a great place to have a glass of wine.

Then it’s back onto the subway (or since it’s my perfect day maybe I can teleport?) and up to Central Park! There is no better place to walk than Central Park. I take a long walk and end up at my other favorite museum – The Met. I spend the rest of the afternoon wandering and then head home to get ready real quick.

Then it’s back into the city for dinner at The Polo Bar – my favorite special occasion restaurant. It’s so special and old school. After dinner, we head to The Carlyle for drinks at Bemelman’s Bar. Bemelman’s is so old school and fun. There’s always live music and you feel like you’re transported back in time.

I’m home by midnight (I love my sleep) and curled up in bed with a book and my cat Tyrion. And maybe an overnight face mask.

I hope you liked the first installation of my new travel series! Make sure to stop by The Stripe and say hi to Grace! Are there any locations or bloggers you’d like to see next?? Let me know in the comments!

xox

photos by The Stripe

We're up all night to get spooky.

Michael Jackson, "Thriller"

Thom Yorke, "Suspirium"

The Clovers, "Love Potion No. 9"

Fifth Harmony, "I'm In Love With a Monster"

Dead Man’s Bones, “Buried in Water”

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WEEK OF November 5 - 11, 2018

Take a breather, Sagittarius, and make room in your schedule for creativity and celebration. Oh, and self-care, too. You’re long overdue. This Tuesday, November 6, spontaneous Uranus moves back from industrious Taurus into Aries and your fifth house of romance, fame and self-expression. Ever since the side-spinning planet moved into the Bull’s pen this past May 15, you’ve had your nose fixed to the grindstone. At the same time, your workflow may have been chaotic and unpredictable, making you feel a bit more stressed than usual. So you’ll probably be relieved by this final four-month circuit of Uranus in Aries—an epilogue to a cycle that partied on from March 11, 2011 to May 15, 2018—and the chance it offers you to reconnect to your inner wild child. Capture this spirit for posterity…and your sanity! When Uranus moves back into Taurus from March 6, 2019 to April 2025, you want to make sure you don’t lose it ever again. After all, what’s the point of working so hard if you can’t also play along the way? If you’ve been refining the “Sagittarius brand,” these next four months are a stellar time to work on the image you’re putting out into the world. Solicit feedback from respected industry insiders, whether friends or pros you hire; it’ll be worth the investment. If you make art or media, how can you bring it to the public—or make an even bigger splash? Grassroots Uranus might even point you towards group shows, local talent nights or brainstorming with community business people to see how you might promote each other with an event. Warning: You may butt up against some strong, defiant personalities while Uranus is retrograde until January 6. That could be the universe giving you a cue to withdraw and recharge your creative batteries with some quality time on your own. It’s only in solitude that you can truly tune in to your own authentic voice.

Wednesday’s new moon in Scorpio sounds the call for boundaries. Have you made too many sacrifices? Are you feeling burnt out? With this lunation activating your twelfth house of healing and transitions, you may come to the unavoidable realization that it’s time to move on from a certain aspect of your life. At the very least, a situation needs to be “right sized” so that it works for YOU. Of course, we teach people how to treat us, Archer. If you aren’t willing to give up some of that stubborn “I’ll do it my way” independence, how will people ever be able to support you? Perhaps the best thing this new moon can offer is a nudge to surrender and let the chips fall where they may. You’ll be amazed by how many miracles show up when you allow things to get a little messy and let the universe have a say.

