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'This Is Us' Season 2 Episode 13 Recap: So We Finally Learned How That Fire Started


Tonight’s This Is Us revealed something major: the cause of that fire. I know you’re anxious to find out what it is, so let’s get right to the recap. Brace yourselves for this one.

We open with two random older people cleaning out their garage. They’re selling their house, and the wife wants the husband to get rid of his junk. How they are connected to the Pearsons is a mystery at this point, but let’s check in with our usual players…

’90s Pearson Family

It’s Super Bowl Sunday in the Pearson household, and it’s obvious shit’s about to hit the fan. Jack is on the fence about starting his own business and also feeling temptation to drink again, which is why he built a huge wooden entertainment system to watch the big game. Randall’s having a girl over, Alison, to watch the Super Bowl, but he ditches before kickoff to catch a movie with her. I’d be annoyed if Kevin did that, but Randall can do no wrong in my eyes.

Speaking of Teenage Kevin, he’s being his usual horrible self about Super Bowl Sunday and college, scowling and copping attitude and making side-part Rebecca frown. Teenage Kate is in the final rounds of admission for Berklee and has to record an audition tape. Jack wants to film it on camera, but Kate’s like, “I’d rather die.” Same, girl. Geez, the tension’s already building, and I’m shook. No good can happen on Super Bowl Sunday! Teenage Kate implores Jack to stop talking about how beautiful she is because she doesn’t see herself that way. Oof. The takeaway from these scenes thus far is that Jack’s really pissing off his kids.

Teenage Sophie gets into NYU, and Teen Kevin’s mad about it. It causes him and his parents to get into a huge fight about college, and he literally says, “I was supposed to end up in the Super Bowl, not watch it, like you guys.” What. A. Monster. He storms out and goes to Sophie’s. If you’re keeping tabs, that makes two Pearson kids who’ve ditched Super Bowl Sunday thus far.

Oh no: Now Kate‘s ditching the Super Bowl, too. It’s now just Rebecca and Jack in the house. Jack asks Rebecca to be his partner in the home-flipping business he wants to start. (This would be the precursor to him owning a construction company.) She agrees, and they have vivid fantasies about their post-kids life with this new business. Their first clients are an older man and woman who have a one-family household. (Are these the same older people from the top of the episode, perhaps?) Holy shit. I’m bawling, because I know Jack’s about to die…but Rebecca doesn’t! They have sex. I’m terrified. Oh my God. Oh my God. These are genuine emotions I’m feeling. For This Is Us!

Kevin calls and apologizes to Rebecca, but says he doesn’t want to talk to Jack and doesn’t want to come home. Instead, he suggests that he and Sophie go to a “party in the woods.” Oh no. This is why you never go outdoors!

Adult Kevin and Randall

Randall is in way over his head with renovating William’s old apartment building, and Beth tells him this when they go meet the tenants. He agrees to all of these minor repairs and ends up being there for hours. Kevin’s there, too; he calls Randall to make amends post the DUI-Tess debacle and winds up helping him with the repairs. A group of women gather and watch sweaty Kevin knock down a wall, and I relate to that on a spiritual level. Randall thinks he’s doing a good job, but then a bunch of roaches come out of one of the walls he fixed. Whatever, I’d still let him rewire my entire apartment.

Kevin’s all into these renovations because he wants to stay sober. He and Randall have an intense, emotional conversation about how Jack’s been gone longer than they had him. It’s touching. Kevin was also wearing a tank top during this scene, so I’m pleased. Kevin alludes there are some people he won’t be able to make amends with, but hopefully he and Randall can make up. I hate when they fight, TBH. Randall has to send all the tenants to temporary housing while they spray the building for roaches. Beth reads him for filth for screwing up their gig so quickly because of course she does. I love her so much.

Cut to Adult Kevin going to Adult Sophie’s and talking about his addiction. She says the amends he wants from him is to just let her remember the times their relationship was good. She forgives him, but it’s clear this is the end of their time together. Kevin goes back to Randall’s apartment and finds a package addressed to him. In it is his father’s necklace—the one he left at that woman Charlotte’s house when he was drunk. He now can cross Charlotte and Sophie’s name off the list of people he wants to make amends with. There’s only one person left: His father. Oh boy.

Adult Kate

Kate thinks Toby’s watching porn on his computer, but he’s actually flipping through pics of dogs. He wants a dog, but knows that dogs are a “sensitive issue” for Kate. (Remember, Kate’s teenage dog played some kind of hand in The Fire.) But Kate decides to go behind Toby’s back and look for a dog, anyway. And she finds one! She starts the process to adopt it but backs out at the last minute, breaking down in tears at the animal shelter and literally apologizing to the dog. She then storms out. Kate ends up changing her mind, though, and getting the dog—despite the fact it will constantly remind her of Jack. What. The. Hell. Is. About. To. Happen?

