Hace tres largos años desde que el mundo escuchó por última vez sobre Rosé. En 2021, la integrante de Blackpink inició su primer proyecto solista, R, que presentó los sencillos “On the Ground” y “Gone.” Un éxito al instante, prosperó no solo por la fama de Rosé en el K-pop, sino también por la fortaleza y versatilidad de sus dulces voces, aplicadas aquí a sonidos de rock indie y electro-pop.
Ahora, la cantante se está preparando para lanzar su primer álbum de estudio completo, Rosie, el 6 de diciembre—y para ofrecer a sus fanáticos un adelanto, ha lanzado su primer sencillo, “Apt.,” con la colaboración del ícono pop Bruno Mars. A diferencia de sus sencillos de debut más íntimos, “Apt.” es una canción pop completamente desarrollada que hará que los fans canten a coro mientras suena en la radio. (Piensa en “Hollaback Girl” de Gwen Stefani, con ese puente pegajoso—“B-A-N-A-N-A-S!”—pero cambiando las palabras por “¡Apartamento! ¡Apartamento!”)
¿Pero qué significa realmente su título? Rosé explica en exclusiva a Vogue que la canción fue inspirada por su juego de bebidas coreano favorito, Apartamento. “Recuerdo volver a casa [desde el estudio] un poco asustada. ¿Está bien, que haya escrito una canción sobre un juego de bebidas?” dice ella. Confundida, pidió a su equipo que borraran la canción de sus teléfonos—solo para darse cuenta de que ya estaban obsesionados con ella. (Para honrar las raíces coreanas de Rosé, a lo largo de la canción tanto ella como Mars mantienen la pronunciación coreana de apartamento, apateu, o 아파트.)
Rosé y Bruno Mars.
Foto: John V. Esparza/ Cortesía de Atlantic Records
Bueno, es oficial: el mundo desprecia el amor. Es algo que he sospechado durante mucho tiempo, no solo porque la escena de citas moderna parece tan rota, sino también por la reacción cada vez que una pareja feliz y famosa es fotografiada en público junta. Normalmente, lo que sigue es una serie de memes, análisis hipercríticos y tweets que destripan el estilo y el lenguaje corporal de la pareja. Y, por supuesto, la intensidad de la reacción tiende a multiplicarse por 13,000 si Taylor Swift forma parte de la pareja en cuestión.
Por si te lo perdiste, la música pasó la tarde del domingo en el US Open con su novio, Travis Kelce. Estaban completamente el uno encima del otro. Hablo de abrazos: su cuerpo atlético de 6’5 se alzaba detrás del de ella, con los brazos alrededor de su cintura. Hablo de besos: pequeños y risueños. Y también hubo canto. Ah, y baile, y tocar la air guitarra al ritmo de “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” de The Darkness. Entra un vídeo viral que ha generado tanto desprecio y burla en línea que pensarías que comenzaron a tener sexo en su palco antes de caer completamente desnudos en la cancha de tenis. (¡No lo hicieron!)
“Increíblemente vergonzoso”, escribió alguien en respuesta al video. “Alguien debería decirle que no tiene que sobreactuar para parecer feliz en cámara y que en realidad es un signo de una tristeza increíblemente profunda e incurable,” añadió otro (¡excelente ortógrafo!). Otros guerreros del teclado con demasiado tiempo libre decidieron etiquetar la relación como “nauseabunda”, lanzando la palabra “showmance” sin miramientos.
Ya entiendes la idea. Todo esto es una gran pena por muchas razones. La primera es que Swift y Kelce están obviamente muy enamorados, se nota por la forma en que se miran. Si no puedes, quizás nunca te han mirado de esa forma. Es claro que esta es una relación verdadera, lo cual es precisamente por lo que pueden ser tan terriblemente cursis el uno con el otro. Es el antítesis de la mayoría de las parejas de celebridades, que se toman demasiado en serio para ser vistos siquiera tomados de la mano en público, mucho menos siendo tan tontos e infantiles como estos dos.
