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 JAN

LOVE STORIES

PRIYANKA
CHOPRA
BARRIERS AND
LANDING
THE MAN OF
HER DREAMS

MORE
COUPLES
WE ADORE
BIG, BOLD
FASHION THE
FOR 2019 PERFECT

IT’S A
PLATE?
WHEN CLEAN
EATING GOES

NEW
TOO FAR

LOSING MY

DAY! RELIGION
A CATHOLIC
RECKONING
 January 2019

LOVE STORIES
Superagent Ali Bird

MAK EU P, ROMY SO LE IMANI; H AIR, ESTHE R LAN G HAM. S E T DES IGN , H ANS MAHA RAWAL . DE TAILS, SE E IN TH IS ISSUE .
(ABOVE LEFT) met
photographer Cass
Bird (ABOVE RIGHT) 22
years ago. A few false
starts later, they’ve
10 the most defining Jake Gyllenhaal 72 runways were spent the past fifteen
Masthead looks involve a return to the stage Walk This Way all about easy years in lockstep with
carefully crafted in Sea Wall/A Life. Alex Poots and pieces and the their children (FROM FAR
14 beauty moment By Adam Green Kathryn Spellman bold gesture LEFT), Leo, 10, and Mae,
Editor’s Letter light up the town 8. A growing Instagram
39 56 with their cultural 96 fandom follows along as
16 Head over Easy Street dynamism. By Index they share the honest,
Heels Wearing modern Dodie Kazanjian Layer up with messy vulnerability of
Up Front Through many pieces steeped in pieces neither being a partner and a
As Church scandals text messages, seventies nostalgia, 76 his nor hers— parent in 2019.
keep emerging, Priyanka Chopra KiKi Layne and A Noble Pursuit they’re ours Photographed by
Mary Beth Keane— and Nick Jonas’s Stephan James
mother of two Marella Caracciolo Cass Bird.
love story was find love in Harlem Chia visits a French 100 Fashion Editor:
young boys—faces actually two years
a painful choice artist and his wife, Last Look Jorden Bickham.
in the making. By 68 who are reinventing
Abby Aguirre Philip & Erdem an ancestral
22
The designing château Cover Look
V Life 50 duo have been Golden Girl
Actress Thomasin Game On inseparable since 82
McKenzie proves Actor Priyanka Chopra wears a Tom Ford
Louisa Thomas 2003 and make it Fuzzy Logic dress. To get this look, try: Rouge Dior in #964
she’s one to meets Caroline official this summer Patchy underarms
watch; spotlight Ambitious Matte, Dior 5 Couleurs in #797 Feel,
Wozniacki and and furry legs Dior Backstage Face & Body Foundation in 4.5N,
on orthorexia, the David Lee, 70 find favor with a
darker side of clean Diorshow Brow Styler in #002 Universal Dark
sports’most Carlo & Daniela new generation. Brown, Diorshow Pump ’N’ Volume Waterproof
eating romantic couple By Maya Singer
A true New Yorker Mascara in #090 Black Pump, and Diorskin
is transplanted Mineral Nude Bronze in #004 Warm Sunrise.
33 54 to L.A. His model 84 All by Dior Beauty. Details, see In This Issue.
Evening News Front Men girlfriend keeps Practical Magic Photographed by Annie Leibovitz.
On the red carpet, Tom Sturridge and it bicoastal This season’s Fashion Editor: Tonne Goodman.

8 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM

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 ANNA WINTOUR
Editor in Chief

Fashion Director VIRGINIA SMITH

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Letter from the Editor
POWER OF TWO
LEFT: PRIYANKA CHOPRA (IN SÉZANE) AND NICK JONAS,
PHOTOGRAPHED BY ANNIE LEIBOVITZ. BELOW: STEPHAN
JAMES (IN TELFAR) AND KIKI LAYNE (IN PYER MOSS),
PHOTOGRAPHED BY TYLER MITCHELL. DETAILS, SEE IN THIS ISSUE.

Doubling Up
AT THIS TIME OF YEAR, we’re all usually urged to look
forward—to brightly face the future and give plenty of
thought to the unknown. So perhaps we’re being a little
counterintuitive with our first issue of 2019: We’ve chosen
to focus on the happiness and contentment to be found in
the familiar. This January’s Vogue is devoted to couples—
to what it means to be in love and to know someone deeply. Priyanka’s wedding dress: Ralph Lauren, which is entirely
There’s something about these stories of togetherness, both fitting given that Ralph inadvertently played matchmaker
real and fictional, that makes for joyful and optimistic when he invited Priyanka and Nick to sit at his table at the
reading, a salve for the last twelve months, when it has 2017 Met gala. Congratulations, too, to the great Ralph
often felt like human interaction has been coarsened to a Lauren, who was awarded an honorary knighthood by
sad and worrying degree. Queen Elizabeth II in November.
That we’re focused on celebrating some of our favorite Elsewhere, photographer Tyler Mitchell and stylist Camilla
duos of the moment is entirely serendipitous. Months ago, we Nickerson created a fashion story starring the actors KiKi
decided to feature Priyanka Chopra on the cover—the first Layne and Stephan James, who appear in If Beale Street
Indian woman to achieve that distinction. Only afterward Could Talk, Barry Jenkins’s adaptation of the James Baldwin
did her relationship with Nick Jonas become something of novel. There is plenty to admire in this movie, his follow-up
a national obsession. We’ve been intrigued for some time by to Moonlight, not least KiKi’s terrific performance, which
this beautiful and intelligent actor, who arrived in the United marks her feature-film debut. But it’s the sentiment that
States to build a career for herself after achieving success in Barry has drawn from the story that makes such a profound
Indian cinema while also being staunchly committed to her impact, speaking to the way that romance can flourish de-
philanthropic endeavors. In many respects, she has forged spite the narrative of racial injustice that lies at the center of
an entirely new idea of global stardom. Baldwin’s novel. Like much of this January’s issue, it speaks
The couples theme was sparked by seeing how Priyanka to the power of lasting love.
and Nick were so unabashedly open about falling in love
with each other—culminating in their (by the time you
read this) getting married in Rajasthan in India. It was
as though a cross-cultural romantic comedy were being
played out right in front of us—and it was heartwarming
to see how much pleasure we could all take from that. Inci-
dentally, Abby Aguirre’s story also reveals who’s designing

