Sarah Gladstone

The acknowledgment of Lupita’s elegance begins a process to alleviate any future need to add "for a . . . " to the end of “You’re beautiful.”

I didn’t realize I could like girls and boys. I didn’t have to choose, and one didn’t cancel out the other. Around the same time I attended my first GSA meeting, I did wonder, maybe I’m not straight? Maybe I’m gay?

What if there was something just as easy, just as reliable and convenient as those disposable to-go cups but totally eliminated the waste? Nope, it's not a hippie's LSD-induced fever dream. It's just some clever entreprenuers from Brooklyn...

We love the cast, but we're wary of spin-offs (even though they don't necessarily have to flop) ... and please, no more yellow umbrellas.

Welcome to the self-deluded world of illusory superiority.

Film festivals are the Fashion Week of the movie world – where the filmmakers congregate to present their art and where the hype and rumors are bor

New video featuring the comments of outraged Domino's customers shines new, disgusting light on first-world entitlement

As Americans we have fallen prey to a particular "look" —namely white and thin—and suffer from an inability to shatter it. The result? A backhanded compliment of the hybrid variety: “You’re pretty . . . for a black girl.”

The Millennial Generation has been called every variation of lazy ingrate that the Baby Boomers and Generation X-ers could think of. And with YOLO as a point of reference, who could blame them?

Beneath the ear-worming melodies and undeniable pop-froth of the '90s was a latent feminist agenda that's still informing the woman I am today.