Francamente, es refrescante, especialmente cuando consideras que Swift es indiscutiblemente una de las personas más famosas del planeta en este momento. No solo eso, sino que ha sido objeto de una campaña implacable de misoginia y vergüenza en línea en relación con su vida amorosa. Sus elecciones de citas han sido escrutadas hasta el punto de la parodia, algo que ha abordado en su composición más de una vez. Teniendo todo esto en cuenta, pocos culparían a Swift por querer ocultar su relación con Kelce de los medios. Eso es ciertamente lo que hizo con su exnovio Joe Alwyn. Pero ahora, aquí está, mostrando orgullosamente su amor al mundo.
The triumph or lack thereof of the Emmy Awards is frequently attributed to whoever hosts, and a high standard was notably established at the outset of the 2024 Emmys thanks to the father-son pair, Eugene and Dan Levy, who provided us with a seamlessly flowing event peppered with truly amusing instances—from Martin Short and Steve Martin making quips about Nicole Kidman’s frequent presence on television (Martin: “Whenever I spot an unfamiliar actor, I simply remark, ‘I adored your scene alongside Nicole Kidman,’ and most of the time, I’m not mistaken!”) to Jean Smart humorously acknowledging HBO while receiving her sixth Emmy. Presented below are seven outstanding highlights from this year’s Emmy celebration:
The Saturday Night Live-alum homage (of a sort) to Lorne Michaels
Photo: Getty Images
We’re invariably delighted to witness any combination of Maya Rudolph, Kristen Wiig, Bowen Yang, and Seth Meyers, and their lighthearted homage to Saturday Night Live originator Lorne Michaels’s numerous Emmy defeats (along with, as Meyers observed, a considerable quantity of victories) possessed the commanding and witty presence of an exceptional SNL sketch. I appreciate even the implied notion that Yang might believe Michaels’s name resembles “Lauren.”
John Oliver’s heartwarming, on-the-spot tribute to his canine
Once the temperatures plummeted and the foliage began shifting hues, an odd sensation took hold of me. I acquired a brand-new bed—it was as if my previous one was suddenly revolting and antiquated. I donated a substantial portion of my wardrobe—over a third remains a puzzle as to my former belief that all that coordinated linen rendered me “sophisticated” and not akin to Nigel Thornberry. I hastily arranged a hair stylist visit—I don’t recall enlisting their aid to invoke Rod Stewart’s aura previously, but such must have transpired somehow. It felt as though, with autumn’s onset, emerged the impulse to rejuvenate my existence completely. Enter something I solemnly endorse: the grand autumn revamp.
Traditionally, spring is the time designated for overhauling our lives, which, on paper, is logical. It symbolizes fresh starts and warmth, and you cease feeling like a semi-frozen, lumbering medieval crone each transition from one room to another. Yet, I’ve persistently realized that, practically, fall stands superior for reinventing one’s whole life. During this period, your wardrobe transforms utterly. The declining temperatures permit actual thought (in the blazing summer, “getting out of bed” suffices to urge an Aperol Spritz and a solitary cigarette). Additionally, it’s likely because many of us still associate autumn with beginning a new school term. Vaguely recalling school days, I nonetheless inexplicably face the compulsion to purchase new stationery every September. Thus, it has been advantageous to channel that distinct energy as an adult.
Additionally, autumn seems the most pragmatic for a comprehensive life reset because come winter, ventures are few. The period is lengthy and wintry, spent lounging on your laptop till the afternoon, indulging in Oreos while leisurely half-viewing The Holiday on your mother’s sofa and browsing Instagram. It’s not conducive for a complete transformation. Naturally, there are New Year’s pledges, and I do relish the tidy symmetry of commencing anew on New Year’s Day, but making significant life adjustments during deep winter’s bleakness, when unveiling the curtains resembles a Silent Hill teaser, is daunting. Indeed, all indicators suggest autumn is the prime moment for hitting the reset button.
