In my second pregnancy, I’ve had exactly one moment in which I felt like my previous experience made me better prepared. I was about five weeks in, and the fatigue and nausea were just starting to obstruct my view of life, like that asshole who picks the seat in front of you in an empty cinema. As I mentally charted all the plans that pregnancy would now affect, I was slayed by the realisation that, for my upcoming visit with my best friend Jess, I’d be consigned to a condition of sobriety and nausea and probably zero fun. This thought — I’m not going to be any fun — brought me to tears.

And then, lightning-like, I realised, Wait a minute! I haven’t crashed my entire future into a funless ditch. I’m just hungry. And I veered my triumph of experience into the McDonald’s drive-through, and everything was, momentarily, fine again.

Other than that, I’ve been disappointed to find that pregnancy is not a skill I can improve with practice. This was especially crushing to realise in my second first trimester. My first first trimester consisted of 12 exhausted weeks of vomiting multiple times a day, though by week eight my doctor had prescribed something that helped. My second first trimester was 16 fucking weeks of relentless, exhausted nausea — relatively little puking, just constant, debilitating seasickness — stanched by no drug my clinic could throw my way, including the one that had helped last time. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t go out. I could barely move. As the lifelong possessor of a Midwestern work ethic and an addiction to overachievement, this killed me. Despite a nagging suspicion that this expectation might be irrational, I kept thinking, Shouldn’t it be easier this time?!

The fallacy in comparing one pregnancy to another, and in comparing diverse pregnant bodies, is the wrongful assumption that such comparison rests upon: the myth that there is a Right Way to be pregnant. That pregnancy is something one can succeed or fail at. Depending on your social and cultural milieu, rotten myths of pregnant “success” can include: avoiding a C-section or epidural; never touching alcohol, coffee, or sushi; and, of course, not gaining too much weight. Failures can include succumbing to any of the above, plus not glowing brightly enough, gaining weight anywhere but your belly, complaining too much, giving salty retorts to handsy strangers, and losing control of your farts.

Pregnancy is — like being in love, bereaved, or out of town — a condition, a state of being.

So while my second second trimester granted me some reprieve — the smog of nausea lifted, my energy increased, and I resumed work and general functionality — it also brought with it a chorus of unwelcomed assessments of my condition. It’s in the second trimester that one usually becomes visibly pregnant, and thus begins being appraised by family, friends, and strangers. And what better tool to over-analyse whether you’re being pregnant correctly this time than the uninvited commentary of the general public?!

The sodden bullshit of the idea of correct pregnancy belies one of reproduction’s most difficult components: Pregnancy entails a near-total loss of control. My body aches despite my best efforts to keep it stretched, rested, and nourished. I cannot predict my energy level on any given day any more than I can predict my ability to sleep at night. The urgent need to eat consistently outpaces any desire I might have to maintain a socially acceptable body. Most terrifying is the fact that — short of trying to ingest some nutrients and avoid huffing whippets or cocaine — there’s only so much I can do to ensure the health of my baby. It’s not even possible to assess the “success” of pregnancy by its resulting in a healthy baby or mother, because this would imply that people who suffer pregnancy loss, have babies born with complications, or those who die in childbirth have somehow failed.

So, no. Handing over my body to biological and spiritual forces unknown is distinctly not easier this time. Fate rolls its dice the moment sperm meets egg, and we are, during pregnancy’s unique and fleeting state, not its arbiter, only its host. And all of this is not even to mention that I’m now four years older, tireder, and saltier than last time — and busier, considering I already have one child to contend with who is literally not old enough to wipe himself yet.

Deep in the hellish nausea of the first half of my second pregnancy, I wrote to an older, wiser poet friend, a mother of two, in “a naked plea for sympathy.” “I’m so fucking disappointed in my body for not feeling better than this by now,” I unloaded on her. “I just alternate between full/exhausted and hungry/nauseated, and it reminds me of the bad joke people make about how there are only two seasons in Minnesota, winter and road construction. Plus, people who know I’m out of my first trimester keep greeting me with things like Are you feeling better? and these hopeful faces full of expectation and I want to punch them.” (PSA: “How are you feeling?” is a more sensitive question than “Are you feeling better?” Also, the only acceptable question to ask a pregnant person is “Can I bring you a snack?”)

Calmly, wisely, my friend wrote back with “all the sympathy.” She advised, “Don’t be a hero,” and then switched into all caps, perhaps intuiting that I wasn’t internalising this message on my own: “YOU ARE MAKING A PERSON. SIT DOWN AND EAT A DOUGHNUT.” I guess sometimes it’s easier to benefit from somebody else’s experience than it is from one’s own.

Just as it’s right to question the premise of a successful or correct pregnancy, the conclusion that pregnancy does not get easier with practice has allowed me to interrogate my assumption that it ever should have been. Pregnancy is not a skill. Pregnancy is not a talent. Pregnancy is — like being in love, bereaved, or out of town — a condition, a state of being. One cannot excel at gestating any more than one can excel at grieving: In both, the best we can hope for is to be a little more patient with ourselves, a little more forgiving, a little gentler and kinder to our own compromised state. Or to remember that transition is, even at its most humbling, always temporary.

If it is not exactly true that what doesn’t kill us invariably makes us stronger, it is almost always true that we are capable of enduring much more than we think we are. This is the one real benefit of my previous experience: I know that, despite the pain, intrusion, inconvenience, and messiness of pregnancy and birth, I’ve survived one version of it once before. Not only that: Growing a human inside my body and pushing him out of an orifice (previously) the size of a tampon made me feel superhuman. And not only that: After that great push, I fell in love again; a changed condition, permanently transformed. Total transformation never gets easier — it’s not meant to. We grow to meet it.

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Salma Hayek is the latest high profile actress to accuse Harvey Weinstein of sexual harassment. Her story — presented in the form of a New York Times op-ed — stands out, as it goes beyond a singular incident to reveal the systemic power Weinstein allegedly wielded in order to intimidate and coerce her. According to Hayek, Weinstein resorted to death threats, verbal abuse, and professional gaslighting when it became clear that she would not acquiesce to his sexual desires during the making of the 2002 film, Frida. Something else that sets this accusation apart from the dozens of others that have come forth about Weinstein is that it garnered a rare response from Weinstein himself in which he denies the allegations. Over 80 women have come forward with accounts against Weinstein, and he has only publicly issued statements in response to a few, including the allegations made by Hayek and Lupita Nyong’o — both women of colour.

Unfortunately, this has been the trend for women of colour who dare to add their names to the list of people willing to say “#MeToo.” The conversation about sexual assault that has transpired over the past few months has been very white. It began with a surge of white women sounding the alarm on Hollywood’s toxic rape culture. Then, a group of white men voiced their support of the movement. People of colour were largely silent on the issues with only a few exceptions. Obviously, the stakes are higher for people of colour in an industry that has already made it difficult for them to gain access to the same opportunities as everyone else. And the stark difference in how women of colour’s claims are treated is the final shred of evidence that victimhood is only for the privileged.

Lena Dunham recently referred to Aurora Perrineau's claim that Girls writer Murray Miller sexually assaulted her when she was 17 as one of the "3% of assault cases that are misreported every year." Murray also suggested Perrineau made monetary demands before coming forward and denied her accusations, and then recanted that statement as well. Dunham has since apologised for her words, but the fact that her position on believing women shifted at the expense of women of colour is notable.

It seems that for Black women, specifically, it’s even worse. Consider the fact that R. Kelly remains relatively unscathed save for a bad reputation as a result of decades of alleged sexual misconduct, in some cases with minors. In the wake of his recent rape accusations, hip-hop mogul Russell Simmons stepped down from the head of his companies to focus on his spiritual growth, a longtime hobby of his. With what can almost be categorised as nonchalance, Simmons stated that his memories of moments where he was accused of rape are different than his accusers. More denial. And Tavis Smiley has insisted that he is going to fight back against an investigation into sexual misconduct that got him suspended from PBS.

And this brings me back to Hayek. Earlier this year, the Los Angeles Times reported on how the veteran actress dismissed and victim-blamed Jessica Williams when the latter spoke out about the specific ways in which Black women are ignored. It was a moment that once again exhibited how anti-Blackness moves in pro-women spaces. I don’t bring this up to invalidate the pain and torment that Weinstein caused Hayek. But dismantling rape culture means calling power into question. There are many different systems of power that leave women vulnerable to men like Weinstein, and sexism isn’t the only one. Race, class, ability, and a host of other systems all make people vulnerable to sexualised power and violence. If we can’t have a conversation about sexual misconduct that also acknowledges these, we’re not going to make much progress at all.