14 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM

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Up Front
A Catholic
Reckoning
What does it mean to be
party to abuse? As Church
scandals keep emerging,
Mary Beth Keane—mother
of two young boys—faces
a painful choice.
T
he joke about my younger son, Emmett, is
that at age seven he’d still crawl back into
my womb if he could. He’s more reserved
than his gregarious older brother, and sticks
to me in social situations that overwhelm
him. He worries about things that wouldn’t
even occur to another child. Recently I picked him up from
a birthday party and also collected the sons of two close
friends to spare them a trip. Walking across the parking lot
in a foursome of first-grade boys, Emmett kept glancing
at another classmate who was leaving with his mother.
Later he told me he worried the boy had seen the group
heading to our car and thought Emmett was having a “big
fun playdate” and hadn’t invited him, and that his feelings
might have been hurt.
Tall, with skinny limbs and hair the color of a penny, Em-
mett often chooses a collection of Bible stories my mother
gave him years ago as a bedtime book. One evening he asked
me about “the holy cracker” he’s going to get to try soon,
when he makes his first Holy Communion in second grade.
“That’s the Eucharist,” I told him. “The priest performs
a miracle on the altar, and that cracker becomes the body
of Christ.” Like all things to do with Catholic doctrine, it
16 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM
feels insane when said aloud. When it comes to religion, the
only concern my kids really have is whether everyone who’s
good ends up in Heaven. I’ve decided to simply say yes. Will
the dog go to Heaven? Yes. The same Heaven as us? Yes. I
deliver these answers with total confidence, as if I know.
“I didn’t realize you were still practicing,” a friend said to
me not long ago, when I mentioned having to drive Emmett
to religion class. It’s true that I’m not quiet about my frustra-
tions with the Church. But that’s part of being Catholic, es-
pecially in recent years: exchanging complaints about the lack
of progress, the treatment of women, gays, divorcées. Really,
the requisite reiteration of how appalling, disgusting, and
heartbreaking the revelations have been dates back to 2002,
when The Boston Globe broke its story of the widespread
sexual-abuse crisis in the Boston Archdiocese. For years,
Catholics have been saying that hopefully the institution is
finally taking a hard look at itself. And then, typically, the
conversation moves on to CYO basketball or the potholes in
the church parking lot. There isn’t a Catholic I’ve met who
TAKING STOCK
REVELATIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND COVER-UP
HAVE DOGGED THE CHURCH FOR MORE THAN A DECADE.
ABOVE: A CONSISTORY CEREMONY IN ROME.
 doesn’t have at least one major
criticism, who doesn’t leave some
rules aside while following others.
The important part seems to be
that we count ourselves among
the tribe.
My husband and I take our chil-
dren to weekly Mass only occa-
sionally, but we were both raised
in strict Irish Catholic house-
holds. And though I think I’ve al-
ways been a skeptic—I remember
it dawning on me as a child that I
was Catholic only because of the
family I was born into—there are
aspects of the Mass ritual that are
meaningful to me. The Penitential
Act, which takes place at the be-
ginning of every Roman Catholic
Mass, is at its heart a declaration
of fault. It’s a confession made
to God, but I’ve always consid-
ered it an accounting to myself,
a moment out of time to explore
my conscience, to call myself on
my own mistakes. There have also
been times in my life when I’ve
sought out the comfort and sol-
itude of an empty church, and it
has felt like a homecoming, not
too different from entering my
childhood house after a long ab-
sence and finding everything is
where it’s supposed to be.
In the suburb of New York City where my husband and I
live, there are seven Catholic churches within five miles, so
it was easy, when we moved here, to become parishioners
and decide that we would baptize our sons and get them
through Reconciliation and First Communion. These
are the first of the Catholic sacraments: Reconciliation
is when a child confesses his or her sins to a priest, who
then prescribes a penance to cleanse the soul. First Holy
Communion comes a few weeks after, the day a child
is allowed to take the Eucharist—the body of Christ.
There are more sacraments to come, but from that point,
we thought, Owen and Emmett could decide what they
wanted for themselves.
The religion classes made us a little uneasy, but we still
R EMO CASIL LI/CAME RA PRESS/REDUX
glance at their homework now and then to make sure there
is nothing homophobic or misogynistic, and when we find
only crayoned pictures of Mary and Jesus, donkeys and
sheep, we tell ourselves it’s all fine. I know there’s a comfort
in having my children do the same things I did, the same
thing my sisters did, my cousins. One day, they might want
to seek comfort in an empty church, and I don’t want
them to feel like trespassers. If cultural Catholic is not a
real designation, as its equivalents are in other religions,
then I decided some time ago that I could at least be a
casual Catholic—a category that might protect me from
the scandals that keep emerging. The people who are truly
complicit, I thought, are the ones who choose to live in a
state of willed ignorance, and that’s not me, so I’m spared.
It all seemed easy until last summer, until Catholics who
live within the Archdiocese of New York woke up to an
emailed statement from Cardinal Timothy Dolan about
allegations of abuse that had been made against Cardinal
Theodore McCarrick, archbishop emeritus of Washing-
ton, D.C. How to explain to non-Catholics how important
cardinals are in the Church hierarchy? As my husband told
our boys, cardinals are the bosses of the priests. Cardinals
are the ones who choose the pope. The email also linked to
a statement from McCarrick, who wrote that “while [he has]
absolutely no recollection of this reported abuse . . . [he is]
sorry for the pain the person who brought the charges has
gone through, as well as for the scandal such charges cause
our people.” The victim was a teenager at the time.
I read Dolan’s statement first, and then McCarrick’s, and
then read secular news coverage, which included information
those statements did not: that the abuse took place at St.
Patrick’s Cathedral as the victim, an altar boy, was getting
measured for a cassock to serve Christmas Mass. It hap-
pened again one year later. According to the victim’s lawyer,
McCarrick told the boy to never tell anyone.
But what troubled me most were not the details of the
abuse, as upsetting as they were, but the fact that every sen-
tence of Cardinal Dolan’s statement aimed to minimize the
fact the allegations were found credible, and congratulate
the Catholic Church for looking into it in the first place.
The reader is reminded of how long ago the abuse occurred,
and that McCarrick is retired now. The subtext, of course,
questions whether this is still relevant, asks, “Haven’t we all
gotten past these complaints? He’s an old man, after all.”
In the months since, the story has grown larger and
much darker. Further al-
legations have been made
against McCarrick, also It’s simply no longer
claiming that the highest
members of the Church hi- possible to be a casual
erarchy, all the way up to Catholic in the way
Popes Benedict and Fran-
cis, knew about the accu- I used to imagine
sations at least since 2013. myself. Probably it
The inner machinations of
the Church—conservative was never possible
hardliners versus moder-
ates—are the subject of a longer essay, but the point is
that no one can be trusted. Sure enough, in the middle
of the McCarrick scandal came the most harrowing
revelations of all: a grand-jury report from Pennsylvania
concluding that Catholic officials systematically covered
up the abuse of more than 1,000 children by a network of
300 priests over the past 70 years. The detail that makes
my heart pound hardest: that abuser priests gave their
favorite victims gold crucifix necklaces to mark them
for other predator priests. The revelations U P F R O N T>1 8
17
Up Front Church Controversy
are so enormous that they’re almost incomprehensible,
and so I’ve forced myself to sit with them, think of all
the day-to-day deception that must have been required
to make this network hum. I’ve thought back on other
dark periods of Catholicism’s 2,000-year history and
feel a jolt when I realize the most shameful may be right
now, during my lifetime. And this is just what has come
to light. This is just Pennsylvania. Since this report, the
attorneys general of twelve more states and the District
of Columbia have begun collecting records from local
dioceses. The Department of Justice recently announced a
federal investigation and, late in October, issued a request
to every Roman Catholic diocese in the United States not
to destroy documents related to sexual abuse. Is there a
Catholic in this world who honestly believes they won’t
find anything?
Y
es, many of the abuses in question took
place a generation ago, but the way we dis-
cuss them happens now. I attended Mass
after the Pennsylvania revelations just to
hear what our local priest would say, but his
references were so vague they were easy to
miss (prayers for victims, prayers for the abusers). Most of the
priests who committed these crimes are still alive, still unpun-
ished, even promoted. When
I read the extremely guarded,
carefully vetted statements from
the archdiocese and measure
them up against what’s being re-
ported in the news, I know that
not a single thing has changed
except that the Church has a
better public-relations team
than it did in 2002.
Approximately two years
ago, our local parish in Pearl
River, New York, announced
its participation in an arch-
diocesan-wide, four-years-
long “Renew and Rebuild”
campaign to raise money that
would go toward improve-
ments in church buildings,
struggling Catholic schools,
and support for clergy, among FAMILY TIES
other things. At meetings and KEANE, AUTHOR OF THE FORTHCOMING NOVEL ASK AGAIN, YES.
in church communiqués about WITH HER SONS, EMMETT, 7, AND OWEN, 10.
everything from basketball to
the annual picnic, parishioners, particularly those with
young children, get chastised for registering our sons and
daughters for expensive activities, for taking pricey va-
cations. We’re getting shamed for lives that are frivolous,
according to Church leaders, and we’re reminded that God
should come first. But what they mean is that the Church
should come first. And when I’m in the audience during
one of these speeches, where grown men and women with
jobs and mortgages and a plethora of worries get spoken
18 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM
to like we’re still a group of children wearing our school
uniforms, or when I get an update about the new church
roof or some other meaningless thing in the mail, I feel
such cognitive dissonance that I’m left near speechless. I
simply can’t set aside the fact that priests just like the ones
at the parishes near my home, men who were held in the
highest regard by their communities, were grooming little
children and that their bosses’ bosses’ bosses likely knew it
and, worse, helped them hide it. To me it’s like being asked
to go about my normal business even after noticing my
neighbor burying bodies in the backyard. Oh, that, more
than one fellow Catholic has said in a tired tone when
I want to talk about Pennsylvania or McCarrick or the
Vatican a little more. Yes, that. That is the headline. That’s
the only thing that should be discussed from the altar until
the Church heals itself. Isn’t it? How can any person sit
through lectures about how to be and how to think when
all of this was just sitting there, below the surface, covered
up by the same people who were telling us we were sinners?
And I realized: It’s simply no longer possible to be a casual
Catholic in the way I used to imagine myself. Probably it was
never possible. To be in this Church, even in a small way, is
to be party to abuse. I can’t solve the Church’s problems,
obviously. Likely, no one can. But I can do the one thing
within my power: leave and take my children with me. Maybe
if more leave, and those pews
(and coffers) are finally empty,
then the Church will do a more
sincere self-examination.
So now I have a little boy, and a
hand-me-down suit in a closet,
and the burden of telling him
that he’s not going to taste that
holy cracker after all. He knows
this is big, and it worries him. I
can see it. For a year now every-
one in his life has been making
references to his Communion
day, whether we’ll have a par-
ty, who we’ll invite. Mostly he’s
envious of his brother, who got
to find out what that cracker
tastes like.
“It tastes like nothing,”
Owen offers.
Emmett wonders if not
making Communion will hurt
God’s feelings, and if he’ll still
get into Heaven. “Yes, you’ll still get into Heaven,” I tell
him. I list all the people he knows who are not Catholic, not
COU RTESY O F MART Y H ICKEY
Christian, not anything, and ask him if the God he imagines
would exclude such great people.
“But are you sure?” he pushes. “How do you know?”
For a second I’m rattled that he’s questioning me, but
then I’m overwhelmed with relief. Yes, I want to cry, ask the
questions, examine the answers, decide for yourself what to
think of things. 
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 ON AN ABSURDLY BEAUTIFUL autumn day, Thomasin
McKenzie is contemplating the blazing trees of Brooklyn’s
Prospect Park, which are peacocking in bursts of reds and
yellows. It was McKenzie’s own radiance—as well as her
deep love of the outdoors—that helped secure her breakout
role in last year’s Leave No Trace, Debra Granik’s quietly
devastating film about a thirteen-year-old girl and her
combat-veteran father living off the grid in the Oregon
forest. Obsessed with the script, the Kiwi actress sent
Granik videos of herself as well as “a little self-portrait,”
as McKenzie calls it. “I got a GoPro, and I took it on a
run with me through the New Zealand bush, so you see the
landscape and my dog, Toto, behind me.” Blown away by
the candidate, Granik cast her from afar—and changed
the character’s name from Caroline to Tom. “She provided
these textured layers” to the script, Granik says.
22 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM
The film awed critics, and McKenzie’s heart-stopping per- HAIR, ADAM SZABO; MAKEUP, INGEBORG. PRODUCED BY SHAY JONSON FOR CARTEL & CO.
formance heralded the arrival of a star. (It bears mentioning
that Granik’s previous feature, Winter’s Bone, introduced
another unknown teenager, named Jennifer Lawrence.) But
McKenzie, eighteen, isn’t exactly new to the game. Her mother
is an acting coach, her father a writer and director, her three
siblings have all worked in the family business, and McKenzie
has been performing since before she can remember. “I enjoy
the research just as much as I enjoy the actual acting,” she
says. For example: visiting the Oregon nudist colony where
part of Leave No Trace was shot. “Some of the nudists were
in the scenes, but they had to sign a contract saying they
wouldn’t be naked while we were there,” she explains with
a laugh. “Tom’s coming to the table with a good sense of
humor about the racket around her,” observes Ben Foster,
her costar in Leave No Trace. TA L E N T> 2 4
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METHODS, NOT MIRACLES
V L IFE
This year we’ll be seeing a lot more of McKenzie, whose Island sex worker who has gone missing. It’s emotionally
upcoming roles include a Jewish girl in the World War II tricky material, and though she is now technically an adult,
dark comedy Jojo Rabbit (alongside Scarlett Johansson her parents and adorable eleven-year-old-sister, Davida—
and Rebel Wilson); the love interest of who rolled up to the interview with her
1870s Australian outlaw Ned Kelly in nose deep in a young-adult novel—are
True History of the Kelly Gang; as well “I enjoy the research keeping her company for the time being.
as sister to none other than Timothée just as much as I enjoy The four of them have made a temporary
Chalamet in the Netflix drama The home base in the Fort Greene neighbor-
King. The actress is still processing the the actual acting” hood of Brooklyn.
way her career has taken off. “Some- With a trip back home for the holidays
times I feel like I’m floating above everything,” she says, on the horizon, McKenzie looks forward to attending music
fiddling with the shoelaces on her high-top Vans. festivals with friends, taking walks in the bush, and hanging
This morning, McKenzie is taking a momentary break out with her grandmother, who lives on the ground floor
from the shooting of another Netflix production, the true- of the family home and remains a working actor at age 91.
crime drama Lost Girls, in which she plays the sister of a Long “She’s an inspiration to me,” she says.—LAUREN MECHLING