To clarify, when mentioning “grand autumn revamp,” I don’t imply obsessive brooding over physical or mental enhancements that often just diminish our self-worth (although I’m endeavoring to care less about others’ opinions, and aspire to acquire notably strong arms). It’s more about practical and lifestyle-related shifts. Procuring a quality winter coat. Conducting a comprehensive fridge cleanout. Assembling and donating unneeded books to charity. Through experience, I’ve discerned that decluttering your life generally initiates a chain reaction on a mental and physical level. You’ll find no necessity to pledge vague assurances of “becoming more optimistic” or “prioritizing rest” when a comfortable new mattress already conveys that notion.
Ultimately, you’re under no obligation to perform any significant reset at any time of year if you’re disinclined (understandably). Amid constant bombardment with directives promising to enhance our selves à la The Substance, occasionally lounging with a substantial bowl of pasta while viewing YouTube—our desired plan—brings relief. But if you’re mulling over a bedroom remodel, exploring a novel hairdo, aspiring to embody a trench coat and leather gloves-wearer, or at last tackling that peculiar “everything” nook in the kitchen, delay not until spring. Give it a shot now—you won’t lament it.
World AIDS Day comes annually on the 1st of December, yet it remains one of the more perplexing—and I must add, often feared—occasions in the AIDS community. Those who advocate are frequently obligated to decide between grieving the absence of dear ones or utilizing the day, acknowledged globally, to spotlight the ongoing challenges that still prevent us from realizing a generation free of AIDS. With an approaching administration that made promises to “transform” our healthcare, taking advice from one of the most prominent voices in the anti-science and denialist movement, our inclination to resist has never been more apparent or critical. If the initial AIDS activism and our ACT UP veterans imparted any lesson to us, it is in the way to collectively and passionately fight for one another and persist during moments of hopelessness.
Occasionally, I am inquired on how my journey in AIDS activism began. Although pinpointing the exact moment is challenging, I will forever recall the location—Room 207 at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Community Center during an ACT UP (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) assembly in New York City. Immediately, I felt I belonged. There’s plenty of romanticized documentation and portrayals of ACT UP in the media, yet I always encounter astonishment when individuals realize that ACT UP is still active and perseveres in crucial work across its chapters.
When I became part of ACT UP NY, we were several years into the FDA’s sanctioning of oral PrEP (pre-exposure prophylaxis). Although there was a drug available that, when consumed daily, can efficiently prevent HIV infection, its pharmaceutical producer, Gilead Sciences, was inflating the price by 66%, potentially imposing a cost of up to $24,000 annually on users. This revelation of price exploitation became even more unsettling when it was unearthed that the funding for the trials originated from US taxpayers’ contributions.
Almost a decade has passed, and now multiple generic versions of oral PrEP exist in the market—but fairness still eludes us. As per the US CDC and cited in PrEP in Black America’s For Us By Us document, 91% of Black Americans who could gain from PrEP have never obtained a prescription. This is particularly significant as we contemplate the recent (and thrilling) findings from the PURPOSE 1 and 2 trials for lenacapavir, a semiannual injectable PrEP that showed remarkable efficacy among cisgender women (PURPOSE 1) and gay men, transgender, and nonbinary individuals (PURPOSE 2) in disaster prevention (it’s currently sanctioned as a therapy for the illness, not an equal preventative option to the daily oral medication). Although the cost remains uncertain, it’s known that the price of lenacapavir as therapy is currently an astounding $42,250 for the first year, despite the potential for substantial profitability at merely $40 annually. It is also known that the producer of lenacapavir, once again Gilead Sciences (noticing a pattern here?), declared plans to authorize generic forms of the drug in 120 countries—excluding nations like Argentina, Brazil, Mexico, and Peru—all of which significantly contributed to the trial’s success through participation.
A widely accepted truth holds that any dedicated rom-com enthusiast must seek a Laura Dern-gets-her-groove-back type of movie, and Netflix has precisely fulfilled this expectation with Lonely Planet. This new production by Erin Brockovich scriptwriter Susannah Grant stars Dern as a writer who travels to Morocco for a writing retreat and encounters a charming young man named Liam Hemsworth (or whatever his name is in the flick; I’ll refer to him as Liam Hemsworth). Fans of May-December romance, take note! Let’s embark on this journey, shall we?
