There may be no fashion ecosystem more intense than a Jewish sleepaway camp, where hundreds of teenage girls somehow end up wearing the same three sweatshirt brands while insisting they're all expressing their own style. Before camp even starts, there is camp shopping. Giant duffels spread across bedroom floors. Camp haul Snapchat stories. The panic over whether last summer's brands are suddenly embarrassing. The search for the perfect oversized sweatshirt that looks effortle

Last night I saw the Michael Jackson movie. Growing up, I never really thought much about him. He died in 2009, the same year I was born, so unlike my parents' generation, I didn't experience "Michael Jackson mania" firsthand. What struck me most about the movie wasn't just his influence on music, entertainment, and celebrity culture. It was his influence on fashion. Who can forget the red leather jacket from Thriller? Or the single sparkly glove? Even people who have never l

For years, Hamilton has been my favorite musical. I first watched it when it was released on Disney+ in 2020, and ever since, I've known every lyric by heart. Yet the song that stayed with me most was the finale, "Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story." There was something about those words that felt profoundly meaningful, though I couldn't quite explain why they resonated with me so deeply. Yesterday, my mom surprised me with tickets to see Hamilton on Broadway. After ne

It’s a rainy Memorial Day weekend in the Hamptons. On this gloomy Sunday my sister and I watched The Devil Wears Prada 2. The movie series, loosely inspired by Vogue and Anna Wintour, remains so popular because it gives viewers what feels like a rare inside look into the fashion world, a world that often feels glamorous, intimidating, and slightly out of reach. What fascinated me most about the sequel was how much it focused on the evolution of fashion journalism over the pas

At the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s new exhibition, Costume Art, I kept drifting back toward the same dress. It was white and heavily embellished, almost like something a modern Greek goddess would wear. Somehow it felt incredibly current despite being decades old — the kind of dress I could genuinely imagine wanting to wear someday to a black-tie gala or formal event. What was strange was that it did not even dominate the room. Costume Art was overflowing with dramatic piece

Four years ago today was my bat mitzvah. Technically, my birthday is in December, but because of Covid we postponed the celebration until the spring of sixth grade, when I was twelve. At the time, it felt worth the wait. I remember the countdown to the party almost more vividly than the actual ceremony itself. The custom dress. The fittings. The shoes. The hair appointments. I even got my top braces removed early just for the event. The dress became the centerpiece of everyth