The Fire

Everything from this episode led up to the final 10 minutes. Here’s what happened:

Kate’s listening to her Berklee audio tape, loud with headphones on. Randall is back from his date with Alison, and he tells Jack that they kissed. Jack starts doing dishes and putting food away. He then leaves a note on Kevin’s door saying he loves him and that he owes him and Rebecca an apology. Keep in mind that Kevin is now the only kid who isn’t at home.

The older man and woman from the beginning were actually Rebecca and Jack’s old neighbors. When they moved, they gifted Rebecca and Jack with a faulty crockpot. Jack turns off the crockpot when he’s cooking after the Super Bowl, but it accidentally turns back on in the middle of the night and causes a terrible, all-encompassing fire. The fire slowly but steadily starts moving up the stairs.

And that’s where the episode leaves us. Literally that’s it. I need an ambulance.

Parting thoughts: The next episode airs after the Super Bowl, and the teaser says “all our questions will be answered.” ? ? ?

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The Best New Clothing Brands We Learned About in 2017


Everybody.World

Everybody.World is an ethical, seasonless label for, as the name suggests, everybody—more specifically, a basics-inclined customer who wants their spending to support causes they believe in. Its signature Trash Tee is unisex, comes in five different silhouettes, and in a variety of colors; the brand also makes printed basics, sweatshirts, accessories, and home goods. Everything is manufactured from recycled cotton in U.S. factories. Inspired by real people, culture, and events, the founders, who spent a combined 26 years at American Apparel, are dedicated to making clothes that are comfortable, dependable, and eco-friendly.

Everybody.World

Everybody.World Gurls Talk Short Sleeve T-Shirt, $25, Everybody.World

Girlfriend Collective

Stylish activewear made from recycled water bottles? Well why not? Girlfriend Collective is an activewear label based in Seattle that champions sustainability and ethical prowess—but you may have already heard of it, from its viral “free leggings” promotion from last year. In 2017, the brand expanded its collection, all while maintaining its commitment to transparency: It lists its entire production process on its website, from a description of the factory it works with in Taiwain to how it discards water. You can rest assured that your sports bras, leggings, and tees (which come in shades like toasted apricot and powder blue are the real deal.



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What Cindi Leive Has Learned in 16 Years of Editing 'Glamour'


A decade and a half ago, I walked into my new office with a spare pair of heels and my Rolodex (heard of that?) to set up shop in what was pretty much my dream job: as the editor of the Glamour magazine (and it was only a magazine then; this was even before Facebook, folks). Now I’m about to pack up again for my next adventure, leaving this wonderful brand—which has me reflecting on where women were back then, where we are now, and what’s changed for the better or the…not so better.

If you believe the conventional wisdom right now, it’s a crappy time to be a woman. I get the pessimism: You can barely load your social feeds without encountering another story about rampant sexism in Silicon Valley/Wall Street/Hollywood; we all now know that having your boss ask you to give him a massage and watch him shower is not, as one would have thought, an unsettling scene from American Horror Story but just a regular Tuesday in the film world. The numbers are kinda grim too: Over the 16 years I’ve been at Glamour, Congress has gone from 14 percent to only 20 percent female; Fortune 500 CEOs are stuck at less than 7 percent. And as for the pay gap? Women still make 7 percent less right out of college than men with the same degree and background!

Dear world, to quote Miranda Priestly: By all means move at a glacial pace; you know how that thrills me.

But still, I’m an optimist. Partly because you have to be—why get out of bed otherwise? But partly because SO MUCH GREATNESS has happened over the last 16 years as well.

For one thing, women embraced the workaround, something we’ve always been good at. (I refer you to Deborah Sampson, who dressed as a man to fight in the Revolutionary War. She dug a bullet out of her own thigh to avoid being found out! Wait, is this not a comforting example?) Yes, big business may be bro-heavy at the top, so over the last decade, rather than tear their hair out railing against that, women have increasingly struck out on their own, with women-owned businesses growing at a rate five times the national average (making more money than the average too—yas, ladies!). Sure, film studios seem to be obsessed with the eleventh-grade-male audience, so talented women creators have headed to TV, where the odds that you’ll find a female director are now 13 percent higher than at the movies. You get the picture: For every closed front door, there’s a woman climbing in a ­second-story window in tennis shoes and a DGAF T-shirt.