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Dear Daniela,

I like to think I’m pretty good at makeup, but what really annoys me is that no matter how good it looks when I leave the house, it’s always almost totally gone by 4pm. Obviously in summer it goes even faster, but even in cold weather, it seems to disintegrate. I have kinda combination skin, so some parts of my face just go really shiny, while others seem to ‘eat’ the makeup and go patchy. It’s so annoying!

Anisha, 26

Disappearing makeup is one of life’s little injustices. After exercising an almost inhuman amount of self-control by dutifully getting up early rather than hitting snooze, only for your painstakingly applied makeup to slide off by the time you grab your 4pm handful of almonds (okay, Pret Love Bar), renders it something of a Sisyphean task. I don’t know any woman who’s not experienced this at some point – myself included. On the whole, my face can hold onto eyeliner (specifically Charlotte Tilbury Liquid Eye Pencil), mascara (Max Factor 2000 Calorie Curl Addict doesn’t crumble) and brow gel (Glossier Boy Brow can survive even the sweatiest of sauna sessions). Everything else? It’s a veritable slip’n’slide.

"It’s all about understanding your skin type," confirmed Chantecaille’s Global Makeup Artist, Shareen Gerald. "Knowledge is power! Does it always all come off by 1pm? Then you need to think about using primer. If you’re working with a very oily skin type like that, look for a mattifying primer that feels slightly velvety on the skin. It’ll give your skin a little bit of grip, and as long as you choose an oil-free version, it won’t clog your pores." Then, there’s the matter of setting sprays, which are pretty Marmite in the beauty community. Some love them, others think they don’t really do anything – but Shareen told me: "I’m a big fan of setting sprays – the Chantecaille Rosewater is great for setting makeup, or Cover FX Mattifying Setting Spray if you really need to lock in makeup. If you really want your highlight to pop, spritz your face then apply powder highlighter while it’s still wet. It’s not a subtle look, mind!"

Most of my makeup education came from my days working on the shop floor of a high-end beauty store. Being of a drier skin type, I used to avoid powder like the plague, but my colleagues showed me that a light dusting was the difference between your makeup looking like a Raphael or a Picasso after lunch. (I love By Terry Hyaluronic Powder, which has skin-feeding hyaluronic acid for ultimate smoothness). "Powder is really key," added Shareen. "It’s the one thing most women don’t do enough of when it comes to applying makeup. It really doesn’t have to be cakey, just a light dusting of Chantecaille HD Powder over your face right at the end is all you need. I do my lipstick first, then once I’m done perfecting that a little, the makeup will have settled into my skin somewhat and I can concentrate the powder where it’s needed," she added.

So by now you’ve stocked up on mattifying primer and translucent setting powder – but how to go about applying it? Shareen let me in on a secret: "If a client needs super long-lasting makeup, I’d apply say, a powder blush first, then a cream blush on top of that. The layering of textures helps keep everything in place, and powder then cream keeps it looking relatively skin-like." When I pressed her about drier skin types, Shareen advised mixing a drop or two of facial oil into your foundation, or applying it before your base. "Not only will it give you a luminous finish, but it helps ‘confuse’ drier skin types a little. Skin like that always wants comfort, wants hydration. But do this, and your skin will take the oil for hydration purposes first before it eats away at your makeup.’"

Holistic aesthetic doctor, Rabia Malik, gave oil a thumbs-up too. "If your skin looks patchy and clumpy with makeup by afternoon, a drop of facial oil is a good idea – I like jojoba," she confirmed. However, she had some more long-term advice, too. "Before I would advise certain kinds of foundation or what have you, if your makeup is constantly sliding off or going crumbly, you need to cleanse and exfoliate better." She’s right; you can’t produce a great artwork, be that a Raphael or a Picasso, on a poor quality canvas. I really like the Murad Hydro-Glow Aqua Peel for this – it’s a two-phase treatment with a professional-grade retexturising swab and hydrating sheet mask to exfoliate and nourish in turn.

If you’re worried about long-wear makeup damaging your skin, Dr. Malik had some words of comfort. "What makes it long-wearing is just different pigments that don’t break down so quickly, so providing you choose an oil-free version, you should be okay. However, be careful to cleanse very thoroughly in the evening," she cautioned. I’ll second that – nothing makes for dull, congested skin like a shoddy cleanse. I’m sure you didn’t just click for a lecture on cleansing, so here are the best long-wear foundations in my embarrassingly well-tested opinion: Make Up For Ever Ultra HD Foundation (comes in 40 shades), NARS Velvet Matte Skin Tint (12 shades) and bareMinerals BarePRO Performance Wear Liquid Foundation (30 shades).

I’m confident this will help you, Anisha. Send me a selfie! And remember, in Dr. Malik’s words: "Skin prep starts before you apply makeup."

Good luck!

Daniela

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As a self-respecting millennial, you'll know that '90s nostalgia is the very foundation of our overworked, underpaid, selfie-taking, avocado-eating being.

From finding the theme tune to Round The Twist stuck in your head , oh, about once a day, to the part we played in the return of Ben-from-A1's curtain hairstyle, our interest in the pre-millennium decade has gone from a gentle comedic obsession to full-blown fetishisation. BuzzFeed even has an entire category page dedicated to the subject.

The '90s, in our twenty-to-thirtysomething heads, remind us of a safer time. A time before the internet, when the biggest question we needed to grapple with was whether we wanted Monster Munch or Wotsits in our packed lunch. It was a time when adults could sort things out for us, when things just seemed to 'work'.

And so, as a form of escapism, we turned to the culture of the '90s. Reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are far less scary than watching a news item on Brexit.

In 2017, no one knows what's going on. Our generation, upon reaching adulthood, found ourselves handed a world that had been left in a less than shipshape manner. The internet existed and suddenly we were aware of 50 times the amount of problems. We couldn't even fake it 'til we made it by blindly following in our parents' footsteps and hoping for the best; things like buying a house and saving money were all of a sudden Off The Table.

And so, as a form of escapism, we turned to the culture of our childhood. Turns out, reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are far less scary than watching a news item on Brexit.

It was therefore rather canny of Channel 4 to purchase the rights to the entire six seasons of favourite teen television show, Dawson's Creek. In November, they released all of it online via All 4, entirely for our viewing pleasure.

Back in 1998, the year Dawson's Creek and its ubiquitous theme tune* hit TV screens, I was an awkward 11-year-old Briton growing up in a suburban American town like Capeside. I didn't watch Dawson's Creek though. While I was really into other seminal '90s shows like Are You Afraid of the Dark, Fresh Prince and Friends, the long-word-using, Abercrombie and Fitch-wearing world of Dawson's Creek seemed too far removed from the British TV shows my friends back home were into at the time. I missed them terribly. I was living in Dawson's world, I thought. I don't have to watch it on TV as well.

Fast-forward 20 years to 2017. Dawson's Creek was back. Intelligent people I followed on social media seemed very excited. The Sad Dawson meme was being shared more than Distracted Boyfriend. Then, last week, I found myself with a long plane ride ahead of me. "What the hell," I thought. "Let's give Dawson and pals a whirl."

What an eye-opener that was.

Because, it turns out, '90s nostalgia is one giant lie. The '90s were not the schmaltzy, safe, escapist climate we think they were. They were not Hallmark movie-perfect, rose-tinted or anything of the sort. The '90s were rubbish.

Take, if you will, three of 2017's biggest issues: underage sex pursued by people in power, slut shaming and racism. All three of these (along with homophobia) are visible in just the first six episodes alone. Nineties' culture, despite how much we fetishise it in our 'woke' society today, was decidedly not woke. It was so not woke that what was perceived as the most woke young person's show on television in 1998 makes for a pretty jaw-dropping first-time watch in 2017.

"The Graduate. The one where the older woman seduces the younger man," she says seductively to this boy who, were it 2017, wouldn't be able to remember Nelly's 'Hot In Herre' being played on the radio. Because he wasn't born yet.