It’s gonna be all Sagittarius, all the time, starting Thursday, November 8, when the celestial highlight of the decade comes beaming your way! Your ruling planet, expansive, auspicious and all-around happy-making Jupiter launches into Sagittarius for the next 13 months, rocketing you into orbit. With the red-spotted planet spending the last year-plus in Scorpio and your introspective twelfth house, you may have confronted some buried emotions, processed a painful loss, or discovered through a stressful situation where it was time to put up some serious boundaries. Exhausting, to say the least! But take heart: The lucky, larger-than-life planet returns to your sign for the first time since its December 2007-January 2009 cycle. Starting this week, you are officially on notice that dreams can no longer be deferred, and anything and everything you’ve been hoping to accomplish in your life is now on the table. Personal growth? Bucket-list travel experiences? Fame and fortune? Bring it! This rare transit is not something you want to ignore. Between now and December 2, 2019, you are invited—make that required—to shake up your life, shuck off any limitations or self-doubt and start taking steps toward becoming the person you want to be and creating the life you crave. Bear in mind that Jupiter offers the possibility and holds the door open, but you’ve got to do the heavy lifting, Sagittarius—and also take the gamble to walk through that portal when the gifts arrive instead of endlessly (and suspiciously) deliberating. While Jupiter transits certainly bring chances and connections and inspiration, you need to face your fears, take some risks and put yourself out there. Artists, musicians and performers should literally take the stage and show the world your stuff. Writers: Pick up that metaphoric pen and scribe away. No matter what your craft or superpower, this is the year to own it and pursue your bliss. No more shape-shifting or making too many sacrifices for other people. There’s a new Sagittarius in town—and possibly several other ports of call that you’ve been dying to visit (or live in for a month here and there). Unleash your nomadic nature and give your passions top billing. Jupiter’s energy is generous, though, so even as you’re advancing your own mission, you’ll realize it’s not a zero-sum game and that the more you help and give to others—not out of a sense of obligation but love—the more you gain in return.

See All Signs

I have said it before and I’ll say it again, I LOVE THE BEAUTYBLENDER! The beautyblender has been my favorite and most preferred method of foundation application for more years than I can count. While there are some foundations I enjoy using a brush with I tend to prefer the beautyblender over brushes for application the majority of the time. And it goes beyond just preferring a sponge for my foundation application. I prefer the beautyblender over every other kind of sponge out there on the market. There are a lot of dupes on the market but I have never found one that lives up to the original beautyblender sponge. As far as I’m concerned, I’d rather just repurchase the beautyblender time and time again rather than wasting money on more affordable options that never live up to my standards. Or having to invest in 6 duds before I come up with one decent substitute. It applies and blends you foundation, concealer, and other cream and liquid products effortlessly. It takes all the work out of makeup application and leaves you with a flawless result every time. The beautyblender is what I use for my personal foundation, and it’s what I carry exclusively in my kit for my clients. I buy the black pro beautyblenders in bulk.

I always get excited when beautyblender launches something new so I was delighted to see the new beautyblender Sapphire ($20 USD). It is the same beautyblender we know and love but in an absolutely STUNNING cobalt blue shade. LOVE! This is a Limited Edition shade so grab one while you can!

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Thank you for sponsoring this post, Rothy’s.

It’s bittersweet to think there are only 32 days of summer left, but as the seasons change, so does the what we wear. The color palette that comes with fall is my favorite — think rich tones like burgundy and mustard and (my go-tos) moody neutrals like grey and navy. These mink- colored flats are the perfect hue to transition from summer to fall in. In June, I featured the Rothy’s Brights Collection wearing The Point — a classic shoe that will always be in style. Walkable, lightweight, and it comes in 6 new colors for fall.  

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We are big fans of reading books (or at least browsing through the pictures!) here at our house, and I love giving books to family and friends who have kids as well. One problem with buying books, though, is that you aren’t always sure if they already have a certain book or not and unless you ask (and ruin the surprise a bit) it’s hard to know you aren’t supplying them with a double of something in their library. On that note, we rounded up 20 books that we love that are a little less widely known than a “Cat In The Hat” level classic and they are perfect for gifting or adding to your own kiddo library.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20

Some of these older treasures can only be found on the used book market as they are older and out of print (like one of my top favorites, Rabbit’s New Rug) and others are new gems like Nova’s favorite Triangle book. I get such a kick out of the quirky nature of George and Martha books and Lola’s been obsessed with Scuffy the Tugboat for a while now (we even made up a little song about him that we sing when we open the book). Hope these treasures make their way into your gift bag or personal library soon! xo. Laura

Kevin Hart announced on Twitter that he has withdrawn from his role as the host of the 91st Academy Awards (aka the 2019 Oscars) after some old tweets revealed he has a history of using homophobic language. That decision came after Hart posted an Instagram video where he said everything but sorry in response to the outrage.

“My team calls me, ‘Oh my God, Kevin, everyone’s upset by tweets you did years ago,'” said Hart. “Guys, I’m nearly 40 years old. If you don’t believe that people change, grow, evolve as they get older, I don’t know what to tell you. If you want to hold people in a position where they always have to justify the past, do you.”

His kicker: another Instagram video where he doubles down on the non-apology in response to the Academy asking for one to keep his hosting gig. Kevin Hart doesn’t think he owes us an apology.