All of that’s good news. But honestly? To me, the real change from 2001 to 2017 is in our attitude as women: our willingness to say how we feel, live how we like, and ask the world to keep up. Glamour has always prided itself on taking on a wide range of subjects. Over the last year alone, our team has covered the opioid epidemic, racial injustice, the attempts to defeat Planned Parenthood, and yes, the wage gap; while we are sometimes admonished to “stay in our lane,” our lane is women, so that means both lipstick and legislation are on the table. But some of the work I’m proudest of has started with you, our readers—who have urged us more and more each year to represent women fully and without judgment. When I look back at our ­covers of five years ago, I’m startled to see we used words like diet and skinny, terms I’d no longer employ, in part because of your loud cheers for language and images that project strength and inclusion. And your passionate feedback about Malala Yousafzai, whom we honored as a Woman of the Year in 2013, led us to start The Girl Project, an initiative for girls’ education that has now supported women in over 100 countries.

You’ve also pushed me personally. Years ago I wrote an editor’s note about style and included a picture of my five beloved great-aunts, all in sleeveless dresses, with a caption I thought was funny about how now I knew where my upper arms were headed. A reader emailed to chastise me. She thought my arms were fine, she wrote; why had I run myself down and invited others to be critical? I took her words to heart. We women are given to self-deprecation, either by habit (“this old thing?”) or as a tactic to keep others from finding you braggy (something men never worry about, but I digress). This rarely serves us well, and I resolved after that letter to stop. Why give the world a script to use against me?

I think if we’re going to get anywhere as women, it’s on all of us to support one another in real, not-just-a-hashtag ways and, like that reader, to respectfully call one another on our stuff. (We all have stuff.) Give compliments publicly. Take compliments publicly. Get behind women who speak out about their experiences. Rather than just think, Wow, she’s brave, ask her, “How can I help?” Once you are a boss—congrats!—wield your honcho powers wisely on behalf of other women, and take a tough look at your own biases. One seriously feminist business owner I know told me she recently realized that she had been checking women’s references more scrupulously than men’s, as if on some unconscious level she trusted men more. Each of us has hang-ups, so for your ­sisters’ sakes, examine yours.

My point: We all have to be leaders. Back in my early days at Glamour, on an indelibly sunny September day just weeks into the job, I found myself packed into a conference room with my colleagues, silent with disbelief as we watched the Twin Towers fall on TV. One staffer sat at my feet, and as he began to shake with sobs, I remember rubbing his back feebly, wondering what to do and when someone would show up to help us do it. In that moment I realized, of course, that I was supposed to be that someone, meant to calm and soothe and determine next steps. But what did I know?

I don’t know if I did my best that day, though our coverage of the female heroes of 9/11 gave our staff purpose during the dark weeks that followed. But I do know that was the day I began to truly feel like someone responsible for others. We all are, of course, and I hope our our Women of the Year show you the wildly diverse ways it can be done.

I’ve loved being in conversation with all of you over these last 16 years, and I don’t intend to stop. But my hopes for the world 16 years from now are simple. That we will have leaders who respect, value, and frequently are women. That my self-driving car will be able to parallel park better than I do. And that you—all of you—will be able to walk through any front door you want, knowing that inside there’s a massive party of other women ready to hand you the champagne and celebrate.



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'This Is Us' Season 2 Episode 1 Recap: We Just Learned Something Huge About Jack's Death


You’ve been waiting for months, and it’s finally here: This Is Us season two! Yes, America’s favorite form of catharsis is back (and weepier) than ever. I’m still reeling from all the info revealed in this premiere, so let’s just dive right in, shall we?

The episode opens with some familiar—but, damn it, so effective!—emotional pull tactics: Randall’s late father, William, is writing a book of poems for his son as Rebecca drives the teenage Big Three to a diner where Jack (and his goatee) are waiting. Remember, Rebecca and Jack got in a huge fight last season because that random dude from Rebecca’s “band” kissed her. Well, it turns out they didn’t resolve their differences because Jack’s temporarily moving to Miguel’s remote cabin, which is only just a little bit creepy.

The kids are (rightfully) pissed. Teenage, hickey-covered Kevin asks Rebecca and Jack if they’re getting a divorce; they say no, which I don’t exactly believe. The Pearson family is in complete shambles at this point, and I’m sad about it. I’m also bored. This episode is kind of dull so far?

At the cabin, Jack’s complaining to Miguel about the state of his marriage while making a depressing futon. He tells Miguel not to put sheets on his bed because “sheets are for long-term guests.” This is both gross and unnecessary. Jack insists Rebecca will call him to make up, but I bet $1,000 that she doesn’t call until episode five because this show loves to Drag. Things. Out.

Cut to Rebecca eating breakfast with the Big Three teenagers alone. No one’s talking, so Rebecca suggests they go see a Tom Hanks movie because…that’s the answer to all family disputes? I mean, maybe she’s right? Should I go watch Terminal the next time I fight with my mom?

In a flashback from last season, we learn teenage Randall—the best teenager by a mile—knew about the fight Jack and Rebecca had. He warmly offers Rebecca some candy during the Tom Hanks movie, and Kevin made a sick incest joke about this that I’m just going to blaze past. Teenage Kevin is low-key the worst, but I definitely would’ve had a crush on him in high school because I’m a masochist.