ADWOA ABOAH
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V L IFE
FAS H I O N
Still Shining
The latest creations from two very different jewelry doyennes
remind us why their work never loses its luster.
JACQUELINE
RABUN
THE LIVING ROOM–CUM–ATELIER
of Jacqueline Rabun is a juxtaposi-
tion of contrasts: The wood-paneled,
light-flooded loft in Clerkenwell in
central London, designed by archi-
tect Amin Taha, resonated with her
immediately. “I’m a big fan of the ar-
chitect John Lautner, and when I first
walked in a year ago, it really gave me
that feeling of spaces in California,”
says Rabun, dressed in a Comme des
Garçons skirt and jacket. The room,
like her jewelry, challenges and beguiles,
with a mélange of Scandinavian and
contemporary African influences,
which include a Finn Juhl sofa, a
Studiomama Pallet Project floor lamp,
vintage stools picked up in Senegal, and
contemporary sculpture by Nigerian
artist Niyi Olagunju. “I love the way
that objects sit in a space,” Rabun says,
“and I am obsessed about the way a
piece of jewelry sits on the body.”
26 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM
Cross-cultural influences come nat-
urally to the California native, who has
made London—where she began her
career as a self-taught artist making
experimental pieces for herself in silver
and gold—her home since the nineties.
“At the time, a lot of designers—Alex-
ander McQueen and Hussein Chalayan,
for example—were launching their
own brands,” Rabun says. “There was
a lovely creative energy in the air.” Her
own work soon captured the minimalist
mood of the time, with strong, sensual
pieces that were innately gender neutral
quickly catching the attention of collec-
tors, creatives, and women ranging from
Christy Turlington and Grace Jones to
Madonna and Mary, Crown Princess
of Denmark. Almost three decades
later—as notions of value and perma-
nence are prized once again—the or-
ganic, sculptural sensibility of Rabun’s
work seems more relevant than ever.
In addition to her own line, Rabun
has a long relationship with heritage
jewelry brand Georg Jensen, for which
she has designed a number of pieces,
including the still sought-after Cave
LEFT: JACQUELINE
RABUN’S LONDON
LIVING ROOM.
ABOVE:
AT HOME.
ELEGANT VARIATION
JACQUELINE RABUN
18K-GOLD BANGLE AND RING;
JACQUELINERABUN.COM.
Ring, an audacious take on the cocktail
ring. Georg Jensen recently relaunched
Rabun’s Offspring collection—first
introduced two decades earlier. “I de-
signed it when my son was very young,”
Rabun says. “For me, it represented the
STILL LIF ES: COURTESY OF BRAN DS.
unbreakable bond between mother and
child.” (Rabun’s son, Wyatt, is now 24.)
“I like my designs to have a soul,
Rabun says. “The most important
aspect is the emotions they evoke—
that magical moment when a piece be-
comes deeply connected to the wearer.”
—MAZZI ODU
 ART

