The invisible fence that divides highbrow and lowbrow is largely imposed by money, those we admire, and our own social conditioning.
Superman whomst? Lois Lane outsold.
My first unkosher months weren’t especially guilt-ridden; if anything, it was the closest I had felt to coming of age.
It’s difficult to enter an anxiety spiral while cross-stitching. Believe me, I’ve tried.
When my dad was incarcerated, I began noticing specific tropes that reinforce a cultural narrative about prison all around me.
In Q Hayashida’s wild, imaginative artwork, I found the freedom to see beyond my surroundings, all on my own.
As a preteen, I’d absorbed this dynamic—a teen girl dating adult men—as totally normal because it was embedded in the show’s wholesome package.
In a theater, I am freed by the voices that shake the rafters, the dancing, the lights, and the colors. Musicals are my form of catharsis.
Fifteen years after it premiered, ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ continues to teach ambitious young people that exploitation is the price you must pay for success.
When stage shows went virtual, traditional directors declared that the form was “dead.” They are extremely wrong.