“We’re gonna give ourselves over to Tom Hanks,” – Rebecca

As always, the adult Big Three stories are more interesting. Randall, Kate, and Kevin are all turning 37 this year—this show loves a good birthday theme!—and their issues are more intense than ever. Randall wants to adopt a son, but Beth isn’t here for it. In fact, she’s so not here for it that she reads Randall for filth inside the adoption agency, saying that he only wants to do this to rectify his own childhood. Honestly, I lived for this shade. RuPaul would’ve been proud.

Sharing a cigarette in the parking lot, Randall says his adoption bug isn’t going away and Beth needs to get on board. Hmmm, not the best communication strategy, Randall (but he looked hot AF in this scene, so I’m good).

“I’m not throwing down with you in an adoption parking lot,” – Beth, living icon

Adult Randall visits Grandma Wig Rebecca to learn more about his adoption. Rebecca says she originally wasn’t down with adopting Randall, but she came around. She frowns approximately 6,000 times in this scene, which is strange because her monologue is supposed to be hopeful. Either way, I’m crying, so this friggin’ show is doing its job.

Meanwhile, Adult Kevin is in L.A. filming what looks like the worst movie alive. I think he’s proposing to a robot in it? His girlfriend, Sophie, was supposed to come out and visit for his birthday, but she can’t because of her mother’s M.S. Sophie seems more upset about missing potential Kardashian sightings than seeing her boyfriend, which I understand 100 percent. Kevin then makes some eerie joke about Sophie not sweating missing this trip because the Kardashians are like “Gremlins.” “By next week, they’ll be a bazillion more of them,” he says. This is very ironic given, ya know, this week’s news.

Adult Kate wants to sing, and, honestly, the world needs a pop star like her. I want her to release an electro-pop banger and have it climb the charts. She has to start small, though, so she attends a minor singing audition on her birthday but bails when she sees the skinnier, more conventional-looking competition. A totally understandable reaction—but for some unacceptable reason this angers Toby when she tells him. He has no right to police her emotions! And, more importantly, he’s ruining the fancy L.A. dinner Kevin planned for the two of them. He rented out an entire restaurant! That’s some fancy-people shit!

Toby and Kevin get in a huge, cringe-y fight about who should be “taking care of” Kate. It’s gross, and thankfully Kate steps in to proudly announce she doesn’t need any scrub to push or coddle her. She then goes back to the audition to “wipe the floor with those bitches.” Yes, that’s a literal line she said, and I’m squealing.

“The sexiest thing about you is how sexy you make me feel,” Kate, on Toby (aww, but also meh)

She goes to the audition, sings, and the male director blows her off. At first, Kate thinks it’s because of her size, and she claps back at the director with an incredible monologue. But he then lets Kate hear the backup singer for the gig, and she’s, like, a million times better than her. So, no, she didn’t get the job, but it’s because of her ability—not her size. TBH, I’m here for this twist.

Kevin explains that he has a hard time letting go of his sister because being a great brother is the only thing he’s naturally good at. This is sweet, but a little weird because he’s 37. Also, he was brilliant in The Manny, so this is a straight-up lie.

In the plot twist everyone saw coming, Beth finally comes around to the adoption, but she has one request: They need to adopt an older kid who the world has turned its back on. Honestly, this is such warm, surprising development in their storyline, and I have nothing snarky to say about it. Beth and Randall are the best.

“We’re perfectly imperfect,” Randall, on his relationship with Beth

Meanwhile, back in the ’90s, Jack goes to the bar Rebecca used to sing at and asks if there’s any room in the lineup for a solo female act. The bar owner says no because it’s the ’90s, but honestly if he heard Mandy Moore’s “In My Pocket,” he’d change his mind.

Then, Rebecca actually goes to Miguel’s sketchy cabin to talk to Jack. She says she’s upset and shouldn’t have let him leave. Apparently, Jack’s been drunk for “weeks,” and he admits he has a problem that he needs to handle before coming home. He says he needs to fix this on his own and slams the door—but Rebecca says they’ll fix it together. OK, this is a genuinely poignant scene, and I’m tearing up. Mandy Moore and Milo Ventimiglia have amazing chemistry.

But wait…we just panned to the teenage Big Three at a later date, and Kevin’s wearing a full leg mask. WTF?! And the Pearson house is completely destroyed from a fire! WTF again?! And Rebecca’s crying! What’s happening? Does this mean Jack…died in the house fire? The episode, of course, fades to black before answering anything. And just like that I’m hooked again. Ugh, Dan Fogelman and his tricks.

Parting thoughts: They’re really going to drag out Jack’s death, aren’t they? Whatever. I’m here for it.

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