Staying Current
If your museum is poised to reopen after years
of renovations, a Nina Chanel Abney exhibition augurs
a solid beginning. “She is an artist who thinks about
history while looking at what’s relevant in the moment,”
says Cheryl Brutvan, curator of the Norton Museum of
Art in West Palm Beach, Florida, which will debut a new
campus this month following a three-year-long upgrade.
Abney started out sketching cartoon characters and
became more serious about painting in high school.
After a year working on the line at a Ford Motor plant,
the Illinois native headed to Parsons. For her MFA thesis
show, she exhibited a large-scale painting of her white
classmates, dressed in prison-garb orange and painted
as black, while a version of Abney, depicted as a white
armed guard, stood to the side. The painting, Class of
2007, quickly got her gallery representation.
Abney can’t exactly tell you what’s coming
to the Norton, though she is happy to list aesthetic
ingredients, which are, in this case, a tour through her
childhood: “I’m looking at Care Bears, My Little Pony,
black light stuff, and Lisa Frank folders.” If you were
a girl in eighth grade in Harvey, Illinois, she tells me,
speaking from her Jersey City studio, all you wanted
COLOR RIOT were Lisa Frank folders. “My mom,” she jokes, “was not
SOLANGE SAPPHIRE,
RUBY, EMERALD, necessarily there for that.” Crucially, current events
AND LACQUER DROP are also reflected: “As I put the headlines in my work,”
EARRINGS, SET IN
18K GOLD; Abney adds, “I’m trying to stay neutral, so that the
SOLANGE.CO.UK. viewer can work it out for themselves.” It’s this attention
to the difference between a polemic and a great
painting that makes Abney’s work so excitingly open.
“Art is for everybody,” says Brutvan, “but Nina has really
taken this to heart.”—ROBERT SULLIVAN
AB NEY: © NIN A C HAN EL ABNEY. P HOTO BY J. CALDWE LL . COURTESY OF
T HE ARTIST, JACK SH AIN MAN GALLE RY, NEW YO RK , AND TH E N ASHE R
MUS EUM O F ART, DUR HAM. DETAILS, SE E IN THIS ISSU E .

introduced pieces with a kind of freehand scribble, an un-

fettered gesture that adds a casual impulsiveness to exquisite
fine jewelry. The pieces are precious, yet their attitude is
anything but, underscoring our desire today for uncon-
ventional beauty. “I’ve always loved the idea of hiding the
intrinsic value of things, so that only you and a few others
are clued in,” Azagury-Partridge says. Her work has been SHAPE AND FORM
bursting with diamonds, amethysts, rubies, emeralds, fire ABNEY IN FRONT OF
UNTITLED, 2017,
opals, and sapphires layered in lacquer, with pendants, COMMISSIONED BY
rings, and earrings emphasizing raw creativity—and the THE NASHER MUSEUM
OF ART AT DUKE
sheer bliss of color. “Color is feel-good,” she says. “Certain UNIVERSITY.
combinations can trigger major feelings of joy—that’s my
whole point when I design.”—MARLEY MARIUS

