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Prince Harry Wants You to Just Call Him Harry From Now On


Guess it’s not just the HRH title and the word royal that Prince Harry’s letting go of. He also wants to drop the word Prince, too—at least, that’s what a recent engagement suggests.

During his first event since returning to the U.K., the Duke of Sussex revealed he’d like to be on a first-name basis with…the entire world. Harry attended the Travalyst sustainable tourism summit in Edinburgh, Scotland on Wednesday, February 26, when the summit’s host, Ayesha Hazarika, introduced the person sixth in line for the British throne as “Harry.”

“He’s made it clear that we are all just to call him Harry,” said Hazarika in a video posted by Rebecca English, a royal correspondent for the Daily Mail. “So, ladies and gentlemen, please give a big, warm, Scottish welcome to Harry.”

Meghan Markle and (Prince) Harry recently revealed their entire royal exit plan, including giving up their use of the term royal, keeping their security detail, and closing their offices in the royal court. “We had hoped to be allowed to share these details with you sooner (to mitigate any confusion and subsequent misreporting),” they explained on their website.

The couple will still reportedly be making regular trips to the U.K., including for Princess Beatrice’s upcoming wedding in May. Us Weekly reports that the couple is definitely on the guest list.

It sounds like everything is going as smoothly as possible for all parties involved, including Kate Middleton, who is reportedly “so happy” with her added responsibilities. Now it’s on the rest of us royal reporters to remember to drop that whole prince thing every time Meghan and Harry do…well, anything.

My face when I learned Prince Harry was dropping the Prince…

BEN STANSALL

Maybe if he moves to Los Angeles, Harry will take a page out of Brad Pitt’s playbook and start wearing handy dandy name tag. Wouldn’t that be incredible?



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Francesca Hayward on Cats, Living Without Regrets, and Getting a Phone Call From Meghan Markle


“And snacks! I’m always snacking. It’s difficult obviously because when you’re dancing I can’t always have a huge lunch because then I’m jumping around. I love bananas, I love almond butter, nuts, and definitely chocolate. Everyone knows that I’m not very nice when I’m hungry.”

And the rewards for her work are fun. The fanciest part is the clothes. “I’ve been very fortunate to be wearing some Chanel lately, that was like my Pretty Woman moment, walking out of Chanel with some bags of clothes,” she says. “And a lot of Bottega Veneta, which is one of my favorite designer right now. And I wore a Simone Rocha dress to the Fashion Awards in London.”

And what about, you know, the fact that she just filmed a movie with an entire awards season’s worth of celebrities? I asked Hayward who made her the most star-struck, and I expected her to spit out some platitude, like “They were all so impressive!” or “I can’t choose!”

“Definitely Dame Judi Dench,” she said, immediately. “I remember her walking in with Ian McKellan, they walked in together in rehearsals, and the whole room, all the dancers and the actors, everyone made this line, to kind of curtsy or bow to royalty.” She paused, seemingly in wonder, and I imagined Jason Derulo curtsying to Judi Dench.

“There’s something about them, especially in England, they’re like the royal family, they’re legendary. And they’ve earned that legendary status,” she said, reverently. And Taylor, too—“She’s just the sweetest and most humble person,” Hayward said. “To be one of the most famous people in the world and make you feel very comfortable is quite a talent I think.”

To be fair, Hayward’s sense of comfort around A-list celebrities may be skewed. One day on the set of Cats, she received a phone call from British Vogue editor Edward Enninful, asking if she would be one of 15 women on a cover with the theme “a force for change.”

“It was one of the hardest secrets ever, I think I only told my grandma, and she was sworn to secrecy,” she says, laughing. She did the shoot, in which she spoke decisively about feeling pride in being a woman of color in the ballet world, while adding, “I think it will be great for the next mixed-race or black female principal dancer if she doesn’t have to be asked about that. In ballet, it doesn’t matter who you are.”

Later, Enninful called her while she was at a noisy restaurant in Covent Garden, and told her there was someone who wanted to speak to her. It was Duchess of Sussex Meghan Markle, who had personally chosen Hayward for the cover and wanted to say thank you. “She really made me feel like she wanted me to be a part of it and had chosen me as one of this amazing group of women herself,” Hayward said. “It was incredible.”

And if there’s anyone you could not resent for being personally thanked by Meghan Markle for agreeing to be on the cover of Vogue, it’s Francesca Hayward, who gets up before dawn to pursue her dreams, leaves behind no regrets, goes to the pub, and bows before Judi Dench. We wish her good snacks—and plenty of sleep.

Jenny Singer is a staff writer at Glamour.



