I have vividly dreamed of my wedding day, particularly my first dance, since childhood. I remember gathering my animals in a line and sending them down the aisle one by one on multiple occasions. Dance, to me, is a tying of souls. Really, my perfect scene only has two problems: first, I am not a very smooth dancer, and second, how are people outside of heteronormative gender roles supposed to partner dance?
As I’ve begun to explore the dynamic bookstores nestled in the nooks and crannies of Boston, I’ve had the privilege of uncovering some truly remarkable gems. Yet, none have left…
Bird’s Out of the Oven, and I’m Out of the Closet by isabella castelo Every year, when the holidays roll around, most people look forward to stuffing their faces, opening…
“Bananas, bananas, bananas.” I’m a sensitive person. The smallest thing can break my heart. If I let myself, I’ll cry for hours. But somehow, along the way, I’ve created a hard, emotionless persona for myself. After 20 years, there’s no going back, so I gnaw on my tongue and think about bananas…
it’s okay to not be okay by allegra gonzalez For this post, I’d like to make it a little more personal. For me, anxiety sometimes doesn’t just show up in…
“Too pretty for a job.” “I put the hot in psychotic.” “My iron level is lower than my standards.” These baby tees, adorned with ironic, often sarcastic phrases, have resurfaced with the Y2K revival, casting an odd shadow of humor over fashion. On one hand, they serve as subversive fashion statements supposedly intended to empower…
I have a Pavlovian reaction to L’Eau D’Issey. It was my ex’s favorite (and only) fragrance, and it’s like I’m transported back into his white-curtained bedroom whenever I get a whiff of it on the street…
There’s something about the first crisp morning in October that triggers an almost Pavlovian response in the perpetually single. Perhaps it’s the way scarves begin appearing around necks like relationship status indicators, or how every coffee shop suddenly transforms into a backdrop for potential romance…
He’s the sweet, bumbling “fixer-upper.” He’s a-dork-ably funny, and he never learned how to do laundry. His ineptitude is endearing at first, until you’re months into proving Freud right and teaching a grown man how to rinse the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher…