This news comes three years after Gomez’s last studio album and one month after Bieber’s wedding. She also dropped two new music videos along with the singles, so obviously, there’s a lot to unpack. And yet we couldn’t stop wondering about her look for the “Lose You to Love Me” music video, which features Gomez in a very cute cardigan we’d very much like to snuggle up in post-heartbreak.
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Stylist Kate Young answered our questions (and prayers) by sharing the outfit credits on Instagram—and, as it turns out, Gomez’s cozy knit is from Free People.
Gomez’s exact cardigan retails for $128. It’s available in sizes XS to XL and in five different colors: lilac, black, teal, white, and petal pink.
Although the look is surprisingly affordable, it should come as no shock that Gomez would wear a sexy cardi, the sweater trend that nearly every celebrity has been spotted wearing this fall. She layered hers over a simple slip dress from Olivia von Halle, but there are countless ways to style this season’s most coveted knit—buttoned or unbuttoned, with vintage jeans and sneakers to slip skirts and thigh-high boots.
If you’re feeling Gomez’s “Lose You to Love Me” look—or Sexy Cardi Fall more broadly—shop 11 affordable cardigans below.
Grab your love ferns, people, because a reboot of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days is coming. Yes, according to a new article from the Los Angeles Times, Quibi, a streaming company that develops content exclusively for mobile phones, and Paramount TV are developing an adaptation of the classic Kate Hudson rom-com. Here’s the official description of the reboot, per an email from Quibi: “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days follows a glib young online columnist and an oversexed advertising executive who both need to prove, once and for all, they’re capable of being monogamous. They soon discover, however, keeping a relationship is harder than Andie Anderson made it look!”
Confusion around the phrase “oversexed advertising executive” aside, I’m deliriously excited about this project. Guy Branum, who worked heavily behind the scenes on The Mindy Project, has been tapped to write, so you know it’s in good hands. There’s no word yet, though, on whether Hudson or Matthew McConaughey will make appearances. They could be the bosses of said “glib young online columnist” and “oversexed advertising executive.” I’m just throwing out ideas!
And I have many, many more. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days is, hands down, my favorite romantic comedy of all time. It’s a near-perfect movie. Kate Hudson deserved an Oscar nomination for it. So I’m personally quite invested in making sure this reboot is incredible. Here are just a few tips for making sure that happens:
The spirit of the love fern must be present. Ideally, it’s an actual love fern, but I’ll accept a love ficus or love Venus flytrap.
Instead of Celine Dion, the “glib young online reporter” should trick the “oversexed advertising executive” into attending a Billie Eilish concert.
Hunter McGrady made history in 2017 as the curviest model—a size 16—to ever appear in Sports’ Illustrated’s swimsuit issue, amplifying her platform for body positivity and inclusive sizing. Ahead of her wedding, she opened up to Glamour about the pressure put on brides to lose weight, why she thinks that’s bullshit, and how she focused on feeling confident and excited—not thinner.
When I was younger, probably 18 or 19, I used to watch shows like Say Yes to the Dress, and Four Weddings and hear women say over and over “Well, this is great, but I’m planning on dropping about 30lbs.” I remember thinking, When did your wedding become your weight loss journey? Society is always trying to dictate what a woman’s body should look like and that’s especially true when women become brides. We’re told we have to lose weight, that our arms have to look a certain way, that we need to change everything about ourselves before we walk down the aisle.
Planning your wedding is supposed to be so much fun, but the emphasis placed on weight makes it tainted, stressful. I made a vow with myself and my fiancé that I would not get stressed over this wedding—so I called bullshit on the idea that I should lose weight for my wedding.
When I started dress shopping, one of the first questions sales people asked me was if I was planning on staying this size for the wedding. It made my heart sink. I walked in feeling confident and dreaming of a dress that was romantic and whimsical and suddenly all I could think was, Wait a second, should I lose weight? I even had salespeople say that they could cover certain areas to hide my hips or my tummy. Are you kidding? I want to accentuate my curves! Here’s another thing: we need to start educating the people that work in retail about how to speak to customers, because if they want to help, they need to do it the correct way.