And sure, he has responded to questions about his homophobic jokes not just on Twitter, but in his stand-up comedy before. In 2015, he told Rolling Stone that a 2010 joke he used to do about preventing his son from being gay is not one he’d do anymore because “the times weren’t as sensitive as they are now.”

Then, as now, his response rings hollow because his concern is with other people’s sensitivity, not his own words. Apologies should assume a recognition of why you’re having to apologize and a reflection on the harm you may have caused. Making it clear that you’re apologizing because people were offended — and not because you said or did something offensive — reeks of obligation and concession, not understanding and empathy.

Is is possible to make an apology for a homophobic past about owning up to your own mistakes? I had to find out for myself, so here’s mine.

My first run-in with the word that appeared in so many of Hart’s tweets was in the second or third grade. A boy on the playground asked me if I was trying to be a girl because my nails were so long. He called me a faggot.

Then, some time in the fifth grade, I remember a boy on the school bus asking me why I tried to make people stop using “gay” as an insult. Maybe he was looking for a connection, but all I felt was fear. The implication of his question — that defending gay people was unusual and suspicious — wasn’t lost on me.

That fear was realized when I was in the eighth grade, staring down the end of middle school as I prepared for a promised land where all the ninth graders pledged that everyone was cool with each other: high school. It must’ve been a school night when the calls started coming in. It was people from school — people I barely spoke to — calling to ask if it was true that I liked boys.

A seventh grader who didn’t take kindly to me breaking up with her had decided to burn her bridge to me by telling everyone in her cell phone’s address book that I had confessed to thinking boys were cute. I was shocked because I had never come out her, but to a friend of hers who accidentally admitted his attraction to men to me in a message sent to the wrong screen name. He’d told her, thinking perhaps that my girlfriend ought to know.

I was honest with the people calling me on the phone that night and asking me about it for years after. I told them I was bisexual. And the reactions were mixed degrees inspired by ignorance. One girl made me promise not to go “full gay.” There were people in our village of about 1,000 who didn’t say anything. Silence quickly became a best-case scenario as people turned that F word on me.

I was bullied, threatened, harassed, and had to talk my way out of a couple of ass-kickings. Eventually, I realized the only way out of the terrible situation was to go back into the closet. So, when I wasn’t loudly announcing in the cafeteria that I no longer thought boys were cute, I joined with my friends in using that F word casually, mercilessly, and frequently to demean, belittle, and mock each other. Calling each other that F word was a way to enforce masculinity on our friend group and discourage anything considered a violation of that.

For me, it was also a way to project my denial: How could I be a faggot if I used it as an insult? The short answer was that I hated myself. The long answer — that I’m a transgender woman and yes, maybe a bit of a fag — was much harder to find. It’s only now, as I find myself tempted to join the effort to reclaim that F word, that I feel its power draining. I mouth it to myself at night in bed just to feel it again and try to process all the pain behind the act of saying it, try to feel something positive about it.

I am sorry for all the things I said. I will never stop apologizing for the way I used that F word. Even if it was a defense mechanism, I may never know the pain I caused others, even as pain was caused to me.

If Hart was right, that would be where it would end for me — trying to figure out how to process an adolescent pain that feels practically ancient at age 27. But during a trip to San Francisco earlier this year, I visited the spot of the 1966 Compton’s Cafeteria riots, where a bunch of drag queens started fighting with the cops who so often arrested them for violating the city’s laws against cross-dressing. As I was walking back to my hotel from the spot, a man yelled at me as I passed, “Hey, faggot!”

I wanted to embody the spirit of the queens who fought the cops, to throw a brick his way or a cup of coffee in his face. I wanted to mock him in return, to deliver the most withering takedown of his entire existence he had ever heard.

But instead, a panic gripped me and I fled, walking as fast as I could without running to a park, where I found a quiet spot to cry. Hart seems to believe the world is more sensitive these days. But I’m as sensitive as ever.

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Want more from Teen Vogue? Check this out: Transgender People Share Their Passport Application Difficulties

Kevin Hart announced on Twitter that he has withdrawn from his role as the host of the 91st Academy Awards (aka the 2019 Oscars) after some old tweets revealed he has a history of using homophobic language. That decision came after Hart posted an Instagram video where he said everything but sorry in response to the outrage.

“My team calls me, ‘Oh my God, Kevin, everyone’s upset by tweets you did years ago,'” said Hart. “Guys, I’m nearly 40 years old. If you don’t believe that people change, grow, evolve as they get older, I don’t know what to tell you. If you want to hold people in a position where they always have to justify the past, do you.”