When a film opens with that familiar “ding” sound one hears on an aircraft, you know the main character is venturing out.
In a literal sense.
We are nearing Marrakech, Morocco!
Thus far, no appearance of the Global South yellow filter, thankfully.
Laura Dern! Her voice echoing her “ISAIDTHANKYOOOOOOOU” from Big Little Lies resonates within me every time I spot her.
Sheep! Blocking the path! Though not as thrilling as seeing Laura Dern, still quite fascinating.
Oh dear, Laura Dern’s luggage is missing.
Opting out of a press trip’s first-night dinner due to fatigue is highly relatable, indeed.
Just teasing! Please don’t overlook me for future press trips, media influencers!
Look, it’s Liam Hemsworth! Accompanied by a significant other! Not Laura Dern, though!
The shirt he’s donned is dangerously henley-like, but a second glance reveals it’s a polo.
Sounds like Laura Dern is entrenched in a challenging divorce, or perhaps it concluded already? Either way, some man is quite irate with her.
Let’s dive into the spirit of Eat Pray Love, dear friend!
Actually, maybe we should bypass the “pray” part.
Diana Silvers as anyone’s romantic prospect besides Kaitlyn Dever does bother me.
Her chunky highlights, however, are quite appealing, I must admit.
So is Liam Hemsworth a fellow writer? Or just unusually supportive of his partner?
A guy who dismisses an Ambien because of a scheduled call? No fun! Leave him!
Not clear what this call entails, but I gather it bears significance.
Oh, Liam and Laura are encountering one another!
Remarkably, even their names complement each other nicely.
An irritating journalist on a press trip? That’s me!
“I see your face in bed a lot,” followed by the girlfriend revelation? Really, Liam!
This statement evokes SATC’s Sam Jones’ grievance with men boasting about their girlfriends promptly. We get it, dude!
My goodness, this village is idyllic.
Laura Dern is tailor-made for quoting Flaubert in a film.
Liam, with his four sisters, clearly marks himself as a Decent Person.
Sorry, my newly adopted puppy was causing chaos, so I missed the narrative foundation of Laura and Liam’s meet-cute, though things seem to be evolving smoothly.
Oh, Diana Silvers, Liam’s girlfriend, is an ardent admirer of Laura’s works. Intriguing.
Laura, do not travel (especially not overseas) if a touch of background yelling discomforts you!
Perhaps I’m just complacent, having accustomed myself to writing amidst the clamor of Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, to be fair.
Oh, fascinating, Liam’s career involves…coal extraction, somehow.
“Clean coal,” LOL.
You writerly women out there, heed this advice: Refrain from bringing your extraction-industry boyfriend to a retreat, or he will be rightfully excoriated by all the socialists.
Poor Laura parted with a farmhouse post-divorce?
Laura released her debut novel during college? Zadie Smith-esque!
Laura sharply critiquing Liam for his prior high school athletic jock persona is immensely satisfying and captivating to witness.
I’m aware Liam posed the question “Why can’t you finish your book at home?” to Laura, but as someone who splurges $40 every alternate weekday to “work” at the local lesbian all-day café, I perceive it as a direct affront.
Oh, a grand confession nearly took place!
In the most appropriate and respectful manner imaginable, may I express: Diana Silvers looks quite dazzling in a sleeveless top.
Liam Hemsworth, equally so, I might add.
“Come find me when you’re in a better mood” is, without doubt, a remarkably mature and poignant retort.
Liam is navigating the streets of Marrakech on a motorcycle, fueled by anger.
That’s right, man! Immerse yourself in local sports! Enjoy a local brew! Embrace the camaraderie of local folks! Let go of the worries related to romantic entanglements!
When in Morocco and (like Laura at the moment) refusing anything served in a tagine, one is simply a fool.
I don’t care how satiated you feel! Take a taste of that harira!
I yearn to recline on a float in a Moroccan pool at this very moment.
I haven’t experienced a writer’s retreat firsthand; is this the ambiance they typically possess?
