Vogue July 2017

I DO FEEL LIKE OUR OPPORTUNITY, AS WELL AS OUR obligation, is bigger than it was before,” Cecile Richards, the president of Planned Parenthood, recently told writer Jonathan Van Meter, before going on to say, “We’re not just an important reproductive–health care provider—we’re a movement.” With those few words, Richards proves just how remarkable she is. Even in the most difficult times, she can find reasons to be positive and deliver a rallying call to the greater community. And this particular moment is undoubtedly deeply testing for Planned Parenthood, given that it has not only become a target for many on the right since last year’s election, but also been attacked via that modern-day malaise of fake news. Jonathan trailed Richards from Las Vegas to New York, and in “On…

As with everything in parenting—including the decision to do it at all—our son, Louis’s, introduction to solid food began on the fly. It was Christmas Eve at my in-laws’ in Vermont. Louis was four and a half months old. I came downstairs to find him gumming a pear. My mother-in-law noted that he appeared “ready to cut out the middleman.” Later he chewed somewhat treacherously on an apple core and siphoned the juice out of a cantaloupe. He sucked turnip puree off my index finger at Christmas dinner and then, over the next few days, slurped willy-nilly: from a jar of homemade applesauce; the gelatinous juices from chicken with mushrooms; split-pea soup; a glorious demitasse spoonful of peanut butter; the broth from very porky New Year’s Hoppin’ John. Watching it…

WHEN THE WORLD IS IN CRISIS, A PANTSUIT HAS always asserted itself on the front lines of empowered style. In the eighties, it said you had a job; in the nineties, that you had a life outside it, with non-starched Calvin Klein and Jil Sander numbers speaking of individuality and cool. But owning a suit—outside corporate climes, at least—has now largely skipped a couple of generations, with tastes favoring a harmonious melody of separates. Fall’s newfangled pantsuits, though, made me wonder: Could I go there? Chic, scissor-sharp precision was everywhere—from Balenciaga and Altuzarra to Calvin Klein and Max Mara, with many more well-cut options to choose from. I have only ever worn one proper pantsuit: my mother’s Mondi houndstooth two-piece, which I trussed my rangy sixteen-year-old frame into when growing…

Spotting a rickety chiva rolling through the Haussmannized streets of Paris this summer may not, in fact, be cause for surprise—this past December kicked off a French-and-Colombian cultural exchange to be celebrated (via fete or fiesta) throughout the year. Hearing of the synchronicity, Bogota-born designer Esteban Cortazar was prompted to bring a taste of his home country to Colette, which stocks Cortazar’s own self-titled line of heady Latin flair. For two weeks this month, the Parisian shopping destination will host a Cortazar-curated Colombian bazaar replete with a tiendita—like a Manhattan bodega—in the window. Downstairs, the Water Bar is dishing out native tapas from the restaurant Candelaria, while on the main floor, an assemblage of vibrant furniture and accessories evokes the intermix of punchy colors woven into the country’s iconic mochila…

It’s not true that Haim, the L.A.-based band of sisters, never dreamed they’d be on the edge of superstardom—or even that their latest hit, “Want You Back,” would wind up on everybody’s summer-anthem playlist. It’s difficult, in fact, to imagine three people who might have put in more time dreaming about rock ’n’ roll: Este, 31; Danielle, 28; and Alana, 25, aside from being smart and fun and often hilarious, are self-described rock nerds. So the moment they came home from their first world tour two years ago—still riding the wave of the out-of-the-blue success of the their first album, Days Are Gone—they immediately recognized a classic nightmare scenario: songwriter’s block. “You’re thinking, Can I still do this?” remembers Danielle. “And you’re looking at a blank sheet of paper.” “You…

“Music and movement are everything,” says Krewe designer and CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund runner-up Stirling Barrett of his native New Orleans. “My hope was to translate those into raw material.” His contribution to the art form is nine custom shades rendered in vintage Mazzucchelli acetate and inflected with the spirit of the city. Much like no two jazz scats are the same, “each pair is entirely unique,” says Barrett, noting the irregular silver and gold streaks. And while the brand’s identity is deeply rooted in the Big Easy—including framework that echoes the wrought-iron balconies lining St. Louis Street—their true origins lie in the Big Apple: Barrett created the first version of the frames for a Fashion Fund design challenge in NYC.…