Let's look at Pacey. Much like many 15-year-old boys, Pacey wants to have sex. Sadly, this was before the invention of smartphones and therefore, Pacey, unable to Snapchat his way to hot teens in his local area (or something), instead settles his affections on Miss Jacobs, his 38-year-old teacher who, on her first day in Capeside, struts into the video store where Pacey works and asks for his help finding The Graduate. "The one where the older woman seduces the younger man," she purrs seductively to this boy who, were it 2017, wouldn't be able to remember Nelly's Hot In Herre being played on the radio. Because he wasn't born yet.

The two pursue a sexual relationship. On Pacey's part, it is consensual. As much as we determine a 15-year-old can consent. For 38-year-old Miss Jacobs, though – pursuing a 15-year-old boy? There's a reason the last few months of 2017 have been dedicated to outing people who used their positions of power to do just this. It's not OK. Not even a little bit.

Moving swiftly on, we come to Katie Holmes' Joey. In the pilot, she is asked why people don't like her. "Pick a topic," Joey says. "There's my dad the imprisoned convict, or my sister, impregnated by her black boyfriend."

Bodie, the "black boyfriend", is an excellent human being and yet his race, and the fact that he lives, unmarried, with a white woman who is mother to his unborn child, becomes an unfortunate – but somehow understandable – reason in Capeside as to why Joey doesn't fit in.

Fifteen-year-old Jen, four episodes in, admits to new boyfriend Dawson that not only has she had sex before, she's had sex with (gasp) multiple partners. Dawson stops talking to her. Jen feels awful about herself, especially about the bit where she lost her virginity aged 12 to an "older guy who got her drunk(!)" and tells Dawson that she's "not that girl anymore". Dawson, for his part, magnanimously accepts this fallen woman back into his life.

If TV shows are a mirror to society (feel free to add in Pacey's constant harassment of his brother for being gay and refusing to admit it), watching Dawson's Creek made me confused as to how, as a politically aware generation, we've managed to find escapism in the culture of a decade which was as far behind our political ideals as you can get.

Dawson's Creek is a product of its time but, as the show went on, it produced some seriously important and groundbreaking moments.

If we look back at the '90s objectively, we know things were awful for oppressed communities. Even as children we knew. It was right there in our faces. The LA riots provided an illustration of the horrifying impact of unending systemic racism. Many of the Weinstein allegations date back to the '90s; politicians openly called LGBT people things like "weak, morally sick wretches"; lads' mags ran features on how to pull "birds" with "massive tits".

Mainstream '90s attitudes leaked into television to create the sort of bananas plotlines you can see in the early episodes of Dawson's Creek and, no doubt, countless other television shows from the same era (props must go to Fresh Prince, though, which took on racism over and over again during its six seasons – example six-million-and-one of why it's so important to have diversity in media). As Dawson's Creek went on it did actually produce some seriously important storylines: It had the first gay kiss on US network television. Mental health was tackled way before we got obsessed with anxiety. The show paved the way for its more political, more woke younger brothers and sisters. So why do we insist on harking back to culture from a time that didn't reflect our current mindset?

Because in 2017, TV shows, even escapist teen and comedy shows, do not shy away from important issues. Modern Family had a storyline with a transgender child; Riverdale delved into rape, slut shaming and homophobia. Even laugh-a-minute sitcom Brooklyn Nine-Nine dedicated a not-funny-but-deathly-important episode to police brutality. Things have changed.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that, yeah, things are scarier now. Our TV shows reflect the time we live in – the same escapism from the outside world just isn't available anymore. But thank GOODNESS that it's not. The fight for equality in every area is still ongoing and if we're to keep going up that steep hill, we need the mainstream media on board.

So thanks to Dawson and co for starting the fight, paving the way, and then handing the reins down to us. We got it from here.

* FYI – for those of you who are watching the show on All 4 and are confused about why "I Don't Want To Wait" isn't the theme tune anymore, so was I. Turns out it's something boring to do with song rights. But fear not, Sony did splash out on the overall rights for the two-part finale so if you get that far, get prepared to hear it in all its glory.

If not, here you go.

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Much like statement earrings, souped-up hair slides are having a moment this season. As we gear up for Christmas parties and office 'dos, we're all a little more playful and experimental with our accessorising – just look at the jewel-toned velvet shoes and embellished bags we're donning.

From Chanel's crystal-encrusted hairbands to Elie Saab's pearl-topped number, AW17's catwalks were all about adornment, although the statement hair accessory made its debut a while back – Ashley Williams' SS17 diamante-embellished GIRLS hair slides were seen on everyone from from Alexa Chung to Georgia May Jagger last season.

Unsure how to change up your tresses? Think Studio 54 meets the '90s, and add geometric shapes, jewel-fronted clips and bright coloured slides to your hair game. Click through to find our favourite hair accessories to jazz up any winter get-up.

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It's time to get acquainted with MISBHV, the Polish brand bringing its streetwear aesthetic and DIY ethos to the world's coolest stores via its homegrown gang of skaters, artists and club kids.

MISBHV began when Natalia Maczek realised studying law wasn't for her. "I came to London for a summer job, and I really fell in love with clothes, the music, and the new experiences here. It was very powerful for me because we didn't have that scene at the time in Poland." She started making parody designer T-shirts for friends, who wore them at the parties her friend and co-designer Thomas Wirski was throwing in Warsaw. "It was just a fun project I started during university, and we got a lot of support from our friends in the music industry, skaters, artists – it was very organic. I decided I wanted to give it a chance, so we started selling pieces online."

This was a bold move for the pair at the time. "Basically because of Poland's history, before 1989 this field did not exist whatsoever," Thomas explains. "Then, after 1989, people had bigger problems than how they dressed. Growing up in Poland, being a designer didn't really register in people's minds. This only really started changing a few years ago." Despite having no design experience, making clothes was a domestic skill embedded in the culture of the time. "I saw my mum and grandma making dresses, or my dad tailoring pieces – that 'do it yourself' spirit was very current for me," Natalia explains. "And we didn't have access to Western stores or Western brands," Thomas reiterates. "If you saw a glimpse of that life in the form of a record cover or in the movies, you'd have to replicate that look yourself. So for our parents, it was normal to buy a pair of jeans and tailor it – you would have to make it yourself because you didn't have access to anything else."

With no outside help or financial investment, the duo took this attitude and brought it to Paris. "We did that all very intuitively," says Natalia. "We went to Paris Fashion Week, went to clubs, we had fun, and we felt this new energy coming from streetwear-oriented people. So we set up a showroom and just sent out emails to people to come and see the pieces." That was in January 2015, just under three years ago, and the first retailer they were approached by was Browns. How did such a small brand cope with the demand for higher production from luxury outlets?

"That was a really big challenge for us in the first two years," Thomas admits. "Before, we'd have an idea on Monday, design a T-shirt on Tuesday, screen print it on Wednesday, shoot it on Thursday and sell it on Friday. At the weekend, you'd see kids wearing it in clubs. Going from that to designing collections in advance, shooting a high-production look book, and delivering it on time...for that you need a big structure." Given these origins, on the streets of Warsaw, are they worried about losing their authenticity as the brand grows into the luxury market?

"When we started – and I remember this very clearly – the only criteria for me personally when finishing up a piece was, 'Would I wear this to a club, and would I feel good in it?' This is still something that's very, very important to me," Thomas states. "But on the other hand, I've also grown up. I'm 30 now, and I'm looking for more quality in clothing. So I think it's only natural to marry the two, to get this effect of a city's coolness, that it's only cool if it's real, and then to have great expertise and craftsmanship in the way a piece is finished."

Luxury streetwear has enjoyed an industry-shaping revival over the past several years, with brands like Vetements and designers like Gosha Rubchinskiy ripping up the rule book and forming their own aesthetic. Due to geographical generalisations, MISBHV is often grouped together with the Russian Rubchinskiy and Georgian Demna Gvasalia, with writers and buyers often assuming a similar aesthetic from the brands. But you'd be remiss to overlook the intricacies of Natalia and Thomas' vision.

"It's a huge, huge compliment to be compared to those designers," Thomas says, "but culturally, we're very different. Something that comes from our history and our socialism is that our woman is very strong. Women were never weaker than their husbands and they always worked, too. That translates into our brand – she's always strong and stands for herself." This is also apparent in the materials the brand uses. With raw denim and canvas cotton, motorcycle-ready leather and reflective fabrics, it's clear that the MISBHV girl doesn't sit around waiting for the action to happen.