Not every woman is ashamed of their body. We need to stop pushing that narrative.
The sizes on wedding dresses don’t help. In the wedding world, the number is actually higher than the sizes of your street clothes. I’m a size 16/18, but in a wedding dress I’m a 22/24, which is wild to me. As women, we’re constantly pressured to fit into a certain size. There’s so much pressure placed on the number inside your dress and we’ve been told our entire lives that larger numbers are bad—society has brainwashed us to believe that being anything larger in a number-size is worth freaking out about it, and that’s bullshit.
“I have experienced mental illness firsthand, and I’ve seen what it can do to the people around [the sufferers] as well,” the actor who plays Sansa on GoT tells Marie Claire. “[In my teen years] my metabolism suddenly decided to fall to the depths of the ocean and I started to get spotty and gain weight, and all of this was happening to me on camera.”
Unfortunately, people weren’t so kind to Turner as she was growing up in the public eye. In a podcast from two weeks ago, she talked about the comments she would receive from fans about her appearance. “People used to say, ‘Damn, Sansa gained 10 pounds,’ or ‘Damn, Sansa needs to lose 10 pounds,’ or ‘Sansa got fat,’” Turner revealed. “It was just a lot of weight comments, or I would have spotty skin because I was a teenager and that’s normal, and I used to get a lot of comments about my skin and my weight and how I wasn’t a good actress.”
Turner says therapy helped her deal with this pressure. “Everyone needs a therapist, especially when people are constantly telling you you’re not good enough and you don’t look good enough,” she also told the magazine. “I think it’s necessary to have someone to talk to, and to help you through that.”
Sophie Turner has often been transparent about her mental health journey. Just last month she told Dr. Phil on his podcast that she experienced depression in her late teen years—in part, she thinks, because she was living at home filming GoT while her friends were at college. She frequently turned to her onscreen sister, Maisie Williams, for support but admitted at one point their friendship had a “destructive side” because they spent time only together.
“Maisie and I used to [stay inside] together,” she told Dr. Phil. “I think being friends with each other was quite destructive because we were going through the same thing. We used to get home from set, go to a Tesco across the road, a little supermarket, and just buy food. We’d go back to our room and eat it in bed. We never socialized for a couple of years. We didn’t socialize with anyone but ourselves.”
For almost a week after the midterm elections, Senator Claire McCaskill (D-Mo.) built her diet on the unimpeachable foundation of “a lot of pasta and a lot of wine.” In a sense, the meals were a metaphor. Who cared if she was undisciplined now? She had lost.
McCaskill served two terms in the Senate and is now, in her last week, one of its few ardent centrists. She also comes from a state that voted for Donald Trump (with a 19-point margin) in 2016. In the months since the election, McCaskill has chalked up her defeat both to the almost insurmountable numbers (19 points!) and to how the debate over now-Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh several weeks before the midterms galvanized conservative voters. (“That got people lit up,” she told Glamour.) In a recent interview with the New York Times she blamed progressive women, too, whom she feels criticized her for her more moderate approach when in fact what she needed was their help to beat a far more conservative opponent.
But no matter what contributed to her loss, the fact remains that she leaves her office in an unusual moment. For centuries it’s been unremarkable to see a women out of power. So few ever gained it to later lose it. But in 2018, the tides turned.
Whatever the initial sputters about the size or momentum of the blue wave (or was it a rosier shade?) the midterms communicated one absolute truth: The women who’d electrified the resistance didn’t just want to take to the streets; these women wanted seats.
It feels grand, but not quite like an overstatement to declare that a new era will kick off in our nation’s governance next month when this class is sworn in. A record number of women will now serve in the House of Representatives and the Senate. A woman will be Speaker of the House, superlative outerwear in tow. Women make up over 50 percent of the Nevada State Legislature. And nine women won gubernatorial races.
PHOTO: Bloomberg
Heidi Heitkamp (R) and Elizabeth Warren (L) in the United States Senate.
But the wave didn’t just sweep women into positions of influence; it also carried a few out. In the House, Mia Love, a Republican from Utah, and Barbara Comstock, a Republican from Virginia, lost their seats. And in the Senate, it wasn’t just Claire McCaskill; Heidi Heitkamp (D-N.D.) was also defeated.