Liam Hemsworth’s facial hair is perfectly proportionate to this movie, I must commend.
Really, Liam? Those in the natural-resource-extraction sector aren’t the friendliest?
Oh, he’s an eco-antagonist with a noble heart aligning with West Virginia coal miners. Marvelous :/
Laura’s previous marriage with a sculptor reveals so much Meryl-like character coding.
This fellow is rather inconsiderate to his girlfriend Diana Silvers, merely attempting to enjoy her journey.
“You consistently find ways to ruin what excites me.” A harsh sentiment for a partner! Raise your standards, cisgender heterosexual men.
Bravo to Diana for parting ways with him!
Laura is attentively listening to their breakup unfold through her wall, indeed?
Really, you’re offering to “stay out of her way” without departing so she can genuinely enjoy the retreat? I despise this man! Go frack somewhere!
Ooh la la, a tantalizing Laura/Liam shoulder-kiss sequence.
“I could fall for a youngster like you”?????? Wow.
Liam didn’t appreciate that remark.
Hannah Horvath’s partner called her “kid,” and she had no complaints, mate! Though perhaps she ought to have?
Liam plans to set out for some “exploration.” Ugh.
He invites Laura!
Parasailing montage!
Oh, others are parasailing. Our romantics are simply hand-in-hand on the shoreline.
An intimate scene!
A noteworthy one, to put it mildly.
Sharing olives? Fantastic.
“You realize I adore olives.” He’s already privy to this detail?
The specifics of this man’s coal agreement don’t concern me in the slightest.
Laura is heading back 🙁
Unaccompanied 🙁 🙁
Lone Liam by the seaside 🙁 🙁 🙁
In truth, I cannot resist a climactic reconnection.
I would indeed prefer if Laura Dern’s actual character Katherine Loewe’s surname were pronounced lo-WAY-vey.
If a “Bennifer-ologist” profession indeed exists, I’d presume to be somewhat qualified for such a position. After all, I have penned what must total in the dozens (though it feels like hundreds) of pieces on Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez’s romantic saga over the past few years—and, not without bragging, I acquired a bottle of J.Lo’s signature scent Glow ahead of any of my peers back in 2002.
Yet, in spite of these credentials, when I learned that the beleaguered duo had been spotted sharing kisses and clasping hands during brunch (arguably the most crucial mealtime of heterosexual courtship) at the Polo Lounge of the Beverly Hills Hotel following their recently announced separation, I had to confess…I was baffled. Shall I, or anyone for that matter, ever understand these two?
Truth be told, there’s been a lot of Bennifer drama to keep track of this summer, from Lopez channeling a Nancy Meyers film in the Hamptons, to Affleck’s troubled-yet-handsome single-dad faux-hawk, to Lopez mingling with fellow Affleck ex Jennifer Garner (and Affleck buddy Matt Damon, for that matter). Honestly, as challenging as staying updated can be, I find myself quite fascinated by the sheer lack of narrative uniformity. Who declares you can’t have a makeout session post-divorce? And why not place your kids separately at the Polo Lounge to reignite the spark? (For clarity, I actually support this; what teenager desires to sit with their parents at brunch, even if said parents starred in Gigli?)
People magazine reports that the Affleck-Lopez split proceeds apace, and though it’s risky to suggest that nearly all celebrity gossip is largely fabricated…I must speculate if any of us would truly be aware if the divorce weren’t progressing, “exclusive source” notwithstanding. Whether united or apart, Affleck and Lopez have led their romantic journeys publicly for over twenty years, and it feels like they’re engaging in three-dimensional chess. Is it time to ponder the notion that we are only privy to what these two shrewd celebrity trailblazers allow us to perceive? Or were they merely so swept up in passion for each other that they couldn’t resist igniting the round-three relationship whispers? Regardless, I’m attentive.
