With vacation and the festival circuit right around the corner, it’s officially time to start thinking about swimwear.

No one prepares you for the heartbreak that comes from a relationship ending without a villain. We are taught to understand breakups through blame: someone cheats, someone lies, someone stops trying. There’s a narrative arc, a tidy explanation. Your friends gather around you with wine and righteous outrage and tell you all the reasons you’re better off without them. 

Perhaps the most effortless thing we can wear is ourselves.

After much anticipation, we’re happy to report: the girl group is back - and she’s ready to score.

Send the cold email- you might end up front row at New York Fashion Week.

Ella Katz, host of the podcast Taller Toddlers and a former ABC journalist, inspires her audience to embrace curiosity, stay playful, and pursue their passions without outgrowing their sense of wonder.

Among the New York Fashion Week shows, 7 For All Mankind stood out. When a certain walk and a show make this much noise across social media, you know an influence on trends will soon occur. “Welcome back, Jenny Humphrey” was plastered across my mind while watching the show: festival wristbands stacked on a silk glove, bags on top of bags, messy hair tucked into a dramatic roll-neck, slinky babydoll dresses with tights and costume jewellery.

We’ve all been there. Maybe it’s a slow Sunday where your to-do list is cleared off with no plans in sight. Maybe it’s supposed to be your busy day at school, and the tasks coming at you just won’t stop. Either way, what starts as a quick social media check and response to overnight notifications has become a full-on bedridden phone fest.

In high school, I was honestly always really confused about the whole sustainability movement in fashion. How does every brand have a “green” label? Wasn’t the problem that we were buying too much, too fast, and getting tricked by clever marketing?

Florals? For Spring? Groundbreaking.  Or so Miranda Priestly once famously said. Love in February? Who coulda predicted that? As we shed our January sweaters and begin to truly open up to the new year, February blooms and unfolds itself as January's evil twin.

We’re taught that attraction feels obvious. So, when a relationship looks right but feels muted, the diagnosis becomes internal. Not the connection, but you. I thought I was simply someone who didn’t want very much.

Have we forgotten how to have fun? This wave of overpolished selfcare is turning us into the ‘algorithmically optimised’ versions of ourselves and I for one am not okay with that. 

There’s something undeniably special about Galentine’s Day, a softness to it that feels both celebratory and intentional. It’s a reminder that love doesn’t only live in romance, but in friendships, shared traditions, and the moments we choose to make meaningful.

Even when I’m not looking, the reminder slaps me in my face when I’m feeling down because, apparently, Valentine's Day has comedic timing this year. The day always makes itself known on the street, online, in conversations I didn’t ask to overhear. It doesn’t demand attention; it assumes it. The truth is, behind the pretty pink hues and flower bouquets, it’s just a day dressed up to feel heavier than it is. 

What I was sulking about-who knows-but one can only assume it was the single-girl Sunday-night mood swings that still seem to get the best of me. What could this week possibly have in store that might medicate this sinister Sunday?

Whether it’s the influence of social media or a boom in consumerism, the holiday has transformed into an opportunity to embrace vibrant pinks and reds.

Small shifts through this month instead of huge reinventions and resolutions might be the way forward, as they reveal a stillness of just being with yourself and not huge, unrealistic expectations in a time of blues.

So, it got me thinking, can I make a reservation? The short answer to this question is yes. Here is a list of some of the SATC restaurants that are still open in NYC!

As I wake up for another day in New York City, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude to be greeted by the sounds of a city that never sleeps.

The standard rules of formal attire now take a backseat to the art of self-expression and individuality.