27
V L IFE
H E A LT H
Clean
Plate
Is orthorexia—an unhealthy
obsession with healthy food—
the eating disorder for the
digital age? asks Jancee Dunn.
AFTER EMILY FONNESBECK HAD her
first child, she was eager to get her body
back. As a registered dietitian, she knew
what she had to do: She started with at least
an hour of cardio six days a week, and cut
out processed foods. (Gluten, dairy, and
sugar soon followed.)
The weight slipped off. But Fonnesbeck,
a 36-year-old Utah native with a creamy
complexion and a chestnut bob, was plagued
by fatigue and headaches. “I didn’t see that
as a result of overexercise and under-eating,”
she says. “I saw it as a sign of ‘inflammation’
from something I was eating. If I could just
find the culprit, I would feel better.”
A clean diet was the ideal, and hers would be immaculate.
Fonnesbeck eliminated all animal products and nuts, then
most fruits, until she was down to a random handful of foods
she deemed “pure” enough: purple cabbage, corn tortillas,
brown rice, lentils, kale, and tahini.
Her obsession intensified until, while preparing for a vaca-
tion, she sat down and informed her husband that she wasn’t
going. “I would have needed to pack all of my own food, and
it just felt easier to stay home,” she recalls. Her husband, who
had grown increasingly worried about her, produced an article
on a little-known eating disorder called orthorexia nervosa.
Fonnesbeck was flooded with relief. Her behavior not only
followed a recognizable pattern, it had a name.
Coined by Colorado physician Steven Bratman, M.D.,
in 1997, orthorexia (Greek for “correct appetite”) nervosa
(Latin for “nervous”) is an unhealthy obsession with healthy
eating. Unlike most other eating disorders, it focuses on
the quality of food rather than the quantity. Often it starts
innocently with the desire to eat “clean,” a ubiquitous term
to describe the act of mindfully ingesting only whole foods
in their most natural state. But it progressively hardens
into a rigid eating style that can crowd out other activities
and relationships.
28 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM
PERFECT PALATE
IN THE QUEST FOR
VIRTUOUS EATING,
THERE CAN BE A
RISK IN TAKING IT
TO EXTREMES.
PHOTOGRAPHED
BY ERIC BOMAN,
VOGUE, 2016.
As of now, orthorexia is not formally recognized in the Di-
agnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM),
the handbook used by doctors, so it’s difficult to get precise
numbers of those affected. But as clean eating becomes an
aspirational, highly Instagrammable, and celebrity-endorsed
lifestyle, this will likely change, suggests Paula Quatromoni,
D.Sc., an associate professor of nutrition and epidemiology
at Boston University, and one of the country’s leading experts
on sports nutrition and eating disorders. “It’s probably just
a matter of time,” she says. “This is affecting a huge segment
of the population.”
The desire for rules and rituals surrounding food is under-
standable—a reasonable reaction against genetically modified
crops; scary additives; contradictory and confusing food stud-
ies; pesticide residues; and lax FDA regulations. But things
get problematic when clean eating becomes an unrealistic
quest for perfect health. According to the National Eating
Disorders Association, orthorexia symptoms range from the
compulsive checking of ingredients and meal planning to
cutting out entire food groups with little rationale, to distress
when unalloyed foods aren’t available. Some orthorexics begin
taking large amounts of supplements, powders, and probiotics
to make their food even more nutrient-dense; H E A LT H > 3 0
V L IFE
others stop going out socially. Rachael Steil, 27, a former
All-American runner from Grand Rapids, Michigan, ate so
many fruits and vegetables while struggling with orthorexia
six years ago that her skin turned orange. “My sister asked
if I had gotten a spray tan,” says Steil,
who is now an advocate for athletes
with eating disorders. “People who aren’t
Another widespread symptom is making those healthy
a fixation with the diets of others—
made infinitely easier with social me- choices 24/7 are the ones
dia. A 2017 study published in the who are judged”
journal Eating and Weight Disorders
found a link between Instagram use
and orthorexia, “with no other social-media channel having
this effect.” There are more than 41 million #cleaneating
hashtags on the photo-sharing app, a vast sea of smoothies
and sprouted salads, where 37,000 people are moved to
“like” blogger and wellness entrepreneur Ella Mills’s post
of her chickpea-and-mushroom lunch. Now everyone can
compare: Whose chia-pudding bowl is more virtuous?
“Social media has almost normalized orthorexia,” says
Quatromoni. “People who aren’t making those healthy
choices 24/7 are the ones who are judged.”
This normalizing sheen may partly be the reason some
orthorexia is not taken seriously. Which is unfortunate, says
Jennifer Thomas, Ph.D., codirector of the Eating Disorders
Clinical and Research Program at Massachusetts General
Hospital. “We have so little empathy for people who are
affected by mental illness, particu-
larly eating disorders, which have
one of the highest mortality rates of
any mental illness,” she says. Under-
standing treatment options is crucial,
with many experts recommending
exposure and response prevention
(ERP), a common prescription for
obsessive compulsive disorders, as
well as cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) combined with
an eating regimen overseen by a nutrition professional. Med-
ication may also be prescribed for any underlying conditions,
such as anxiety or depression.
After two years of therapy, Fonnesbeck is now fully recov-
ered. One of the hardest issues to overcome, she admits, was
“the sense of superiority, that healthy eating is disciplined
and morally right.” But there is righteousness in flexibility
and variety. “Now my day doesn’t revolve around food,” she
says. “I feel free to travel, to dine out, to be fully present with
my children. Now I feel free to live.” 

Head First HAIR

Helen Reavey knows a thing or two

about the link between scalp health and
hair vitality. As a veteran of hairstylist
Sam McKnight’s backstage team,
she’s seen it play out at the end of a
monthlong fashion-show circuit and on
grueling press tours with her celebrity
clients, who include Tilda Swinton,
Alicia Keys, and Harry Styles. “You can
tell straightaway why the hair isn’t
styling properly,” Reavey says of how
underlying scalp irritation can affect
things like shine, volume, and bounce.
The issue is compounded by typical
shampoo (“an old-fashioned term for a
squeaky-clean feel”), which is designed CHILL FACTOR
to remove grease and excess product THE LINE’S THREE-PIECE
SYSTEM TAKES A
but often strips the hair and the SCALP-FIRST APPROACH
scalp, she explains. This tumultuous WITH COLD-PROCESSED
cycle was the impetus behind this BOTANICALS.

month’s Act+Acre, which the Irish-born

entrepreneur likes to call “the first
true hair-wellness line.” Inspired
by the boom in plant-based skin care
that is both gentle and increasingly
efficacious, the brand created by
The debut three-piece system begins
with the Scalp Detox pretreatment, a
blend of moringa oil and cooling vetiver
that moisturizes while dissolving
brunette shag benefited from an early,
personal product drop. There’s another
C HR ISTINE H AH N

Reavey and her husband, Colm Mackin,
uses natural ingredients and a novel
cold-processed technique (traditional
production involves heat, which can
weaken the potency of active seed oils).
buildup. In lieu of shampoo, there’s a
sulfate-free Hair Cleanse, followed by
a conditioner with cuticle-smoothing
amaranth oil. “I’ve seen a lot more
growth because my hair is not so
upside, too. “This ritual in the shower,
it’s the only time that you don’t have
your phone on you,” Reavey says of the
myriad head-clearing possibilities.
—LAURA REGENSDORF

30 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM

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 Evening News
Forget fistfuls of diamonds and sky-high heels. For the red carpet’s leading ladies, the most career-
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Red Alert
From crimson to candy apple, rust to rose, few
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36 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM

 Face Forward
Any Hollywood star acquainted with
the paparazzi circus understands the
value of flash-resistant makeup. It’s
less about perfection and more about
playing to the cameras—which are
now high-definition and found in
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As modern-day foundation formu-
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37
 January 2019
LOVE STORIES

Head
He proposed after how many weeks? But as actor
pop idol
Priyanka Chopra and
Nick Jonas tell it, their love story was two years
(and many, many text messages) in the making.
Abby Aguirre gets the story. Photographed by Annie Leibovitz.

Over Heels
THE FIRST TIME NICK JONAS met Priyanka Chopra, he
got down on one knee.
Jonas tells me the story on a sunny afternoon in Las Vegas,
in an expansive suite at the Wynn. He has just flown in to
meet Chopra, who has been here a few days for a charity
event. The newly engaged couple haven’t seen each other
in weeks—not since a trip to India, where, by the time you
read this, they will have wed in a pink sandstone-and-marble
palace in Rajasthan.
By some miracle of genetics (or dermatology), Jonas, 26,
has the same fresh face that graced the cover of Tiger Beat
ten years ago, but his once-wavy hair is now cropped short,
and even black long sleeves cannot hide the small mountain
ranges that are his biceps. Though their age difference has
been a point of obsession in the press (Chopra, at 36, is ten
years older), Jonas seems the more senior and serious of the
two. He moves around with a quiet, clandestine intention, as
though, in addition to ordering room service—two turkey
burgers, no buns—he might be looking for his house slippers.
(“I call him Old Man Jonas,” Chopra says when I note this.)
Seated primly on the couch in a mustard-and-black floral
sheath by Christian Dior and black heels, Chopra is chatty,
exuberant—and psychotically pretty. Sophia Loren–in–
her–heyday pretty. Take-her-to-a-Dodgers-game-and-you-
will-end-up-in-the-owner’s-box pretty. (That happened on
their third date.)
Jonas uncorks a bottle of champagne and pours us mi-
mosas. The bended-knee encounter took place at the Vanity
 Fair Oscars party last year, he explains. Jonas was hanging
out at the bar, dressed in a velvet suit, a white rose tucked
into his breast pocket. He noticed Chopra breezing through,
in a long black sequined Michael Kors Collection dress.
“And I put my drink down,” Jonas tells me, “get on one
knee—this is in front of a bunch of people—and I say,
‘You’re real. Where have you been all my life?’ Like, loud.”
Nick and Priyanka were not perfect strangers. They’d
been texting each other for months because—well, because
this is a 2019 love story. (More on the texting later.) Chopra
had a car waiting and a flight to India to catch, but that
didn’t stop Jonas from suggesting a drink. “I looked at
Anj” (her manager, Anjula Acharia), Chopra says. “And I
said, ‘Five minutes.’ ”
It would be almost a year and a half before Jonas pro-
posed. Naturally, they would spend most of that time not
seeing each other. Yes, Ralph Lauren invited them to attend
the 2017 Met gala together—not knowing anything about
their months-long text flirtation. And yes, they met for a
proper drink a week before the Met at the Carlyle hotel in
New York. Chopra ended up inviting Jonas to her apartment
that evening—even though her mother was home watching
Law & Order in her nightgown. (Introductions were made,
and Jonas confirms that Chopra’s mother, Madhu, was
indeed wearing her nightgown.)
All along there were signs, chemistry, a mysterious fa-
miliarity building. Looking back, Chopra can pinpoint the
moment she felt a subtle shift. She was on a date in L.A. with
Jonas and he said, “I love the way you look at the world.
I love the drive you have.” “As a girl, I’ve never had a guy