His kicker: another Instagram video where he doubles down on the non-apology in response to the Academy asking for one to keep his hosting gig. Kevin Hart doesn’t think he owes us an apology.

And sure, he has responded to questions about his homophobic jokes not just on Twitter, but in his stand-up comedy before. In 2015, he told Rolling Stone that a 2010 joke he used to do about preventing his son from being gay is not one he’d do anymore because “the times weren’t as sensitive as they are now.”

Then, as now, his response rings hollow because his concern is with other people’s sensitivity, not his own words. Apologies should assume a recognition of why you’re having to apologize and a reflection on the harm you may have caused. Making it clear that you’re apologizing because people were offended — and not because you said or did something offensive — reeks of obligation and concession, not understanding and empathy.

Is is possible to make an apology for a homophobic past about owning up to your own mistakes? I had to find out for myself, so here’s mine.

My first run-in with the word that appeared in so many of Hart’s tweets was in the second or third grade. A boy on the playground asked me if I was trying to be a girl because my nails were so long. He called me a faggot.

Then, some time in the fifth grade, I remember a boy on the school bus asking me why I tried to make people stop using “gay” as an insult. Maybe he was looking for a connection, but all I felt was fear. The implication of his question — that defending gay people was unusual and suspicious — wasn’t lost on me.

That fear was realized when I was in the eighth grade, staring down the end of middle school as I prepared for a promised land where all the ninth graders pledged that everyone was cool with each other: high school. It must’ve been a school night when the calls started coming in. It was people from school — people I barely spoke to — calling to ask if it was true that I liked boys.

A seventh grader who didn’t take kindly to me breaking up with her had decided to burn her bridge to me by telling everyone in her cell phone’s address book that I had confessed to thinking boys were cute. I was shocked because I had never come out her, but to a friend of hers who accidentally admitted his attraction to men to me in a message sent to the wrong screen name. He’d told her, thinking perhaps that my girlfriend ought to know.

I was honest with the people calling me on the phone that night and asking me about it for years after. I told them I was bisexual. And the reactions were mixed degrees inspired by ignorance. One girl made me promise not to go “full gay.” There were people in our village of about 1,000 who didn’t say anything. Silence quickly became a best-case scenario as people turned that F word on me.

I was bullied, threatened, harassed, and had to talk my way out of a couple of ass-kickings. Eventually, I realized the only way out of the terrible situation was to go back into the closet. So, when I wasn’t loudly announcing in the cafeteria that I no longer thought boys were cute, I joined with my friends in using that F word casually, mercilessly, and frequently to demean, belittle, and mock each other. Calling each other that F word was a way to enforce masculinity on our friend group and discourage anything considered a violation of that.

For me, it was also a way to project my denial: How could I be a faggot if I used it as an insult? The short answer was that I hated myself. The long answer — that I’m a transgender woman and yes, maybe a bit of a fag — was much harder to find. It’s only now, as I find myself tempted to join the effort to reclaim that F word, that I feel its power draining. I mouth it to myself at night in bed just to feel it again and try to process all the pain behind the act of saying it, try to feel something positive about it.

I am sorry for all the things I said. I will never stop apologizing for the way I used that F word. Even if it was a defense mechanism, I may never know the pain I caused others, even as pain was caused to me.

If Hart was right, that would be where it would end for me — trying to figure out how to process an adolescent pain that feels practically ancient at age 27. But during a trip to San Francisco earlier this year, I visited the spot of the 1966 Compton’s Cafeteria riots, where a bunch of drag queens started fighting with the cops who so often arrested them for violating the city’s laws against cross-dressing. As I was walking back to my hotel from the spot, a man yelled at me as I passed, “Hey, faggot!”

I wanted to embody the spirit of the queens who fought the cops, to throw a brick his way or a cup of coffee in his face. I wanted to mock him in return, to deliver the most withering takedown of his entire existence he had ever heard.

But instead, a panic gripped me and I fled, walking as fast as I could without running to a park, where I found a quiet spot to cry. Hart seems to believe the world is more sensitive these days. But I’m as sensitive as ever.

Get the Teen Vogue Take. Sign up for the Teen Vogue weekly email.

Want more from Teen Vogue? Check this out: Transgender People Share Their Passport Application Difficulties