From an aesthetic perspective, it's not just facets of eastern Europe that run through the brand's veins. With monogrammed denim, motocross tops and jackets, and, of course, oversized hoodies, you can't ignore the '90s element of MISBHV. "I think people go back to the age they grew up in when they design," Natalia muses. "I remember the first video tapes I rented were Kids and Clueless – those two movies really shaped me." "I'm emotionally attached to that era – I was getting into music, I kissed a girl for the first time," Thomas says. "When I design collections now, I think of what would a 16 or 17-year-old version of me wear at that time." And it's today's 17-year-old who MISBHV cares about now, too. "Obviously there are more and more famous people wearing our stuff, but we still prefer to post the real girl that has 1,000 followers on Instagram, the one who has a unique style – we're inspired by those people."

In just three years, Natalia and Thomas have gone from dressing their friends to showing at New York Fashion Week. Their second presentation was a highlight, with friend Yulia Klintsevich shooting it on film: "It was a very demanding thing for us to do, but when we look back at the movie, we're so moved – it was really beautiful." What are they excited about now? Thomas is going behind the camera to shoot the next campaign, and they're taking things back to their homeland. "We want to work with Polish artists and host parties again. We want to show the world our DNA, and we now have the opportunity to do that."

MISBHV began as a DIY brand because they had to, but now they're doing it because they want to. All eyes are now on Warsaw, where their loyal local following continues to show support as international backers watch closely what the brand does next. With collaborations with a '70s poster designer, and immersive show-cum-parties in the pipeline, we can't wait to see what goes down next season.

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It’s never been easier to keep up with what’s going on in the world. The news is everywhere – in our Facebook feeds, on the morning commute, during that lazy half hour before you switch off the TV and go to bed. But the tide of global affairs is often more upsetting than uplifting and it can be tempting to bury our heads in the sand. As the saying goes: a picture is worth a thousand words, so to offer a different perspective we've rounded up some of the most memorable images of the week's events, captured by the best photojournalists on the planet.

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As a gender non-binary musician, I have to say I have never met a man in a band who didn’t think they were better at music than me. So this week I was more shocked by having elbows than I was by a rock music venue in Middlesbrough forbidding female-fronted bands from performing there. According to regulars of Doctor Browns, women just can’t sing/play rock like men. And you know what gals, they’re right… because women are doubtlessly better musicians than men. How many gigs fronted by old white dudes have you had to sit through? Add in a spoonful of ego and you’ve got a pudding full of proof which tastes like sweet sweet mediocrity, topped with a coulis of condescension.

Let's take Josh Homme — frontman of Queens of the Stone Age, and occasional homophobe — kicking a female photographer square in the head at a gig in LA earlier this week. Homme responded by saying he was so into it that he didn’t notice her standing literally there. He did eventually apologise to Lauren, which is at least a step up from his outrageous response to being called homophobic after he screamed “faggot” at someone at Norwegian Wood Festival back in 2008.

And speaking of the utterly irrelevant, Morrissey continues to hammer the nails into his reputation’s coffin, this week calling out German newspaper Der Spiegel for apparently manipulating an interview. Instead of backing down, the German publication brought the receipts and published the entire audio recording of Morrissey’s interview. Already in hot water after he went on record defending Kevin Spacey and Harvey Weinstein, it seems as though the world might finally be over its Morrissey phase. Phew.

Anyway, enough about them; let’s talk about some real rockstars. This week, Meryl Streep announced plans to make more demands of Hollywood in terms of representation of women. “We’re after 50/50 by 2020,” she said onstage at the Massachusetts Conference for Women, adding that she’s banding together with a bunch of other brilliant female actors to put together a set of non-negotiable demands. While the Golden Globe nominations failed to recognise a single woman in the category of Best Director, and snubbed huge actors and movies — like Tiffany Haddish in the smash Girls Trip, or naming Get Out as a comedy (unbelievable) — which Jada Pinkett Smith rightly called out as an antiquated view of race and gender in the film industry, perhaps, if Meryl’s new posse has anything to do with it, this is the final year we’ll all have to sit through this awards garbage knowing that someone more deserving should be clutching the trophy.

In another rockstar move, Bella Hadid jacked a Tag Heuer opening in London, wearing a full-on gown, to protest Trump’s abominable decision to recognise Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. Hadid’s father and much of her family are Palestinian, and in an important and moving Instagram post the supermodel opened up about the feelings of sadness such a senseless decision brought upon her, her family and many other Palestinians the world over. Oftentimes the Israel-Palestine conflict can be an abstract, dehumanised intellectual battle, so while some may criticise Instagram activism, Hadid’s humanisation of Trump’s decision narrated a rare emotional insight onto millions of people’s feeds.

In another emotional moment this week, that Keaton Jones viral bullying video had people across the net in tears. Tip: Do not watch the clip hungover/hungry/tired/in public/wearing mascara. The video, taken by Jones’s mum, which addresses his bullies directly, struck a chord in Hollywood’s heart. From Cardi B to Demi Lovato to Millie Bobby Brown; from Mark Ruffalo to Chris Evans, messages of support and propositions of friendship poured out from across the internet to this little kid who’s had enough of being bullied. As someone who’s been bullied too, I wish I’d been cool enough to make a viral vid and become an internet sensation, but props to Keaton, whose story will hopefully shut down insecure people masquerading as big strong bullies everywhere. Stop it now. Nobody thinks it’s cool.

Continuing this emotional rollercoaster that we term existence, this week it was confirmed that 2018 will simply be a waste year of waiting for 2019 to roll around, after it was guttingly confirmed that both Stranger Things 3 and the final season of Game of Thrones won’t be ready until the year after next. I mean, what’s the point then? What am I gonna do with all my Stranger Things merch (lol I’m kidding)?? How many times can I watch snippets of Cersei savaging everyone and everything ever before I drown in my meaninglessness? Perhaps it’s time to watch something else or, like, go outside. We’ll see. *Opens Netflix, rewatches season 1 Jessica Jones *

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An Australian TV channel has come under fire for releasing a trailer in which a male reality show contestant says he wants to be "obeyed" by women and respected "as the man", and that men are “getting whipped by their women.” It's almost as if #MeToo never happened.

The man named Dean, who features in the new series of Married at First Sight on the country's Channel 9 network, prefaces his views by saying: “It’s hard to say without sounding sexist or something,” before reeling off the qualities he's looking for in a woman. Sadly for Dean, it appears he was born several decades too late.

Dean wants to be loved, honoured… And obeyed. 🤵 #9Married pic.twitter.com/Lei4aGCXwG

— Married At First Sight Australia (@MarriedAU) December 14, 2017

"I like a girl that is a girl and is girly and knows that I'm the man and that I'm in charge," he announces. "Also I want someone that listens to me. I want to be the alpha male and she needs to respect me as the man. I think that's a traditional role that still exists in a lot of other countries in the world and Australia's lost that.

"A lot of guys are just afraid to be men and and they're getting whipped by their women. I don't agree with that, I don't know why that's happened. I want to bring it back."

In the show, which has a British counterpart on Channel 4, eight single people are matched into couples by a panel of "experts" and are made to enter a civil union before even getting to know each other.

Critics condemned the trailer and Dean's views on social media, claiming they would have been more at home in the 1950s and that the tone of the whole thing was particularly offensive at a time when women's allegations of sexual harassment and abuse have finally started to be taken seriously.

who decided to put a show from the 1950’s on tv https://t.co/vilJGmOXtn

— green bean🍂 (@bricorine) December 14, 2017

This is appalling, #Channel9. It’s not edgy, it’s not ‘controversial’. It’s straight out offensive, and in this #MeToo world it’s insane. Shelve it immediately https://t.co/YHOH80qTWg

— Stuart Page (@stupafication) December 14, 2017

It’s amazing that you haven’t learnt a damn thing from 2017.

— Ivana Kovac Kuti (@IKKsays) December 14, 2017

It's like he's reading from the domestic violence red flag list https://t.co/OgfG0wJI0K

— Jess Hill (@jessradio) December 14, 2017

Any man who needs to force a woman to respect and obey him is both a coward and a bully.

— Clementine Ford (@clementine_ford) December 14, 2017

Gee, what an exceptional character to give air time to so he can spread his Neanderthal messages - well done, @MarriedAU 🙄

— Kelly McIntyre Hill (@KelmacHill) December 14, 2017

Bloody hell, this is like a domestic violence campaign ad. https://t.co/15fJrNS2Gl

— Petra #ChangeTheDate Starke (@petstarr) December 14, 2017

Channel 9 must've missed the news that "feminism" was named 2017's Merriam-Webster's word of the year. Did they really think viewers would just be passive in the face of such overt, outdated sexism?

