An exquisite 2016 Justin Bieber profile

Plus a visit to Gill Mils, fancy flip flops, good pants, headbands, and white scrunchies

I interviewed a world-renowned writer and critic yesterday who said to me, over zoom: whatever you do, write what you actually think. So here I am. We spoke for an hour about what it means to be a critic, and a writer, today. They imparted loads of wisdom on how to write even when it feels awful, when the world makes it feel irrelevant, and how to use listening as a way to write better. You can read all of that in the upcoming Byline summer issue. It’s going to be really good. (And, if you haven’t already, you can buy our Risk Issue here.)

I’ve been thinking about the New York mayoral race, this week’s deportation atrocities, the ongoing strife for Palestinians in Gaza, and how to continue functioning when everything else feels trite. I’m not sure if there’s an answer. Alas, below are some pretty trite topics that did bring me an ounce of wonder and entertainment.

This 2016 GQ Justin Bieber profile was my before-bed reading the other night. Writer Caity Weaver absolutely slayed the house down with this. It’s honest in the way that profiles were in the 2000s, memorializing a moment in Bieber’s life and in pop culture at large (teen relationships, Bieber acting up, the timely release of him asking if it’s too late to say sorry). My favorite part is the way she addresses his relationship with Hailey upon seeing her in Bieber’s room in the Beverly Hills Hotel, where he once lived:

When we enter, Hailey is wearing a black crop top and tight black pants, sitting on a pristinely made bed. She is doing nothing—no TV, no book, no phone, no computer, no music, no oil paints, nothing. She is pretty and polite and 19 and asks me, “What’s up?” I am impressed she does not hide in the bathroom with the shower running, which is what I would do if my super-famous rumored boyfriend showed up unannounced with a journalist in the middle of my day.

I love “she is doing nothing,” (non derogatory, because the billion-dollar beauty is doing a lot these days). Weaver then asks Bieber if that’s his girlfriend:

I ask if they’re dating, and he shakes his head emphatically, affecting a confused expression, as if he can’t possibly fathom why I would assume that he is dating the young woman in his hotel room, whom he has been photographed kissing.

LOL. If you have a chance to read the profile, it’s truly one of the good ones. Reading it the other night felt like a midnight snack. It just kept getting better. It was good in a way that I have to imagine Hunter Harris has covered this profile somewhere along the way in Hung Up. Juicy and honest. I love nothing more than coming across a delicous essay or profile, so if you have any of the like, please send my way.

Otherwise I’m deep in the moving grind, an incredibly boring thing to expand upon. It’s an easy thing to become consumed by, but not in the way that’s fun to write about, so moving on into some good ‘ole vapid beauty and commerce.

• Facial of the gods: I’ve talked about the powers of Gill Mils before, and they’re no secret, but I had the privilege of visiting her studio last week and I stand by my statements that she is *the* best in NYC. She also gave me a sheet mask on my way out, this Omad one, and using it one week later perpetuated the clean, glowy effects of a visit to Gill’s studio.

• Fancy flip flops: Gill and I were both wearing these crystal Havianas. Shoe of the summer?

• Summer of pants: Also no secret, but I am down the hole with Brooke Callahan pants. I have the red (below) and brown pants and the black capris. I think I need the black pants too…

• Thistles Al sunglasses: Despite being incapable of holding onto a pair of sunglasses, I am a fanatic for these. They don’t seem to love me back, because I misplace every pair, which is a tragedy for another essay.

• The Amazon Headband: If you have curly hair, the kind that creates tiny frizzies and flyaways, then you’ll understand why I wear one of these every single day despite it maybe becoming weird and redundant. I’ve learned it only works if it’s at least 2.75 inches wide and TIGHT, like these ones.

• The Perfect Baby Pink Tank: Yes, if we’re talking about overpriced tank tops, I’m all about the Tank Air craze. But this baby pink Flore Flore tank just does it the best for me.

• White Scrunchies: Particularly this one, this one, and this one. Also really into Merrma Earth’s bandeaus.

Final note - The NYC Gap HQ plays top hits + oldies over the speakers all day long. Everyone bops while they zoom. Very in the spirit of OG Gap. Will think harder next week.