Recientemente estaba en Ibiza, en un restaurante de playa, frente a unas vistas del mar color turquesa que es casi doloroso contemplar. ¿Conoces esa sensación cuando te está yendo tan bien que casi te sientes enfadado? Porque es como, ¿por qué no puedo experimentar esto cada segundo de mi vida? Sí, básicamente era así. Y pensé para mí mismo, me encantaría tomar un cóctel ahora. Así que pedí exactamente una margarita de mango picante. Y estaba deliciosa. Justo la cantidad adecuada de dulzor ácido, con un pequeño toque de jalapeño. Me sentí tan satisfecho en ese momento que podría haber simplemente… flotado de mi silla. Simplemente flotado lejos de toda esa satisfacción.
El tipo de consumo mencionado es lo que un amigo mío describió recientemente como “consumo basado en vibraciones”. Es decir, sólo beber cuando las vibraciones son perfectas. Es decir, sólo beber cuando el acto podría mejorar aún más tu ya buen momento (en lugar de ser el evento principal). Esencialmente, no beber por hacerlo, y no muy frecuentemente. Sólo beber cuando las estrellas se alinean, por ejemplo, cuando estás en Ibiza en un restaurante frente a la playa. O en una fiesta de Halloween realmente divertida. O en la víspera de Año Nuevo a medianoche cuando alguien te pasa una copa de champán. Obviamente, el consumo basado en vibraciones no es recomendable si tienes un historial de problemas con el alcohol y necesitas abstenerte. Pero si vas a beber, ¿por qué no hacerlo de una forma consciente, en lugar de hacerlo sin razón alguna?
El tipo de consumo que mantenía en mi adolescencia y a principios o mediados de mis 20 años probablemente era lo opuesto al consumo basado en vibraciones. Bebía si estaba cansado después del trabajo, o si estaba emocionado por algo, o si no tenía nada más que hacer el fin de semana. Bebía si me sentía socialmente ansioso en salidas nocturnas—lo que era siempre—o si quería que algo interesante sucediera, o si estaba aburrido. El alcohol sería la actividad, y el entorno existiría para facilitar esa actividad (¿realmente me hubiera sentado en un bar oscuro en Deptford hasta la hora de cierre de otro modo?) En la segunda mitad de mis 20, me alejé de beber de esta manera. Para ese momento, las resacas dejaron de ser “no tan malas, en realidad”, y cada rincón de mi vida se mejoró cuando reduje drásticamente. Aunque no necesitas que te lo diga—todo el mundo parece estar sobrio o casi sobrio ahora, y todos están cosechando los beneficios.
Hoy en día, bebo aproximadamente una vez cada un par de meses, y solo cuando la ocasión realmente lo amerita (recientemente tomé una cerveza fresca en Croacia y fue como beber del sol, de una manera buena). Pero claramente el consumo basado en vibraciones no es una invención nueva—mucha gente ya lo hace naturalmente. Es lo que algunos podrían llamar “sobrio adyacente”—un término un tanto extraño usado para describir a quienes no son completamente abstemios, pero son más propensos a ir “secos” en una salida nocturna. Otro término que podrías haber visto es “consumo consciente”, que es básicamente beber de una manera razonable (el experto en consumo consciente Derek Brown jura por “las cuatro C” cuando se trata de consumo razonable: celebración, convivialidad, consagración y conocimiento). De nuevo, si tienes un historial de problemas con el alcohol, “razonable” será difícil de medir. Pero si puedes llevar un estilo de vida principalmente sobrio, entonces “razonable” puede ser una buena guía.
Mi hija es la luz de mi vida, pero su nacimiento pudo haberme costado la vida. No tuve epidural, porque gracias a años escribiendo Grey’s Anatomy, temía más las complicaciones que el dolor del parto.
Mi parto fue considerado normal, lo cual significa que caminaba, me doblaba y vomitaba del dolor agónico cada pocos minutos durante 22 horas, luego empujé con todo mi cuerpo por cuatro horas más. Aun así, necesité asistencia con vacío para sacar al bebé porque su cabeza estaba atrapada en mi pelvis. Cuando mi hija finalmente salió, sana, lloré de alivio, pero mi rostro estaba seco porque estaba demasiado deshidratada para producir lágrimas. En ese momento pasó rápidamente de normal a aterrador mientras la sangre comenzaba a salir de mi cuerpo acumulándose en el piso del hospital.
