Kate Ryan

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

At Monster High, Jimmy Werewolf gets another demerit for forgetting to shave again.

Surviving the Apocalypse didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy a little romance.

LAX, on the other hand, seemed like a perfect place to pick up the latest deadly virus.

We all love our dogs. However, some of us take it a little too far, convincing ourselves that our dogs are actually our children. You call your dog your “baby” one day, and the next thing you know, you’re pushing him or her down the street in an expensive stroller. How did we get here? Trust me, it’s a slippery slope. Here are 12 signs you might have a dog-child.

One crawled up the side of the bag and opened her wings, a hardtop convertible with legs.

“Don’t you smash that cake in my face, or I’ll never forgive you,” she said, and she never did, not really.

Fresh orange juice, milk, thick slices of ham, a block of cheese, a carton of eggs—her husband kept it this way should this moment arrive.

She knows you’re not supposed to call it an “it,” but she honestly can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl or . . . undecided.

"No self-respecting journalist or publication would ever hire someone who employs the word 'sh--' as a title for anything."