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Emma Watson Has a New Term for Being Single: 'I Call It Self-Partnered'


The world watched Emma Watson grow up on screen as Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter, and soon she’ll be seen on screen as another iconic literary character: Meg March in Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s beloved novel Little Women. It’s a role that’s very fitting for where Watson is at in her life right now: a woman about to turn 30 who’s developed a successful career on her own terms.

And in a new interview with British Vogue, Watson opened up about how this milestone birthday. It appears she’s feeling a little on edge, in part because she “had all these ideas” about what goals she might have accomplished by 30. “I was like, ‘Why does everyone make such a big fuss about turning 30? This is not a big deal…’” she tells the magazine. “Cut to 29, and I’m like, ‘Oh my God, I feel so stressed and anxious. And I realize it’s because there is suddenly this bloody influx of subliminal messaging around. If you have not built a home, if you do not have a husband, if you do not have a baby, and you are turning 30, and you’re not in some incredibly secure, stable place in your career, or you’re still figuring things out… There’s just this incredible amount of anxiety.”

The actor also opened up about her relationship status—and her anxiety around it. She’s even using a new term to describe being single. “I never believed the whole ‘I’m happy single’ spiel,” she says. “I was like, ‘This is totally spiel.’ It took me a long time, but I’m very happy [being single]. I call it being self-partnered.”

Self-partnered. It’s an apt term for an activist like Watson, who says her favorite part about her Little Women experience was filming with women like Streep and Dern. “What was really nice about working with Laura Dern and Meryl Streep was that the three of us knew each other way before we did Little Women,” she tells British Vogue. “We met in activist spaces, so we had this allyship and solidarity as activists that had been part of a certain movement before we ever worked together.”

While many parts of Watson’s life are quite different than most of ours, the feeling she describes about turning 30 and her relationship status is so relatable. Kudos to Watson for opening up about her feelings, and a serious slow-clap for my new favorite term: self-partnered.



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Don't Call Lizzo 'Brave' for Being Confident


Every pop star has a career-defining performance. For Madonna, it was “Like a Virgin” at the 1984 MTV Video Music Awards. For Britney Spears, it was “I’m a Slave 4 U” at the same show, 17 years later. And for Lizzo, inarguably 2019’s buzziest breakout star, it was “Truth Hurts” at the BET Awards this past June.

Clad in a bridal getup and flanked by 11 dancers, also dressed in white, Lizzo delivered a spellbinding rendition of her smash hit, which reached number-six on Billboard‘s Hot 100. She sang live. She danced. She played the damn flute (which, if you’re a Lizzo fan, shouldn’t come as a surprise). Her performance was so good Rihanna herself gave it a standing ovation.

Fans are still talking about it months later. Just look at these YouTube comments as proof. They’re all positive—or at least, that’s the intention—but there’s a caveat. See if you can figure it out:

“Lizzo is the proof y’all. A confident woman is always the most
attractive person everywhere.”

“Wow, she sang, rapped, danced, twerked, and then played the flute
whilst twerking and yelling ‘Bitch!’ She’s amazing and I wish I had
her confidence.”

“Once I get Lizzo’s confidence, it’s over for all y’all”

“She makes me feel confident about my body. If that sounds offensive,
I don’t mean for it to. I love her.”

“I love how much confidence she has. it blows me away and I hope she
keeps it up. She is so beautiful and strong. It’s inspiring.”

Each one of these remarks seems to express surprise at Lizzo’s confidence, as if it’s something that shouldn’t be inherent. When Madonna and Britney delivered those aforementioned performances, people didn’t marvel at their strength. As thin women, our culture expects them to have a certain base level of confidence. Meanwhile, it’s viewed as shocking or novel when a plus-size woman, like Lizzo, displays the same agency.

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“When people look at my body and be like, ‘Oh my God, she’s so brave,’ it’s like, ‘No I’m not,'” Lizzo, 31, tells Glamour. “I’m just fine. I’m just me. I’m just sexy. If you saw Anne Hathaway in a bikini on a billboard, you wouldn’t call her brave. I just think there’s a double standard when it comes to women.”

A byproduct of Lizzo’s meteoric rise to fame is that she’s become a face of the body positivity movement. She embraces it, but wishes people would stop thinking it’s miraculous for a plus-size woman to have confidence.



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Mariah Carey, Queen of Being Extra, Did the Most to 'Find Her Light' for a FaceTime Call


Whether you’ve pre-coordinated outfits with your pals ahead of a girls’ night out photoshoot or staged a precise coffee/pastry/book shot just so, we’ve all gone the distance for the ‘gram at one time or another. But a look at Mariah Carey‘s recent tweets suggest that the singer may come in first place for Doing the Absolute Most for a photo.