After decades of service, both leave the capital this week and prepare to return to districts that rejected their leadership. To some extent, the women are now in unchartered waters. So few women have ever won statewide offices and served in the Senate (a grand total of 52) that there’s not much of a model for what happens next.
For Heitkamp, the first order of business is acceptance. Her race had been an uphill climb from the start, given that Donald Trump remains popular in North Dakota and won that state with ease in 2016. But Heitkamp insists she was not at all prepared for to be beat, not because she was delusional about the odds, but because she had made it a point to remain optimistic.
“Don’t anticipate the blow. Don’t anticipate failure. Push all the way through with the idea that this is going to work out.”
She’s worked with countless women in her political career; ambitious, smart women whom she’s seen “gird themselves for defeat” before they’ve even exhausted their opportunities. “‘Well, if it doesn’t work out that’s OK,’ or, ‘I’m not going to let it devastate me if I don’t get this job,’ and I think that’s a mistake,” Heitkamp says. If she has advice to offer anyone in a similar situation, it’s this: “Don’t anticipate the blow. Don’t anticipate failure. Push all the way through with the idea that this is going to work out.”
Heitkamp admits that her tactics can make disappointment “a little harder” to endure, but the work itself is easier when a loss doesn’t feel inevitable. The world is hard enough on women who want to succeed, as Heitkamp puts it, and scores of people in positions of power who want women to doubt themselves. Don’t make it easier on them.
Now of course Heitkamp has all the time she could ever want to dwell and to recover and, much to her amazement, to clean. Immediately following the election, she watched such mindless television she can’t remember even what network it was on. “I was so tired. I had worked so hard,” she says. When she regained some sense of equilibrium, she decided to take out her sorrow on…her closets. “It’s cathartic,” she says. “It’s like, OK, all of this stuff that you’ve collected now and haven’t paid attention to and just stored somewhere—it’s time clean that out. It’s time to get rid of stuff.”
McCaskill, too, has decided to toss whatever she’s collected that she doesn’t need, although in not quite so literally. After she licked her wounds (pasta, wine, repeat), she tried to remind herself that, as she sees it, “it’s impossible to be a victim and a leader at the same time.” She could complain (and some would suggest that she has, at least in her most recent interview with the New York Times‘ The Daily), but she insists she’d rather hunker down and get back to work. She wants to mentor women who want to run for office. Her goal, she says, is to teach them “how to be better fundraisers, how to use a sense of humor, how to see themselves as winners.” And she wants to dispense with the niceties.
“When you’re in public life you always have to live defensively and be careful about how things appear,” McCaskill says. “But now I can kind of go for it. Now I can offend with reckless abandon.” To serve Missouri, she wasn’t in a position to speak out as much as she might have liked against President Trump, for example, and what she now deems his “tortured relationship with the truth.” Now she doesn’t need to hold back—when it comes to Trump or even Democrats whom she thinks haven’t well-served rural white voters. “That was no fun, being disciplined,” she says. “I am going to be so undisciplined now it’s going to be a hoot.”
PHOTO: Scott Olson
Claire McCaskill in November 2018.
Even over the phone, McCaskill sounds light and unburdened. But rejection is rejection. And both she and Heitkamp have had to narrate in public and in real time what that’s like.
Heitkamp has lost elections before. The first was when she was 28 and ran for state auditor. “It was a long-shot campaign,” she remembers. “I did it because I wanted young women to see that we had opportunities to run statewide races. I came really close, and so it didn’t feel like a loss.” Supporters told her she exceeded expectations and had a bright future ahead in politics. It was for Heitkamp a kind of “first introduction” to the people of North Dakota, and it felt good. She lost her bid for governor too, much later. It was 2000 and she was diagnosed with cancer in the middle of the race. When she didn’t win, she didn’t have time to dwell. Her aides had spent the last few months of that campaign watching her hair fall out, watching her get weaker and sicker. Less than 24 hours after the results came in, she had her head shaved. (As now, so too then—it was time to get rid of stuff.) Her children were little, and they didn’t care if their mother was a governor or not.