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Come January, as celebrities begin to descend upon the red carpet for awards season, our eyes will, once again, be on what they are wearing. But this time, something might be different.

According to The Hollywood Reporter, "actresses, including both nominees and presenters will wear black to protest gender inequality and acknowledge the flood of sexual abuse allegations” at the 75th annual Golden Globes, set to take place on Sunday, January 7, 2018. The initiative follows the Screen Actors Guild’s announcement that all of the presenters at the awards show next month will be women.

The latest step in creating more visibility around the industry's ongoing sexual abuse scandals, the move is meant to show solidarity with the survivors of the #MeToo movement, which includes some of Hollywood's biggest leading ladies, like Lupita Nyong'o, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Salma Hayek. It will also be used as an opportunity to give actresses more of a voice on the red carpet; according to The Hollywood Reporter, a recent meeting at the Creative Artists Agency, the world's leading talent agency, discussed how interviewers can push beyond simply asking women "What are you wearing " a conversation that has been in the zeitgeist since the birth of the #AskHerMore Twitter campaign following the 2014 Emmys.

Since then, women have began using the red carpet, and the style-minded discussions that inevitably come with it, to segue into other topics. This past year, Evan Rachel Wood wore a series of custom suits that were meant to show young girls that they "don't have to wear [a dress] if [they] don't want to." At the Oscars in February, a countless number of stars added a blue ribbon to their formal attire in support of the ACLU.

If The Hollywood Reporter's reports are correct and these women (of which there are said to be over 30) to decide to wear black to protest the rampant sexual harassment in Hollywood, asking about their appearance could be the gateway to an important but hard conversation, not just in the film and television, but in fashion as well. Reminder: Never underestimate the power of clothing.

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Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without festive programming. Some families, we've heard, take it so seriously that they create a full timetable based on their favourite listings in the Radio Times, which becomes a sacred text at this time of year.

Whether or not you take your Christmas specials as seriously as that, there may be gaps in your festive TV schedule that need filling – and that's where Netflix comes in. The streaming service comes equipped with a plethora of Christmassy TV episodes and specials.

Watch some of your favourite characters as they navigate their way through the awkward family encounters and ugly jumpers of the festive season. These are the specials to add to your to-watch list.

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt - Season 2, Episode 8. "Kimmy Goes to a Hotel!"

They say: "On Fake Christmas, Kimmy and Dong take a trip to the Poconos, and a Jewish family claims that Jacqueline's prized Mondrian is rightfully theirs."

We say: Perfect to watch with a turkey sandwich to ward off sad post-Christmas feelings on Boxing Day.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend - Season 1, Episode 8. "My Mom, Greg's Mom and Josh's Sweet Dance Moves!"

They say: "During the holidays, a stressed-out Rebecca prepares for a visit from her extremely critical mother, while Greg struggles with his own family issues."

We say: Not on the best terms with your family and dreading a festive feud? This will make you feel a whole lot better.

Black Mirror - Season 2, Episode 4. "White Christmas."

They say: "Three interconnected tales of technology run amok during the Christmas season are told by two men at a remote outpost in a frozen wilderness."

We say: Bored of all the lovey-dovey Christmas #content? You couldn't watch less festive "Christmas" show than this.

Gossip Girl - Season 1, Episode 11. "Roman Holiday."

They say: "When Blair's father comes home for the holidays with an unexpected guest - his boyfriend - Blair finds it difficult to hide her disappointment."

We say: Another one to make you feel better about your own awkward family dynamics. A reassuring reminder that even spoiled rich people have problems.

How I Met Your Mother - Season 8, Episode 11 & 12. "The Final Page: Part 1 & 2."

They say: "With Christmas fast approaching, Barney tells Ted that he plans on proposing to Patrice, which leads Ted to debate whether to tell Robin."

We say: The family-friendly comedy gets all sentimental. Watch with the people you love.

Gilmore Girls - Season 2, Episode 10. "The Bracebridge Dinner."

They say: "While Rory struggles to keep the budding rivalry between Dean and Jess under control, Lorelai invites most of Stars Hollow to an elaborate feast."

We say: Don't watch this while hungry. Perfect food-coma viewing.

Pretty Little Liars - Season 5, Episode 13. "How the 'A' Stole Christmas."

They say: "As Christmas approaches, the girls plot to clear Spencer's name, get justice for Mona and bring Alison down for good."

We say: Keep your teenage sister or cousin occupied with this one, and love every minute of it.

Orange is the New Black - Season 1, Episode 13. "Can't Fix Crazy."

They say: "Red's scheme to reclaim her kitchen backfires: the inmates stage a Christmas pageant: Piper's plans unravel even as she realises her life is in jeopardy."

We say: For all you Grinches out there – mayhem behind bars.

Arrested Development - Season 2, Episode 6. "Afternoon Delight."

They say: "After getting roasted at Bluth's company Christmas party, Gob fires the entire staff, forcing Michael to come up with a way to rehire the employees."

We say: Bad memories from the office Christmas party? It couldn't have been as bad as this.

The Royle Family: Christmas Special 2000

They say: "While the Royles are bloated with Christmas turkey, Barbara is wondering what to feed her future in-laws, who are vegetarian."

We say: Got a family of fussy eaters? Veggies and vegans and family cooks will appreciate this.

Bojack Horseman Christmas Special

They say: "It’s Christmas, and BoJack wants nothing to do with it. Then Todd shows up with a giant candy cane and an old “‘Horsin’ Around” Christmas episode."

We say: Another one for the Scrooges among us. Never watched this cult cartoon before? Now's the time.

American Horror Story - Season 2 (Asylum), episode 8. "Unholy Night."

They say: "A murderous Santa wreaks havoc on Briarcliff. Sister Jude faces off with the Devil. Arden has a shocking encounter in the Death Chute."

We say: For all those dreaming of a Gothic Christmas

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Having a healthy pregnancy is something most people aim for when they plan to have a baby. They take prenatal vitamins, put together healthy meal plans, and otherwise prepare their bodies as best as possible. But there are still some factors we can't control, and they may be affecting pregnancy more than we think.

A new study has shown that fracking may have an effect on infant health — pregnant women who lived within close distance to fracking sites are more likely to give birth to underweight infants.

The study, published in Science Advances, looked at more than 1.1 million births in Pennsylvania between 2004 and 2013, and found that women who lived within a half a mile of fracking operations in Pennsylvania were 25% more likely to have infants who were low-weight.

Fracking, or induced hydraulic fracturing, is a drilling technique that involves injecting high-pressure water mixed with chemicals into underground rock to release natural gas. It's become one of the biggest environmental issues we face, because of how resource-intensive it is, and how those chemicals can make their way into the water we drink.

It's not clear in the study why births close to fracking sites are affected while those farther away are not, but either way, it's a sign that fracking may have even more dangers than we originally thought. Given how the Flint water crisis may have affected fertility levels in the area, however, it's not a surprise that the environment plays a huge role in pregnancy.

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A few mornings ago, I was walking down West 15th Street when a bike messenger whizzed alongside me and shouted so close and so loud it almost made me drop my coffee. “ White boots! I SEEEEE YOU! ” It startled me, but caused me to look down at my still bright white patent boots somewhat lovingly.

Yep, white boots, or more accurately, optic white shoes — I see YOU.

Every few seasons a footwear trend comes along that doesn’t just capture our fancy, it tramples any other fledgling trend in its path. And at this particular point in time, blinding white shoes are IT — from runways to street style roundups to basically every Instagram star's all-weather shoe of choice. And, it’s not just a fashion person trend either. Because you can spot them on everyone from Cardi B in her lace-up Steve Madden stilettos to suburban weekenders doing their best '90s rap homage in their pristine white Nike Air Force Ones. No matter who you are, opting for all-electric-white shoes says something — maybe a few things — about your state of mind, and most likely a need to stand out. Because, you’re nothing if not noticeable in neon white footwear.

White shoes could be one of fashion’s most basic articles of rebellion.