P
tell me, ‘I like your ambition,’ ” Chopra says. “It’s always
been the opposite.”

riyanka Chopra is undoubtedly one

of the biggest movie stars in India.
She’s acted in more than 50 films,
including India’s first superhero
franchise, Krrish. She played an
autistic runaway in Barfi!, India’s
submission to the 2012 Academy
Awards. For her portrayal of an
exploited model in a 2008 drama
about the Indian fashion industry
called, simply, Fashion, she won a National Film Award—
India’s equivalent of an Oscar.
But movie star doesn’t begin to convey Chopra’s place in
Indian culture. Having become famous at the age of seven-
teen, in 2000, when she was one of three women crowned
Miss India, and then doubly famous later the same year
when she was crowned Miss World, Chopra is something
closer to a head of state, albeit one with a remarkably di-
verse portfolio.
Her production company, Purple Pebble Pictures, develops
movies across India’s regional film industries and in its vari-
ous languages: Sikkimese, Punjabi, Hindi, English. She has

WHEN NICK MET PRIYANKA . . .

Jonas shut down a Tiffany & Co. in London to buy Chopra’s
engagement ring, pictured here. She wears a Fendi dress. Jonas
wears an Officine Générale shirt. ATM Thomas Melillo T-shirt.
Fashion Editor: Tonne Goodman.

40
41
 a YouTube series in the works and has become something of
a tech investor as well, with a stake in the dating–and–social
media app Bumble, which she is helping to bring to India
this fall. (“It’s the idea of it that I love for India,” she tells
me. “It’s empowering girls to take control of their futures.
You want a career? Go online; pursue the person you want
to meet. Choose the kind of guy you like.”)
In recent years, Chopra has become well known in Amer-
ica thanks to the FBI drama Quantico—which made her
the first Indian-born woman to lead a prime-time network
show in the United States. Although Quantico was canceled
this year after three seasons, Chopra most definitely was
not. Come February she will star opposite Rebel Wilson in
the rom-com send-up Isn’t It Romantic.
“Movie star” doesn’t begin to
convey Chopra’s place in
Indian culture. Having become famous
at the age of 17, she is now something closer to
a head of state
Chopra, in other words, has done what no Indian super-
star before her has managed: cross over into Hollywood.
“High-profile people in the industry in India would be like,
‘It’s never happened before. It’s not going to happen. You’re
wasting your time,’ ” Acharia says. (By the way, Chopra is
the only celebrity managed by Acharia, whose primary
occupation is venture capitalist.)
At the news that Chopra was engaged to the youngest
Jonas Brother—and when photos surfaced of the couple’s
roka engagement ceremony in Mumbai, showing the onetime
teen idol in a kurta-pajama—a kind of mania broke out.
Partly it was the seeming abruptness. Didn’t they just start
dating? Is he old enough to get married?
If anything, the attention in India was more intense.
There Jonas has acquired a national nickname, a play on
the Hindi word jiju, which means “brother-in-law” or, more
precisely, “sister’s husband.” As of this summer, in Indian
newspaper headlines and across Indian social media, Jonas
is now referred to as “National Jiju.”
C
hopra and Jonas own, by my
count, six homes, spanning a dis-
tance from Mumbai to Mammoth,
California. Two weeks before our
lunch in Las Vegas, I meet Chopra
at her penthouse in Lower Man-
hattan, with its wraparound views
and its white fluffy rug, over which
Diana, her tiny terrier-chihuahua,
has free rein.
We’re not here long. Chopra is starving. She alerts her
security that we will be walking to a café nearby. We take
42
the elevator downstairs, where a swirl of staff appear and
disappear. One security guard remains, hovering within a
five-foot radius of Chopra at all times as we make our way
uptown on foot. Compared with Mumbai, I remark, where she
would be mobbed, New York must feel like a respite. Chopra
responds by identifying paparazzi positioned in various spots
along our route—“There you go,” she says, “there you go”—
their telephoto lenses protruding from behind parked cars.
We get to the café and settle into a table in the back. Soon
a waiter delivers what can only be described as wooden
slabs of deconstructed avocado toast. As we assemble our
respective toasts, Chopra tells me about her childhood.
Both of her parents were doctors in the Indian Army.
Her father, Ashok, was a surgeon. (He died of cancer in
2013.) Her mother, who now co-runs Chopra’s
film-production company, was a gynecologist.
They met at a party in Bareilly, a city in the north-
ern state of Uttar Pradesh, and were married ten
days later. Madhu jokes about her daughter’s
own fast engagement. “She’s like, ‘It’s in your
genes,’ ” says Chopra.
When she was twelve, Chopra visited rela-
tives in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and was amazed
that students didn’t wear uniforms. She asked
her mother to let her stay in America for high
school. “That was my teenage vanity,” Chopra
says, laughing. “I was like: I get to be cute? Girls
are wearing makeup and their hair down. Land
of the free, here I come!”
She spent part of her ninth-grade year in Cedar Rapids,
and the rest with relatives in Queens, New York. Tenth grade
she spent with extended family in Indianapolis, Indiana;
eleventh grade in Newton, Massachusetts. Her favorite
city was New York. “Because it was Queens,” she says. “So
diverse, so fun.” She discovered hip-hop. “I had braids. It
was a whole thing—puffer jackets, I was in love with Tupac.
I wore black for 20 days when he was killed.”
She was less crazy about Newton, where she was sub-
jected to racist taunts at school. (“Go back on the elephant
you came on,” she remembers. And “Oh, my God, do you
smell the curry?”) “It really marked the way I felt and my
self-esteem.” Chopra decided she’d had enough of the U.S.
“I wanted to go back to the uniform.”
Madhu barely recognized her daughter at the airport.
“I sent her there a lanky, carefree tomboy, and what came
back was a gorgeous female,” Madhu tells me later. “From
a chrysalis to a butterfly.” The attention from boys would
be so intense that Chopra’s father installed iron bars on
the windows of the family home. “The house looked like a
fortress,” Madhu remembers. (“A jail,” Chopra says.)
One day, Chopra’s brother Siddharth was paging through
one of his mother’s magazines when he happened upon an
advertisement for the Miss India contest. “This little fellow,
my son, all of nine years old, came into my room,” Madhu
remembers. “He said, ‘Is Didi beautiful?’ I said, ‘I think
GOLD RUSH
Chopra has more than 50 Indian films on her résumé.
Her ABC show Quantico ran three seasons, and next month
she stars opposite Rebel Wilson in the rom-com send-up
Isn’t It Romantic. Oscar de la Renta dress. Tom Ford shoes.
 learned acting on set, by doing.
“Life prepared me for it,” she
says. “All the moving around. I
knew what cultural differences
were. I knew that differences
don’t make us different. Dif-
ferences make us interesting.”
Chopra was ten years into
her movie career when, in
2010, she was contacted by
Acharia, who was riding a
wave of success of her own
and had found a business
partner in music executive
Jimmy Iovine. The two were
looking for an Indian artist
who could break into the
American market. By chance,
Acharia had seen Chopra in
a spoof hip-hop video a few
years earlier. Chopra agreed
to a meeting.
Her first single, “In My
City,” made with will.i.am,
was released as the official
theme song for the NFL’s
2013 Thursday Night Football
season. The reaction was hos-
tile. Social media erupted with
a flood of racist comments
(“Who is this Arab terrorist?”
and “She’s not American.
This is an American sport”).
“It took me back to being that
sixteen-year-old girl again,”
says Chopra. She pauses.
“I remember talking to my
manager and saying, ‘It will
always be like this.’ ”
So when, the following year,
the ABC casting executive
Keli Lee flew to Mumbai to
persuade Chopra to meet with
her about Quantico, Chopra
was hesitant. “The only thing I
so.’ He said, ‘Is she five-eight? I said yes. ‘Is she seventeen?’ told her was: I don’t want my ethnicity to lead the part that
I said yes. ‘OK, then why don’t you fill this out?’ ” (Later, I play,” Chopra says. “I want to have a job. I want to have a
when I reach Siddharth, who is now a chef in Mumbai, plot. I want to have a story.” The night the show premiered,
he tells me that Chopra had taken over his bedroom. The Chopra calmed her nerves the way she often does: She sat by
Miss India idea was his plot to reclaim it. “I thought, I’ll the pool of her Los Angeles hotel in a bikini, with a Bellini
get my room back.”) in hand. “Bikini Bellinis make me calm,” she says. “It’s my
Chopra was studying to become an engineer—but she happy place.” Quantico blew up and was ultimately broadcast
begged to go to the preliminary Miss India competition in 64 countries during its first season.
in Delhi. “I remember the doors of this hotel opening, Never, during all that time, had Chopra allowed herself
and these tall, lissome, gorgeous women walking out—in to be photographed with a boyfriend. “I’ve had that rule
my head, in slow motion—and big tears started rolling my whole life,” she says. “Never publicly acknowledge a
down my face,” Chopra says. “My mom said, ‘Don’t worry relationship. Ever.” But when I bring up Jonas, Chopra
about how you look. Speak so that they listen to you. Have covers her face with her hands. She visibly melts. “What
something to say.’ ” She won. is happening? I’ve not known myself like this,” she says.
She won the Miss World competition in London, too— “This guy turned me into such a girl! If I could blush, I’d
at which point the film offers started pouring in. Chopra be tomato red right now.”

