Since the initial allegations of sexual abuse against Harvey Weinstein broke, many more high-profile men from different sectors have been accused of similar transgressions. At such a historic point in time, Americans have been forced to reckon with the reality that many of the men whose work we enjoy are in fact vile, reprehensible people.
On April 16, 2007, distressing scenes of first responders reacting to the Virginia Tech massacre played on our living room TV while my parents set the table so that we could enjoy the cake my mother made for my sister’s third birthday.
On October 8, the Instagram account @nescacbarstool posted for the first time. The account’s debut was a video proclaiming that in the NESCAC, “we work hard but we play harder.” The clip is a montage of partying crowds at various schools and concludes with a sped-up video of a student vomiting into a trash can, red solo cup in hand.
“This is not us” became an oft-repeated mantra in the aftermath of this summer’s violence in Charlottesville set off by white supremacist protesters. My social media timelines were littered with posts by former high school classmates, many of whom attend the University of Virginia and wanted to distance the horrific events from the institution, the surrounding town and our home state.
For better or for worse, the powerful combination of pop culture and the Internet has long been a large presence in my life. Whereas my parents have distinct memories of a time before computers, my earliest memories consist of afternoons taking turns playing games on the Disney Channel website with my younger sister.
Because I inherited my mother’s aversion to makeup, I was an easy target for Glossier’s stunningly effective marketing scheme. Rather than use Kendall Jenner’s heavily contoured and enviously symmetrical face for ads, the brand instead tends to recruit “everyday” women to model its minimalist line of makeup on its Instagram account.