White shoes could be one of fashion’s most basic articles of rebellion, both in their resistance to the status quo (or blending in) and their ongoing, unavoidable dance with danger (i.e. dirt). And, this is as true for a $30 pair of sparkling white Keds as it is for $1,700 pair of knee-high Gianvito Rossis.

Growing up in the suburbs of Long Island, white shoes weren’t a trend at all: They were the enemy. Once out of their packaging, whether for holy communion or dance class, we all knew where things were headed: grass stains, scuffs, grape gum, the inevitable dog poop. White shoes were literally asking for it, every single second you were wearing them. Which is why, save “special” occasions, we rarely wore them at all, unless, of course, the point was to lovingly mess them up, as with a pair of high-top Converse or Adidas Superstars, when high-school mud splatters and bright smears of magic marker were a point of pride. But outside of the suburbs, their hipness looked like something else entirely.

Historically, it’s not hard to find examples of white shoes over decades, extending their blinding alabaster glow well beyond fashion and clothing into culture itself. Back in the ‘60s in Los Angeles, Whisky A Go-Go was deemed one of the earliest and most popular “discotheques” in America, and became notable for many things, but perhaps mostly for their infamous go-go dancers — women suspended in cages dancing in signature stark-white knee-high boots. Despite the irony of actual cages, these boot-clad women (allegedly) projected the image of warriors — powerful and untouchable. Released from their confines... watch out!

Many credit the designer André Courrèges for designing the white go-go boot, but it was probably women like Nancy Sinatra and Jane Fonda, as '60s glamazon Barbarella, who made these shoes a true symbol of female defiance: of power and independence — life on her terms. Sinatra’s hit song “These Boots Are Made For Walkin'” detail a woman’s discovery of her “cheatin’, lyin', messin’” man, but maybe better than her classic line, about how one of these days, “these boots are gonna walk all over you,” she simply closes out the song and “starts walkin’.” Away and on her own.

Because who needs that loser, anyway?

Two decades later, the trend had another rebellious milestone. In 1984, Madonna created one of the most historic MTV moments of all time by descending a tiered wedding cake, ripping off her veil, and letting loose her perfect ceremonial hair to writhe around onstage in a punk white dress and satin pumps, singing the year’s anthem, “Like A Virgin.” While it didn’t directly challenge the conventions of marriage or a woman’s freedom to sex as a single woman, her performance was, politically, right on cue. That very year, Geraldine Ferraro became the first woman to nab a vice presidential nomination on a major party ticket and the State of Mississippi finally ratified the 19th Amendment, granting women the right to vote (NOT kidding, people). Just a year after that, Emily’s List was founded with a mission to elect more Democratic, pro-abortion rights women to office.

So, maybe it’s no surprise optic white shoes have chosen this moment to make their comeback. Or, more accurately, that we’ve chosen them.

So, maybe it’s no surprise optic white shoes have chosen this moment to make their comeback. Or, more accurately, that we’ve chosen them: to stand out and join the resistance during a period marked by a turbulent, openly anti-women administration, and the ongoing call out and takedown of the entertainment and media industries most powerful and menacing kingpins.

Elaine Welteroth, editor-in-chief of Teen Vogue, isn’t shy about showing her everyday devotion to her now-signature tall white Laurence Dacade boots, most notably during a year when her voice and image have never been more prominent or in demand. She wears them everywhere and with everything, from gowns to jeans, defying the predictable image of what kinds of shoes a fancy "editor-in-chief" should wear, and when.

Because no “shoulds” here. Not anymore. We, of the optic white shoe movement, could care less about stains, traditions, practicality, classic femininity...or, gah!, convention.

Yeah, all you white shoes — WE SEE YOU.

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Beauty buzzwords are thrown around all the time; it can be hard to keep up and know what's worth exploring further. We're here to break down the industry's latest obsession by tackling the science, talking to skincare and makeup pros, and getting real about what works and what doesn’t.

You’ve heard people raving about it, and you’ve seen it in new and hyped products, but just what is hyaluronic acid? Should you be using it? How? Does it even work?

Let’s break it down...

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The district of Hart in Hampshire has been named the best place to live in the UK for the fifth time.

The Orkney Islands off the coast of Scotland finished second in the annual Halifax Quality of Life Survey, which ranks UK districts based on their residents' health and life expectancy, wellbeing, earnings, and employment, as well as crime rates and weather.

Rutland in the East Midlands, Wychavon in the West Midlands and Winchester in Hampshire - last year's best place to live - completed the top five.

Hart in Hampshire, which has a total population of around 94,000 people, finished top partly because of it residents' good health and wellbeing. Some 97% said they enjoy good or fairly good health, and the district has the longest average female life expectancy in the UK: an impressive 86.7 years.

Hart also benefits from an average of 32.5 hours of sunshine a week - greater than the national average of 29.7 hours. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the average house price in the district is a hefty £419,231, approaching double the national average of £223,807.

Halifax's managing director Russell Galley said of the results: "Hart seems to have been offering residents an unrivalled mix of living standards for five of the last six years, seeing employment rates, average earnings and ONS (Office of National Statistics) personal wellbeing rankings bounce back after falling from the top spot last year. Along with Hart, many areas in southern England score strongly in categories including the labour markets and health. Northern areas tend to perform well on education and benefit from more affordable properties with lower house prices to earnings."

Below, check out the top 20 best places to live according to the Halifax Quality of Life Survey.

1. Hart, Hampshire

2. Orkney Islands, Scotland

3. Rutland, East Midlands

4. Wychavon, Worcestershire

5. Winchester, Hampshire

6. Wokingham, Berkshire

7. Waverley, Berkshire

8. Craven, North Yorkshire

9. Richmondshire, North Yorkshire

10. Stratford-on-Avon, Warwickshire

11. Uttlesford, Essex

12. Ryedale, North Yorkshire

13. Westminster, London

14. South Oxfordshire

15. St Albans, Hertfordshire

16. Tonbridge and Malling, Kent

17. East Hertfordshire

18. City of London, London

19. Chiltern, Buckinghamshire

20. Rugby, Warwickshire

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If you've re-watched Sex and the City recently, you'll know the iconic HBO show remains clever, influential and very funny. But it's also, in places, pretty problematic. Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha say things that probably felt OK when the series began in the late '90s, but just don't fly in the more enlightened pop culture climate of 2017. The show's main characters are also largely oblivious to their own privilege as rich cisgender white women with enviable careers living in super-desirable Manhattan apartments. In one episode, Carrie even found taking the bus to be a come-down.

Sex and the City fans Chelsea Fairless and Lauren Garroni, who run the excellent Every Outfit on Sex and the City Instagram account, are very aware of this. So they've created an awesome meme poking fun at the show's more problematic moments, and giving them a right-on rewrite in the process. Whenever Carrie, Miranda or any other character says something that now sounds downright unacceptable, "Woke Charlotte" shows them the error of their ways.

Remember when Charlotte's mother-in-law Bunny was horrifically racist? Or when Carrie was guilty of birasure? Or when Samantha casually uttered a transphobic slur? Woke Charlotte certainly does and she's not letting anyone off the hook.

Check out some examples of the #WokeCharlotte meme below.

On this deeply problematic holiday, #WokeCharlotte is here to remind us that racism is never ok and failing to address it directly is what allows it to continue. Plus, you know that Bunny voted for Trump. (S4/EP12) #CharlotteWokenblatt #BunnyMacDougal #ThanksgivingMuse #MandarinBaby #PearlMoment

A post shared by Every Outfit on Sex & the City (@everyoutfitonsatc) on Nov 23, 2017 at 1:05pm PST

#WokeCharlotte has no time for trans slurs or casual imperialism. She is also deeply offended by this entire episode, tbh (S3/EP18) #CharlotteWokenblatt #CheckYourPrivilege #TransAlly #SexWorkerAlly #Gentrification #WokeAF

A post shared by Every Outfit on Sex & the City (@everyoutfitonsatc) on Dec 13, 2017 at 9:51am PST

#WokeCharlotte has no time for Carrie’s overly simplistic view of human sexuality. Also, you know that Miranda is giving Carrie that side-eye because she’s low key bi. (S3/EP4) #CharlotteWokenblatt #Bisexuality #Intersectionality #RealTalk #Brunch

A post shared by Every Outfit on Sex & the City (@everyoutfitonsatc) on Nov 16, 2017 at 9:27am PST

#WokeCharlotte has become so popular on Instagram and Twitter over the last week or so that it's even gained approval from Kristin Davis, the actress who played Charlotte York Goldenblatt in the Sex and the City series and movies. I'll definitely raise a Cosmopolitan to that (as long as it was made with sustainable ingredients, of course).