44
LOVE IN THE
AFTERNOON
The couple, THIS PAGE
AND OPPOSITE, will
marry in a palace in
Rajasthan. On Chopra:
Paco Rabanne dress.
Me&Ro earring. On
Jonas: Hartford shirt.
 Cut back to Vegas, where Chopra and Jonas have now un-
earthed and reviewed the electronic record of their courtship.
“It was Nick who sent the first message,” Chopra says.
Jonas confirms this, deadpan. He’d sent a text to Graham
Rogers, Chopra’s costar on Quantico: “ ‘Priyanka. Is. Wow.’ ”
Jonas lets the words hang. “That’s not the way I talk.”
Next was a direct message from Jonas to Chopra on Twit-
ter: “I’m hearing from a few mutual friends that we should
meet.” I ask for the date. “September 8, 2016,” Jonas says.
“We checked this morning.” He goes on: “She responded
day of with a message that said, ‘My team can read this.
Why don’t you just text me.’ ” (Here Chopra erupts, like
she’s cheering at the Super Bowl: “Boy got the number!”)
They text back and forth, an epic correspon-
dence—“friendly with an eye toward flirtation,” Jonas says.
Then came the Oscars drink. Then the Carlyle and Chopra’s
apartment. “We hung out for a couple of hours,” Chopra
says. “He patted my back before he left.”
“There was no kiss. There was nothing,” Jonas confirms.
“There was a back pat,” Chopra says, with a look of pure
incredulity on her face.
“She’s still upset about that.”
Chopra demonstrates the platonic pat on Jonas’s back.
“Your mom was in the house!” Jonas says. “I thought it
was a respectful first night.”
“It was too respectful if you ask me.”
They had an incredible time at the Met and the after-
parties. Later, I call Nick’s brother Joe Jonas, who was also
there with his fiancée, the actor Sophie Turner. “I think she
kind of knocked him off his feet. He was just this little puppy
dog,” Joe tells me. Joe still has a photo he took of Jonas at
the end of the night, at the Carlyle: “He’s sitting on the floor.
And Sophie and I were just laughing at him. We’re like, Look
at this little smitten, drunk kid right now.”
Jonas and Chopra didn’t see each other for an entire year
after that. Not until the next Met gala, in fact, where, oddly,
a rule my whole life,” Chopra says.
“I’ve had
“I’ve never publicly acknowledged
a relationship. Ever”
they ran into each other on the red carpet. This, apparently,
was the pivotal point when timing began to work in their
favor. In Los Angeles later that month, Jonas invited Chopra
to a live performance of Beauty and the Beast. They met at
the Chateau Marmont. Jonas: “She walks into the Chateau,
and I feel an overwhelming sense of peace and understanding
about this next chapter of my life.” The next night, they went
to the Dodgers game. The following morning, Jonas called
his mother and informed her that he was going to marry
Chopra. “This is date three,” Chopra says.
Jonas proposed in Crete. As far as Chopra knew, it was to
be a birthday trip. Jonas waited until after midnight, so that
future engagement anniversaries would not coincide with
46
her birthday celebrations. He had the ring with him, having
shut down a Tiffany & Co. in London to pick it out with his
brothers a few weeks earlier.
“I got down on one knee, again, and I said: Will you make
me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” Jonas says.
“No joke—she took about 45 seconds. Forty-five seconds
of silence.” (Chopra says she was speechless.) Jonas pressed
on. “I’m going to put this ring on your finger now unless you
have any objections.”
The roka took place in August. “It was such an incredible
coming-together of two really ancient cultures and religions,”
Chopra says. Jonas’s father, a pastor, said a prayer. A Hindi
priest led blessings. “Nick did the Hindu prayers,” Chopra
says. “The prayers are in Sanskrit. Even I can’t say them.
C
But he did it in Sanskrit. The Indians were so impressed
with their National Jiju.”
hopra and Jonas are drawing up
long-term plans. They will still
do what they’ve done thus far, we
can assume, but philanthropy will
become an even bigger focus. We
can also assume they will have chil-
dren, possibly several. “My ultimate
dream is to have kids,” Chopra has
said in the past. “As many as I can.”
First, in December, Jonas and
Chopra will marry. They will have two ceremonies—a
traditional Indian wedding and a Christian service offici-
ated by Jonas’s father—each held in different spots at the
palace in Rajasthan.
The three-day extravaganza promises to be over the top.
“People will need vacations after this wedding,” Chopra says.
It will be, in tone, not unlike Jonas’s description of the roka:
“Two very different cultures and religious backgrounds, and
the beauty of it was, there was so much love and acceptance
for our side.” “Nick’s mother thinks she
was Indian in a past life,” Chopra adds.
“She rocks a sari.”
Chopra will wear a custom gown by
Ralph Lauren, very likely more than one.
Before this, Lauren has made wedding
dresses only for his daughter, his daugh-
ter-in-law, and his niece. But he personally
came to Chopra with sketches. Jonas will
dress like royalty, as is customary—turban,
sword—and he’ll ride in on a horse.
“Are you comfortable on a horse?” it
suddenly occurs to Chopra to ask.
“I am,” Jonas says. “I can’t wait.”
Jonas and Chopra will walk around a fire seven times,
once for each of the seven lifetimes they will spend together.
Truth be told, Jonas is already of the opinion that they’re
on their third lifetime together, possibly even their fourth.
Either way, he says, “I’ll take seven more.” 
LADY IN RED
When ABC cast her as the lead in Quantico, Chopra
told them, “I don’t want my ethnicity to lead the
part. I want to have a job. I want to have a plot. I
want to have a story.” Balenciaga dress.
FIELD OF DREAMS
Chopra visited Jonas in the music
studio on one of their early dates.
“To see him control every molecule
in that studio, I got physically
weak-kneed,” she says. On Chopra:
Alexander McQueen dress. In
this story: hair, Garren for R+Co.
Haircare; makeup, Pati Dubroff for
Marc Jacobs Beauty. For Jonas:
grooming, Marissa Machado for
Dior Beauty; barber, Ryan Stone.
Menswear Editor: Michael Philouze.
Details, see In This Issue.
PRO DUCE D BY CH ELS EA S ILL ARS FOR AL ST UD IO. SE T DES IG N, HA N S
MAH ARAWAL. SP ECIA L THANKS TO T HE 1896 A ND BAYONE T FARM
LOVE, LOVE
“I would love to have a
big family and probably
step away a little from
the spotlight,” says
Wozniacki, who wears
an Hermès jumpsuit
and Stella McCartney
sneakers. Lee wears
an Everlane T-shirt
and J Brand jeans.
Sittings Editor:
Phyllis Posnick.
Game
LOVE STORIES

