Life & Love

From the virus that brought you tie-dye sweatsuits, #WFH posts, and a stimulus check that barely covers the cost of existing, a new quarantine phenomenon has emerged from the shadows of the room you haven’t left all day: Zoom dating. The newest form of virtual romance essentially combines two of my least favorite things: first
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For Melissa, a 29 year old resident of Tampa, happy hours look much different now: They’re more frequent, start earlier, and she’s often alone. While she rarely drank at home without company before the coronavirus pandemic, now she reasons that “desperate times call for desperate measures.” And in that sense, Melissa is far from alone.
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“The biggest day on the internet ever,” at least according to Jumperoo62, a commenter on the British gossip forum Tattle.life, took place last November. The rabbit hole of a site where 53,000-plus members dissect the lives of influencers with the meticulous, if selective, attention of Renaissance cartographers was consistently critical and often cruel. The Tattle
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Decades before Fleabag snogged a priest, before a Snuggie-wrapped Liz Lemon dined on night cheese, and before Lena Dunham sat naked in a bathtub eating a cupcake on Girls, Aline Kominsky-Crumb was bringing the messy interior lives of women to life in her comics. As an underground comics artist in the 1970s, Kominsky-Crumb pioneered a
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The month of Ramadan is a time for social connection and celebration. It’s a time for religious reflection and volunteering, a time when we fast from food and water, as well as vices like anger, from sunup to sundown. I’ve celebrated in places as different as California, Jordan, and Washington DC. But no matter where
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“Casually dating during COVID-19 is like musical chairs,” says Vicky, a 38-year-old curator from Scotland. “Whoever you’ve been dating at time of lockdown is the one you’re stuck with.” There is no silver lining to the coronavirus outbreak. People are scared and sick and, more than anything, unsure about what’s to come. And it’s that
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My first husband was a plant. We were wed in my mother’s living room in Los Angeles, with a large Panasonic flat screen TV serving as the backdrop. I wore a bright red sari. Convinced that her 30 year old, still-single daughter was cursed, my mother had arranged the whole affair. She believed that I
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It started with a bouquet of flowers. They were delivered to my desk on a dreary Wednesday afternoon. They were excessive, over-the-top, bright red roses and waxy lilies shedding petals all over my keyboard. I had to dig through thorny stems to locate the card, which was scrawled with a saccharine message. You’d be forgiven
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In 2019, navigating the choppy waters of your love life was easier said than done. There’s the endless tide of dating apps. The fear of getting ghosted (and sneaking temptation to return the favor) persists. Even giving yourself some one-on-one intimacy has become marred by surveillance and, in some cases, animal interference. Luckily, ELLE columnist
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. Natalie Holbrook’s first Instagram post after her marriage ended was simple: three pink roses in a pitcher on a pale pine table. “When life gets crazy intense and stuff gets thrown all over everywhere,” the caption said, “pictures of flowers can help. I am hoping. Courage, knuckleheads!” Natalie’s followers assumed the post was about
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