Getting so much joy following @everyoutfitonsatc so i wanted to holler for all my #satc homies to follow. And omg I love #wokecharlotte soooo much. Thanks for the tip @halfxfiction!

A post shared by katywalter (@katywalter44) on Dec 14, 2017 at 5:04pm PST

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Apparently, Ugg footwear doesn't go down well when you're Down Under. Condé Nast Traveller reports that passenger Joanne Catherall learned this the hard way after she was allegedly denied access to the business-class lounge for Australian airline Qantas, where a staff member vetoed her plush sheepskin boots.

Catherall, a member of iconic synthpop band The Human League, tweeted details about the incident, which took place at the Melbourne Airport.

"Denied access @Qantas business class lounge in @Melair Melbourne Airport apparently Ugg boots are deemed sleepwear by the lady working there although no problem in any of the other lounges so far. Helpfully she suggested I go to one of the shops & purchase some shoes," Catherall tweeted.

Hi Joanne, we endeavour to remain consistent and uphold our Lounge's dress guidelines to all our guests . You may find details here: https://t.co/oiCgy2V1jR. Mark

— Qantas (@Qantas) December 14, 2017

Considering Qantas is an Australian airline and Ugg was founded by an Aussie, you’d think the company might want to flex a little national pride. As one user on Twitter pointed out in a photo, flip flops, beachwear, and gymwear are also considered unacceptable in the Qantas Club lounge.

As seen in @Qantas' SYD terminal 3 priority check-in. Thoughts? pic.twitter.com/DXXOPYJGW7

— JT Genter (@JTGenter) December 9, 2017

While the word “Ugg” isn’t clearly outright banned in the dress code policy, there’s an illustration encircling an Ugg-like boot with a large line through it. In the poster, the boot is also labelled “sleepwear” which is truly just... odd.

After Catherall’s first tweet, the airline responded with a tweet explaining that they endeavour to remain consistent with their dress code guidelines. That didn't appease Catherall, who pointed out the obvious in this tweet.

"Why would an @UGG boot I wear outdoors in all weathers be classed as sleepwear in @Qantas lounge, but nowhere else that I have ever been on this earth ?"

Why would an @UGG boot I wear outdoors in all weathers be classed as sleepwear in @Qantas lounge but nowhere else that I have ever been on this earth ? pic.twitter.com/G04kWSN4c4

— Joanne Human League (@Lubycat) December 14, 2017

In recent years Ugg has become possibly the most polarising footwear on the market. Popularized by Oprah thanks to her famous "favourite things" list and Paris Hilton in the early aughts, the cosy boot has in many circles postured as an emblem of conflicting ideas.

“What started out as a beachwear staple for men that grew into a cold weather must-have for women now acts as a divider in the fashion realm,” wrote Refinery29’s Landon Peoples in a recent story. “It separates the business casual from the Casual Friday, the autumn from winter, and — dare we say it — the 'basics' from, well, the rest of us.”

Tell us what you think in the comments. Uggs: an enemy of acceptable airport dress standards, or simply a comfortable way to travel?

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A few weeks ago and for the first time in over 20 years, I bought, made and consumed an entire bowl of Angel Delight. Butterscotch Angel Delight, to be precise, with an entire jug of full fat milk. That might not seem like something that should warrant an article, but the whole episode struck me as significant for the shame and embarrassment that followed.

Angel Delight, for whatever reason, is one of those foods I’d considered unthinkable for years. Partly because it is obviously targeted at children, but then I’m a 29-year-old woman who also counts Pom Bears and Ribena among her weekly necessities, so it couldn’t have been that. Also, it wasn’t the contents, which while bad, are no worse than half the other unhealthy things I consume on a semi-regular basis including wine, vodka, cheese and chocolate.

No, the certain nagging voice in the back of my head telling me Angel Delight was off limits came from somewhere else; somewhere deeper down, where bigger questions about my identity and my place in the world reside. It might sound grandiose but only now, 10 years after leaving home and finally having my own kitchen, am I able to reflect on all the ways that my diet has been shaped, for better or worse (but mostly worse), by the people I’ve encountered and the institutions I have been a part of. Only now, after periods of intense weight loss that have worried friends and family alternately, am I able to realise how class has also influenced my relationship to food. And only now, with enough hindsight and understanding, am I able to reflect on it all and to share the whole thing with you here.

I grew up as part of a working class family in Birmingham. My parents were both healthy and in spite of our limited financial resources, protected me from any sense of struggle and instilled in me an early love of vegetables and fruit. Of the many things they did for me, I am especially grateful for this and have been shocked to discover that many kids whose families were far better off, with far greater access to a wider range of healthy foods, wound up developing terrible eating habits.

My parents were also balanced. A real “cake if you eat all your greens, biscuits only after swimming” kind of family, which also instilled in me an appreciation for delayed gratification and is one reason, I think, that I have never been inclined towards addiction of any kind – drink and cigarettes I’ve always been able to take or leave. Our treats were never lavish but I do remember a few special occasions, like the time my mum treated me with a banana split covered in coloured sprinkles and chocolate sauce after I did well in a test. Food in this sense was a reward – for having worked hard and achieved something – and the same was true of the dinners, served up hot by whoever happened to get home earliest, for everyone at the end of a long, hard day. I think of these as halcyon days, when our relationship to food was at its best, its most healthy and certainly, its most balanced.

At university though, I learned another meaning of food – as something unruly and wild that a person needed to develop a firm hold over. I was 18 and studying among people far more affluent than me who, tellingly, were also all very slim. Here’s the other prejudicial thing about Oxford and Cambridge that goes unreported in accounts of their dire track record for admitting working class people and POC: There are barely any fat people. Paunchy rugby-type lads occasionally but never obese people, and certainly, very few overweight women. You’ll hear fascistic arguments about fat people simply being less intelligent as evidenced in their eating habits, which are so flawed I can’t even begin to start correcting them here. Truth is, the middle to upper classes are a cult of slimness and a lithe, sinewy, erect body is one way of being able to pick each other out of a crowded room. Whether conscious or not, for the time I was studying at Oxford there was no escaping the fact that a certain vetting of ‘unhealthy’ or ‘overweight’ people had occurred, and the sheer level of neuroses that used to swirl around every dinnertime seemed to also explain why.

We were students and yet we had several chef de parties constructing our three-course meals every night. I was in heaven – or so I thought – until my peers started turning their noses up, scoffing at the quality of the food and rejecting whole meals. They were spoiled, sure, but there was something else at play – a fear of excess leading to a lack of control over their appearances. The same applied in the supermarket, when it was frowned upon to buy budget foods, or in the café, when my more affluent peers thought nothing of taking a chunk out of my sandwich or cake – something I’d looked forward to – on the assumption that none of us, in our right mind, would ever eat the whole thing.

Being young I internalised these values, which only became more exaggerated the more time I spent with similarly affluent people after leaving university and entering the media bubble. I wasn’t a woman who ate Angel Delight after dinner anymore. In fact I didn’t eat anything after dinner. I barely even had dinner. Instead, I learned how to pace my day eating as little as possible and get through to evening, where alcohol at magazine and art parties numbed the sense of hunger. I was looking better than ever before, people told me. Finally the clothes I’d always felt I looked awkward in hung like they did on the models, whose white, blonde, middle class pedigree only seemed to become more pronounced throughout the 2010s (there were exceptions, but for some reason Joan Smalls and Jourdan Dunn seemed all the more exceptional than black models of the past, perhaps owing to just how ubiquitous the likes of Cara Delevingne and Georgia Jagger were).

I swapped cereal for chia seeds, bread for leaves and I became angry, irate, unpleasant to those around me until one day, forced by what seemed like anxiety and depression, I found myself seated in front of a therapist, who asked one, very simple question: Are you hungry?

Today I ask myself that question before making any big decisions, or acting on any of my feelings, and if the answer is yes, I feed myself. I feed myself whatever I want and if I start to notice my trousers getting a little tight, I consider going to the gym, safe in the knowledge that I’m beyond the judgment of people who I had nothing in common with in the first place besides proximity, and free, finally, to drown in a tub of delicious, sludge-coloured butterscotch Angel Delight without anyone passing comment.

