Kate Ryan

The Gap come autumn: where normcore and film noir cleverly collide.

My tights are cutting me in half at the waist . . . just like a sausage in its casing.

12:48 AM. Why would someone schedule an exorcism for the middle of a weeknight?

Alison learned from her grandmother how a plastic smile could take you places—especially in a place like Hollywood.

Recently, it was announced that the Ocean’s Eleven remake will be ladies-only too. Could it be that we’ve embarked on an era in which women take center stage?

Everyone wants to have the funny tweets because people equate them with wealth, power, and beauty. The problem is, we’re not all funny.

As an Uber driver, I have the privilege of talking to and eavesdropping on a sampling of L.A.’s finest, ranging from the clinically insane to the simply self-absorbed. As a writer, there is no end to the amount of inspiration my passengers provide.

Light some candles and use those bath salts you've been saving for a special occasion. Masturbate for 55 minutes.

Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.