Month: April 2017

0 Comments
It all started with Kanye. I was looking at a photo of him and Kim Kardashian from the 2016 Met Gala, in which Kardashian’s spectacular Balmain gown, created with actual pieces of disco ball, somehow managed to accentuate her impossible-to-accentuate-further bottom. But it was Kanye—love him or hate him—whose getup ensnared me. It wasn’t his
0 Comments
Ruby Rose is the ultimate beauty chameleon. She can pull off anything, changes her look up nearly weekly, and is never one to shy away from bold colors both in her hair and her makeup. For example, when we meet her in L.A. for the launch of the Urban Decay x Jean-Michel Basquiat collection (out
0 Comments
You colored your hair a week ago, but already your Wang blonde is entering into brass territory. What do you do? As a newish blondie, I’m still figuring out how to care for my color, but one thing I’ve learned is that purple shampoo is non-negotiable. “People tend to over use purple shampoos, which can
0 Comments
When friend-of-ELLE.com and fearless contributor Jo Piazza told us she was writing a book about marriage, we smiled and said inside our heads “Good for you and all, but isn’t that just a bit conventional?” On the contrary! Despite the fact that the book contains a story of literal wife-carrying inspired by a Chilean tradition,
0 Comments
Advertisement – Continue Reading Below The young mother stared at me. She was dressed in her Sunday best. Next to her sat her cute daughter in a flouncy princesa outfit. I kept my eyes glued to the dirty floor of the train heading uptown. The baseball hat I wore didn’t do much to shield my
0 Comments
There is a wonderful urban legend that says Egyptian queen Cleopatra ordered her servants to fill a carved out gourd with bees to stimulate her genitals, with the rhythmic buzzing inside the base turning the hollow gourd into a makeshift vibrator. I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that this legend
0 Comments
Inspired By: Grammy Doc, grandmother “My maternal grandma is this unapologetic aesthete. She was a glamazon who’d pop into our tiny logging town every few months in her tailored Armani, Ferragamos, and constantly upgraded convertible Mustang. When my grandfather, a civil engineer, quit his job building missiles in the ’60s, she made the dough and he