Exhaling Life

This morning, the top five stories in my Apple News feed were: the U.S. and Iran trading strikes for the first time in weeks, from BBC News; one dead and 15 missing after sudden flooding at the Grand Canyon forced dozens to be airlifted, from Fox Weather; rescuers in Nepal racing to reach hundreds feared trapped in hydropower tunnels, from The Guardian; Congress finally talking about saving Social Security, from The Wall Street Journal; and, from ESPN, What Went Wrong? Novak Djokovic Knocked Out of US Open in First Round. Then, after months of food recalls and even a dog food recall, multiple states with impacted IVs as fiberglass detected in saline, from Newsweek, landed in my Instagram feed. Hermosa Beach, California, during record breaking heat While wondering how Novak Djokovic had managed to land among the morning’s apparent horsemen of the apocalypse, I laughed. None of it is funny, of course. Collectively, however, it is absurd. Perhaps my brain has been slightly cooked by the p...

One of the great signs of love is gifting. Another is sharing, which is why a very good men’s sweater should never be considered the sole property of the man who technically owns it. You bought it for him because you adore him, because he deserves something soft and handsome, and perhaps because you had the foresight to recognize that an oversized sweater looks particularly good with leggings, bare legs, or the vague promise of returning it someday. My favorite restaurant in Santa Barbara, California, Loquita There is generosity in this arrangement. He gets a beautifully chosen sweater, and you get visitation rights. Everyone wins, especially when the sweater in question has the right weight, the right drape, and enough room to suggest effortless intimacy rather than petty theft. Consider these eight options gifts for him, selected with love and impeccable taste. You will need to gently whisper to him that sharing is caring. 66 NORTH Varmahlid Shearling Sweater JavaScript is currently ...

It is one of those rare places in Los Angeles where I can feel authenticity and genuine warmth. When I first stepped into Bar Santos in Cypress Park, I was still recovering from my Portugal trip. If you recall from my IG Stories , a canceled flight, another delayed flight, lost luggage, falsely confiscated jamón ibérico, and the mystery of how airlines cannot distinguish between hotels and motels were traumatic enough to leave a mental scar. However, Bar Santos healed whatever wound remained. Piri Piri Chicken at Bar Santos The second time was to sip their Porto Tonico. I rarely talk about prices when it comes to bars and restaurants, but $9 for a drink, and a refreshingly delicious drink at that, is unheard of, especially in Los Angeles. While Porto Tonico got me back to Bar Santos, it was their Piri Piri Chicken that made me fall hard for them. It is very rare for me to try to duplicate a dish. Partly because I don't like to intelligently dissect what I am eating because it takes...

When I first read about Jason Arday, he had just resigned from the University of Cambridge. Accusations of plagiarism reminded me of Claudine Gay , the former president of Harvard University, who resigned after accusations of plagiarism surfaced. There certainly was more to her resignation than accusations of plagiarism. She was also accused of antisemitism following her congressional testimony. Her story ended with her becoming the shortest-serving president in the history of Harvard. When a second article about Arday caught my eye, he had been found dead at his home in South London. To this day, suicide has not been named as the cause of death, but I find myself speculating that it was suicide, given the circumstances surrounding his death and the absence of any reported foul play. I imagine many of us are wondering the same thing. I think about his last days. On August 5, the university announced that it had accepted his resignation and would open an investigation into allegations c...

Did Ruby Rippey lose her voice twenty years ago, as she suggests in her Vanity Fair essay, when her affair with then San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom exploded into public scandal, or did she simply have no defense to offer at the time? Perhaps Kamala Harris’s advice that she remain silent was not merely counsel to let time provide clearer perspective, but the advice of an attorney who understood that no arrangement of words could defend what Rippey had done to Alex Tourk, her husband at the time. By Pablo Picasso at LACMA For the record, I have said before that I will never vote for Gavin Newsom. My opinion of him is exceptionally low. So none of what follows should be mistaken for a dispatch from Team Newsom. It was not until I read Rippey’s essay that I learned of Newsom’s affair with her. From it, I learned that she worked for him. What elevated the story from garden-variety political infidelity to something approaching daytime-soap-opera tawdriness was that Rippey was married to Ne...

The shoulder has repeatedly been treated as one of fashion’s safest ways to be sensual. Most of us give Brigitte Bardot the credit for making the off-the-shoulder silhouette iconic—and certainly, few wore it with more persuasive nonchalance—but fashion history tells a far longer story. Recognizable versions of the neckline appear as far back as the 17th century, when European bodices widened and dipped low enough to reveal both the décolletage and shoulders. By the 19th century, the silhouette had become a fixture of evening dress. Queen Victoria herself wore a broad, shoulder-baring neckline for her 1840 wedding, and through the 1850s and 1860s, off-the-shoulder ball gowns paired tightly corseted bodices with sweeping skirts and bertha collars that framed exposed shoulders in lace, silk, and ruffles. Victorian modesty, it turns out, was considerably more situational than its reputation suggests. Calouste Gulbenkian Museum in Lisbon, Portugal The silhouette continued to surface as fash...

Inarizushi emerged in Japan during the Edo period, when seasoned fried tofu pockets filled with vinegared rice became popular as inexpensive street food. Its name is tied to Inari, the deity associated with rice, agriculture and prosperity, and to the foxes regarded as Inari’s messengers and linked in folklore to fried tofu. Inari, however, has never been Japanese to me. Growing up in South Korea, I knew it as yubu chobap, a meal my mom packed for school lunches and picnics—and one that always felt like a treat. Rather than sushi rice, she filled the tofu pockets with different kinds of fried rice. Perhaps that is why I have never regarded the pouch as something requiring too much fidelity. Shrimp & Kimchi Inari is my homage to kimchi fried rice, only quieter: shrimp and kimchi folded into rice with less seasoning than I would ordinarily use for the fried rice version. The restraint is intentional. The lighter seasoning leaves room for the fried tofu skin, with its distinctive swee...