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How many pills did you take this morning? Maybe you swallowed a multivitamin alongside your granola, or chased an iron tablet with a flat white. I palmed a cocktail of Coenzyme Q10, a probiotic, a dandelion leaf liver-cleanse capsule, a magnesium energy supplement and, just to test my gag reflex, a spoonful of fish oil. Most of us have flirted with supplements at one point or another. After a disastrous three-more-inches-off-than-expected trim, I took Viviscal until my hair grew back to Rapunzel lengths; on doctor’s orders, I’ve taken vitamin D in the winter months, and Feroglobin to stop me feeling faint. But beyond building stronger bones or boosting energy levels, the new generation of pills, powders and drinks promises more aesthetic benefits. Think glowing complexion, thicker hair, plumped-up wrinkles – benefits that, until now, have been restricted to lotions, creams and injectables.

"The appeal of nutricosmetics lies in the increasing pursuit of wellness. Immediate gratification and rapid effects remain powerful pulls for beauty, but attention is also shifting towards long-term wellbeing," explains Rebecca Smith, behavioural analyst at Canvas8. "It’s not just about exfoliating, moisturising and toning – what we eat and how we live are just as important to achieving a beautiful complexion." From collagen drinks (like skinade) to beauty cereal (such as Believe) to super-supplements (enter Lumity), diet is the next aesthetic frontier.

Maybe it began with swathes of Lycra-clad women downing grass-hued juices in the name of brighter skin, or with hot yoga promising to lengthen your limbs and clear your pores; either way, the pursuit of beauty has moved firmly into the holistic arena. Just look at renowned makeup artist Wendy Rowe ’s latest book – in its Tumblr-pink jacket, Eat Beautiful details soups, salads and juices to illuminate the skin. Similarly, LA-based Moon Juice – purveyor of 'plant-based alchemy' for mind and body – has expanded its offering with a range of beauty powders with names like Beauty Dust, Power Dust and, alarmingly, Sex Dust. Alexia Inge, founder of Cult Beauty, told Refinery29: "We’ve been stocking ingestible skincare since we first launched PerriconeMD eight years ago. At the time he was a lone voice advocating diet as an important factor in the health and subsequent beauty of your skin. It was pitched then as anti-ageing but that term is falling out of favour… now it’s all about energising! We recently launched Moon Juice because they are new-gen pioneers in their fields. The results they give are astonishingly quick."

Alexia’s not alone. With sales of vitamins overtaking painkillers for the first time in a decade and the market for nutricosmetics set to hit $7.2 billion by 2020, there’s certainly no shortage of options for the holistic beauty enthusiast. Beauty Beneath, a new supplement developed by Boots, is a combination of marine collagen, biotin and omegas 3 and 6, while Lumity, developed by a Cambridge-educated anti-ageing expert, tackles all signs of ageing with a twice-daily dose that promises to boost your collagen and human growth hormone production, as well as protect against free radical damage. In addition to Moon Juice, Cult Beauty has started stocking The Beauty Chef, whose powders do everything from hydrate the skin to cleanse. No time to pop a pill or mix a powder? No problem. Try the drinkable options from Canadian brand Fountain – with Glow, Beauty and Phyto-Collagen Molecules, you can swig a spoonful and be on your way.

This brings us to the real question: do any of these work? Supplements, by their ingestible nature, promise better results, on some level, than topical skincare. When you’re sick, your doctor prescribes you an antibiotic pill, not patch, for a reason. "Some things just can’t get through the skin’s surface," explains Joe Mitchell, global head of brand for Beauty Beneath. "Lines and wrinkles start deep beneath the skin’s surface, and some of the ingredients wouldn’t work applied topically." But just because something has proven efficacy in one area, it doesn’t mean it’ll work in another. As Harley Street doctor Dr. David Jack points out: "People hear buzzwords and then automatically associate these with a particular outcome. In reality, thanks to the physiology of nutrition, certain ingredients that are promoted as being helpful don’t actually work."

A good example of this is collagen. The protein, which gives your skin tensile strength and that plump, youthful quality, is a tricky little so-and-so. Collagen molecules are too big to work when applied topically – so don’t waste your money on expensive creams – and, when ingested, may not be sufficiently broken down by your digestive system to be utilised efficiently. One way to circumvent this is by using hydrolysed collagen, which is composed of smaller chains of amino acids that your body more readily absorbs – leading, in theory, to faster collagen production. The jury’s out on whether a (usually pricey) collagen supplement does this any better than a protein powder, but it certainly won’t do you any harm to take one. Dr. Jack had some more recommendations: "Glutathione [for skin-brightening] is one that previously was dismissed, but recent evidence from a randomised controlled trial has shown that oral ingestion can increase body stores significantly, and thus does have some benefit. Antioxidants like vitamin C, resveratrol and also omegas do have fairly strong evidence behind them."

The supplements I take as part of my daily routine were prescribed to me by VITL, a smartphone app that works out a bespoke dose for your needs based on a Q&A, and I’ve noticed my skin is softer after a few months of taking Bare Biology Lion Heart Fish Oil. Beauty Beneath is rich in vitamins, and Lumity will help to defend against free radicals and repair oxidative damage. Fountain’s Beauty Molecule packs an antioxidant punch thanks to the high resveratrol content, while the Hair Molecule will help build swishier locks (no one gets enough biotin, the vitamin that maintains hair health, in their diet).

But if powders, pill and drinks aren't your bag, remember: bone broth contains loads of collagen, red grapes and apples are stuffed with antioxidants, and chicken livers (sorry) are jam-packed full of anti-ageing vitamin A. Class dismissed.

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Artist Romily Alice Walden couldn't find anyone in the UK to teach her the art of neon bending, so she upped sticks and moved to Berlin. There she found a mentor to take her through the practice and, having honed her craft, has been making luminescent works ever since. "I've always been a really hands-on maker," she explains. In a time when our attention spans are limited and the finished outcome is infinitely more appealing than putting in the graft, there's something remarkable about self-taught artists. "If I want to make something, I really try and learn to do it myself. Why spend thousands of pounds learning to make it, when I could use that money to make it myself?"

Walden's neon women, often lit in shades of pink, are a subversion of the signs that plaster late-night strip clubs and Vegas joints. "I was really looking at the way in which the female body is portrayed in our culture. There are so many embodiments of pornography and sexuality." Social media has propelled the female body into another stratosphere, with advertising and exposure to celebrities more pervasive than ever before. But platforms like Instagram have also given women a new kind of agency – we're able to present our bodies in the way we want, rather than as subject to the male gaze. Does Walden think social media has helped or hindered her practice?

"It's really hard. Previously, budding artists were so dependant on someone influential choosing to uplift your work. Now, it's just as hard to get your work seen, but I do think you have a lot more options and agency on social media," she says. "If you aren't necessarily comfortable in the highbrow fine art world, people might be intimidated by galleries, but with Instagram they can enjoy art on their own terms."

While there are countless benefits to a digital art scene, such as democracy and diversity, social media platforms have raised questions about whether we can now produce a truly original piece of art. Walden sounds positive. "I think there's still work to be made. For me, if the answer is no and everything has been made, then what's the point in making anything else? Then we're left with a world where no one ever makes new art," she states. "I think art has always been derivative. Obviously now it's a lot easier to see lots of art very quickly and access these amazing back catalogues of every artist you can think of but I actually think that artists have always learned from and been influenced by other artists. I think that there's a strange thing happening in art being shared so much online – if you make a piece of art in a physical space, is it still art? I can be guilty of that too; if I see there's a show, I look at the social media of that show – which is crazy."

While many forms of art are unfortunately lost in the archives of Tumblr and Instagram – think how oversaturated the platforms are with Rupi Kaur's style of poetry – neon art is one medium you have to see IRL to enjoy fully.

With the glowing art becoming more and more popular, thanks to artists like Tracey Emin, it can now be found everywhere from hair salons and bars to churches (Emin's piece in Liverpool Cathedral feels transcendental in that setting). What's the appeal? "We're so desensitised to LED lights and laptop screens that I think there's something new and exciting about neon. It looks like magic." Humans are mammals, and seeing something so obviously not part of our natural environment always feels otherworldly. It's comforting to know that, despite living among blazing lights and TV screens, we're not immune to neon's enchanting effect.

You can check out Romily Alice Walden's work here, and catch more works like Romily's at the Affordable Art Fair in March 2018.

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