No morí desangrada porque el equipo médico tuvo fácil acceso a misoprostol, un medicamento que ha sido retirado de los carros de emergencia en Louisiana porque, aunque es increíblemente eficaz para detener las hemorragias post-parto, también se puede usar para inducir abortos. También requirió que me pusieran esponjas y gasas y nueve puntos para detener la hemorragia.
Me llevó meses recuperarme completamente del parto, en parte por la pérdida de sangre, y en parte porque una de las esponjas fue olvidada dentro de mí. Si eres fan de Grey’s, sabes que una esponja olvidada puede llevar a serias infecciones, enfermedades y muerte. Tuve suerte de sentir que algo estaba mal y que los doctores me creyeron, buscaron y encontraron la esponja podrida mientras los antibióticos aún podían tratar la infección.
Estoy compartiendo los detalles espantosos del nacimiento de mi hija porque las mujeres usualmente no lo hacen. De la misma manera que nuestra cultura nos ha enseñado a susurrar sobre nuestras menstruaciones y ocultar nuestros tampones, a pesar de que nuestros ciclos perpetúan nuestra especie, las nuevas madres son culturalmente guiadas a ocultar los detalles más brutales del parto. Nuestra sociedad enfoca en bebés hermosos y risueños. Ignora, a través de un silencio culturalmente perpetuado, las heridas físicas y emocionales que acompañan la experiencia del embarazo, el aborto espontáneo, el parto y la maternidad.
Creo que en parte por este silencio, porque nos hacen sentir que de alguna manera traicionamos a nuestros impresionantes y amados bebés al nombrar las realidades que conducen a su existencia y la acompañan, hemos permitido que se aprueben leyes en los Estados Unidos de América que obligan a las mujeres a llevar embarazos no deseados a término. Es crucial que las mujeres comiencen a hablar sobre lo que realmente significa el término “derechos reproductivos”, porque es la única manera de enfatizar la importancia de que votemos en esta elección.
During the peak of X’s renown (indeed, back when it was still known as Twitter), it appeared we couldn’t pass a week without the rise of some new viral, internet-loving creature, ranging from Fiona the Hippo from Cincinnati Zoo (she takes baths, folks!) to Koko, arguably the world’s most renowned gorilla. Regrettably, genuinely enjoyable animal content has seen a decline online recently, which perhaps explains why the emergence of Thai pygmy hippo Moo Deng has enthralled the masses. Below, discover all you need to know regarding Moo Deng, the girl we all aspire to be.
Who is Moo Deng?
Moo Deng, whose name means “bouncy pork” in Thai, is a two-month-old pygmy hippopotamus who has been capturing hearts since her birth on July 10, 2024. She’s one of seven offspring born to proud hippo parents Jona and Tony, and despite the risk of offending her siblings, who can surely read and have Vogue web subscriptions, she’s quite evidently the standout: She’s become a Utah Jazz meme and even inspired a Sephora Thailand campaign encouraging customers to “wear your blush like a baby hippo.” What greater accolade could exist for a young animal?
Where does Moo Deng reside?
Moo Deng’s current abode is Khao Kheow Open Zoo in Chonburi, Thailand, which has been overwhelmed with visitors eager to catch a sight of the young hippo. According to a social media update from the zoo, guests are now restricted to five-minute slots of time with Moo Deng, partially due to occurrences of individuals tossing items or pouring water on her. As zoo director Narongwit Chodcho informed a local publication: “These actions are not only cruel but also hazardous. We must safeguard these animals and ensure they have a secure and comfortable setting.” (It’s noteworthy that Moo Deng’s pygmy hippo species is endangered, with merely about 2,000 left in the wild.)
Why has Moo Deng become such a viral phenomenon?
Moo Deng’s adorableness speaks volumes—she’s a rounded, glossy, wet-eyed diva—and online, her devoted fans have diligently shared images of the hippo doing everything from bathing to eating to seemingly crying out into the void. In the span of roughly a week, she’s become a symbol for our confused times.