The point was, she recalls, “OK, you tried this. It didn’t work, but you’ve got kids to.” She wasn’t focused on win or lose. She was focused on live or die.
Heitkamp did survive and the disease gave her perspective on the drama of politics, and this recent loss. But her wince is almost audible as she thinks back to how the results were plastered across the front page of newspapers nationwide. “That level of public exposure—it makes the failure tougher,” she says. Not as a woman, but as a person.
It’s not harder to lose in the Year of the Woman than it was in 2000, they both agree. It’s not much easier, either, but perhaps it’s more peaceable. Heitkamp has watched women stream into Washington over the past few weeks, full of ideas and ambition. When she wanted to run for office, conventional wisdom held that women could either be unmarried and have a career in federal politics or would have to wait until their children were grown up to enter the arena. This election, despite the outcome for her and McCaskill, undid that rule. “What excites me is that when [girls] look at these women who have come up in this election, they can see themselves in 10 years or themselves in five years or themselves now,” Heitkamp says. “The bottom line is that’s exactly the message we need to be sending.”
Heitkamp is 63, and doesn’t plan to disappear from public view. She has more to contribute, and she knows it. But as a citizen and as a woman who was encouraged in her twenties to see a future for herself in politics, she can muster up some excitement for what the capital will look like without her: “I am so excited to see what these women bring.”
There’s no real plan and no more rules and no more staff or schedules. Heitkamp feels sad and a liberated too. Her to-do list is short. “There are issues I know I’m going to continue to have a voice on; it’s just not going to be from inside the United States Senate,” she says. And in the meantime? “Time to binge-watch HGTV, baby.”
Amanda Bynes was among a circle of female celebrities in the late 2000s and early 2010s who were unfairly scrutinized by tabloids. For a while, it felt like every misstep—or just human moment—from Bynes was captured by the paparazzi and splashed across blogs. Criticizing her behavior became a vicious (and lucrative) sport, but Bynes stopped supplying fodder when she enrolled in fashion school in 2014, effectively disappearing from the public eye. She gave a brief interview last year to Hollyscoop, where she opened up about her well-documented tweets and previous experiences with drugs. In a new story from Paper magazine, though, Bynes delves deeper into her past.
“I started smoking marijuana when I was 16,” the actress says. “Even though everyone thought I was the ‘good girl,’ I did smoke marijuana from that point on. I didn’t get addicted [then] and I wasn’t abusing it. And I wasn’t going out and partying or making a fool of myself… yet.”
Her drug use intensified a few years after. “Later on it progressed to doing molly and ecstasy,” she said. “[I tried] cocaine three times but I never got high from cocaine. I never liked it. It was never my drug of choice…I definitely abused Adderall.”
It was a mixture of drugs and insecurity that prompted Bynes to abruptly quit acting in 2010, leaving her in a “dark, sad” place. This is when she started tweeting messages to celebrities—including, infamously, Drake—that she’s now “ashamed and embarrassed” of. “I can’t turn back time but if I could, I would. And I’m so sorry to whoever I hurt and whoever I lied about because it truly eats away at me,” she says.
Bynes 100 percent credits substance abuse to her behavior in those days. “I really feel ashamed of how those substances made me act,” she says. “When I was off of them, I was completely back to normal and immediately realized what I had done — it was like an alien had literally invaded my body.” She adds, “I know my behavior was strange, so people were trying to grasp at straws” figuring out what was going on.
Bynes is now four years sober, about to start work on a bachelor’s degree, and has a positive outlook. “My advice to anyone who is struggling with substance abuse would be to be really careful because drugs can really take a hold of your life,” she says “Everybody is different, obviously, but for me, the mixture of marijuana and whatever other drugs and sometimes drinking really messed up my brain. It really made me a completely different person. I actually am a nice person. I would never feel, say or do any of the things that I did and said to the people I hurt on Twitter.”
She continues, “There are gateway drugs and thankfully I never did heroin or meth or anything like that but certain things that you think are harmless, they may actually affect you in a more harmful way. Be really, really careful because you could lose it all and ruin your entire life like I did.”
Read Paper‘s full interview with Amanda Bynes here.