On Friday (July 5), Mimi shared a photo from what looks like a Fourth of July celebration with a popcorn machine. Standard fare for a celebrity barbecue (we suppose) or a neighborhood street fair, until you get a look at how she posed with the object.

Instead of standing next to or in front of the popcorn maker, Carey’s squatting down next to it with her phone held high in the air (and in a bodycon dress and heels—which is something of an athletic feat, in my opinion). Apparently, said popcorn maker had optimal lighting for what looks like a FaceTime call: “Finding my light,” she captioned the picture.

It’s maybe the first time someone has used an old-timey snack machine to hit their best angles. I’m not sure I believe there was no other way for Carey to find her light, but her Lambs thought it was a revolutionary move.

Carey’s Fourth of July festivities weren’t all about MacGyver-ing the perfect light. After sharing her popcorn picture, Carey posted three photos in the same red dress—this time, with her children and only the sun to illuminate her photoshoot. “Dem kids agreed to get off the bouncy house for a minute to take a quick pic with mommy on Fourth of July,” she wrote.

Whether you already have a selfie light on your phone or not, you have to commend Carey for getting creative with her lighting options over the holiday weekend.

Halie LeSavage is a contributing writer at Glamour. Follow her @halielesavage.





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I Have a Brain Aneurysm—I Call Her Annie


You never really imagine seeing your name and the words “death,” “coma,” and “paralysis” on the same page until you do—until you get a letter from your neurosurgeon that says all of those things alongside the words “brain aneurysm.” Then, it’s like freezing, cold water running over your naked body. Even though the stated likelihood of such things happening is astronomically low. Because for anyone with a genuine interest in being alive, any likelihood of death is already way too high.

I rang in the new year with weird headaches: inside my head, it felt like little tumbleweeds made of needles were rolling around my brain every time I coughed, or laughed. I’d literally have to stop and freeze mid-giggle to allow them to pass. I pushed my neurologist for an MRI because your girl was not about to go down like this. That’s when we found a pretty large aneurysm chillin’ in my brain, a few inches behind my right eye.

My first thought was that I had to give my aneurysm a name, a personality, some flare to make her exciting. I call her Annie.

You may think this is an odd reaction to finding out you are a 23-year-old with a brain aneurysm, but if Annie the Aneurysm is living in my brain rent-free, I’m at least going to have a bit of fun with her. I figure Annie is probably a white lady with a lot of problematic but well-meaning thoughts who would probably ask to speak with your manager. She definitely doesn’t like alcohol or drugs (especially cocaine), and she’s a stickler about high blood pressure and cholesterol. Annie certainly wasn’t invited to my brain (is Annie ever really invited anywhere?) but she clearly doesn’t mind crashing a party. I can’t really blame her—between social justice musings, Bad Bunny verses, and enchilada cravings, my brain must be a grand ol’ time.

My neurosurgeon explained that a lot of people have their own Annie—in the most comforting of voices, he made it clear that unruptured aneurysms are common, very much treatable, and not something over which I should lose much sleep. Yeah, okay sure. But if Annie decides to throw a rager and pop, it could be deadly. My neurosurgeon explained that I have an estimated 3 percent likelihood of rupture in the next five years—30 percent in the next 20 years. Annie’s gotta go.

When I took Annie for a photoshoot (aka an angiogram), to learn exactly when we could schedule this farewell party, my neurologist learned Annie was bigger than we thought. She’s even sprouted a mini aneurysm of her own. Though the initial plan was to send a teeny tiny catheter into the artery near my hip, route it through my blood vessels, into my brain, and straight into Annie’s crib, I’m now debating between a version of this procedure and open-head surgery. Because I’m only 23, and because I want to get rid of Annie once and for all, a part of me is leaning toward the open-head surgery in hopes of limiting the farewell parties to just one.

Either surgery won’t happen for a bout a month—in the meantime, Annie is still here, cozied up in my head. Since she arrived, I’ve been getting rather existential. Even after my doctor explained the plan of action, seeing it all in print in the letter he sent me was still a little jarring. I re-read one statistic my neurosurgeon included: approximately one in a thousand people are likely to die or to experience permanent disability from aneurysm treatments.

Instead of freaking out, I decided to hold and respect the possibility that it could be me, that I could be that one. And, if this were the case, my body’s inability to fend for itself would not have been the result of poor medical treatment. Having lost a sister to cancerous brain tumors when I was very young, I have never really seen doctors as saviors, nor seen death as a choice. We are all headed in the same direction—whether Annie pops and gives me a mean ‘lil stroke or whether I meet some other finale, it’s an end that we will all eventually meet.



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