On
L
She’s a world- ate one September evening, after the
commuters have emptied out of mid-
class tennis town Manhattan, a couple sits at the bar
champion. He’s a at The Grill, where the old Four Seasons
former NBA used to be. A cold rain has washed away
the summer, and the streets are dark and
All-Star. They got gleaming. Inside, the cavernous space is
engaged a year gold and dazzling. Tuxedoed waiters glide
ago—in Bora by, pushing trolleys. The man drinks a glass of red wine, a
nice Brunello. He and the woman smile as they talk, easy in
Bora, at sunset. each other’s company.
Louisa Thomas The woman wears a navy Chanel dress, with a neckline
meets Caroline that accentuates her shoulders. Her blonde hair is brushed
back from her face, and her blue eyes are clear as water. Twen-
Wozniacki and ty-eight years old, she sits erect, confident and composed.
David Lee, On her left hand, she wears an eye-catching engagement
sports’ most ring; on her right hand, a ring that matches one she bought
for her mother. The man is older, 35, and unusually tall; he
romantic couple. carries himself with an athlete’s casual grace. He has light
Photographed by brown hair and the suggestion of a beard, and he wears
Daniel Jackson. Tom Ford jeans and a dark Louis Vuitton shirt. A passerby
might recognize the woman as the tennis champion Caroline
Wozniacki and the man as the former NBA All-Star David
Lee, but no one pauses to stare, so perfectly are they suited
to their surroundings.
It is, as usual, a whirlwind trip through the city. They have
come up from Miami, where they own a condo and where
they retreated after Wozniacki lost in the second round of
the U.S. Open on a brutally hot and humid day two weeks
before. Next, they will travel to Tokyo for a tournament. They
live the better part of their lives out of suitcases, but they are
not ones to complain about the grind. Still, for Wozniacki in
particular, the demands are endless: sponsors, press, photo
shoots, not to mention tournaments and training. She has a
strong sense of who she is, what she likes, and what she wants.
“I want to be a good fiancée, a good daughter, a great tennis
player,” she says, her voice speeding up. But what she wants
 is not easy to achieve. “I can’t think too far ahead,” she says.
She focuses on the next year, the next month, or even the day
or hour. “At this point, I keep short goals.”
Still, they talk about their future, the way engaged couples
do—the way couples pick names for their unborn sons and
daughters, or build imaginary houses with pools and apple
orchards and plumbing that never breaks. “I would love to
have a big family and probably step away a little from the
spotlight,” Wozniacki says. Eventually she might want to do
something in fashion, drawing on her experience working
with Stella McCartney for Adidas, or do some charity work
or something involving animals. “Acting could be so fun,”
she said. “Push my limits a little bit.”
The two are settled into a plush banquette now, with a
view of the dining room. The table fills with plates of food:
tender filet mignon for her; bowls of butter dumplings and
sautéed spinach; a large steak for him, still sizzling with heat;
and hash browns, which Wozniacki has ordered and Lee
sneaks forkfuls of. They recount stories from the past year,
beginning with the moment in October when Lee decided
to retire after twelve seasons in the NBA (he played for five
teams—and won a championship with the Golden State
Warriors in 2015). “I really came to the conclusion that the
reason I’d keep playing was so that I could sit in this interview
and say I played fourteen years instead of twelve,” he says.
“Ego-wise, I’m not a Hall of Famer, so what stats am I trying
to pad, and for what reason?” He called Wozniacki and told
her that he was coming to Singapore, where she was set to
play in the WTA year-end championship. “I said, ‘Guess
what, babe, my schedule just opened up,’ ” he remembers
with a laugh. On the layover in New York, he picked up an
8.88-carat ring (can you guess Wozniacki’s favorite number?).
The hard part, it turned out, wasn’t popping the ques-
tion—it was asking permission from Caroline’s father, Piotr
Wozniacki, who taught her to play when she was a little
girl growing up in Denmark and has been her coach ever
since. In Singapore, after Wozniacki secured a place in the
semifinals, Lee and Piotr met for a drink. The two men had
become close, but Lee’s hands still shook with nerves. “We’d
had every conversation in the world,” Lee says, “but to take
it from ‘Wow, what a beautiful day outside,’ to ‘So!’ ” Piotr
was thrilled. When Caroline joined them, she asked what
was going on, and they told her they were celebrating her
trip to the semifinals. “I was like, ‘I guess you’re taking it up
a few notches! I like it!’ ”
Wozniacki won in Singapore, defeating Venus Williams
in the final, and then she and Lee headed to Bora Bora for
vacation. He organized a private dinner cruise, and they
watched the sun set over the South Pacific. “Isn’t this beau-
tiful?” Wozniacki remembers saying, and Lee grew so quiet
that she thought something was wrong. “One second,” he
said as he fumbled inside his backpack.
“It was good execution,” Lee says, self-deprecatingly, and
then turns serious. “Even if we had just had had a normal
dinner—it would have been one of the most beautiful things
we’d ever done.”
“It was like, we’re killing it right now,” Wozniacki cuts in.
“Tennis, life, everything!” Her voice is playful, but with an
undercurrent of genuine amazement. Who could disagree?
Two months after the proposal, she would play in the final
of the Australian Open against Simona Halep. Wozniacki
52
had never won a grand slam, and the winner would take the
number one ranking. It was one of the best matches of the
year, a dramatic three-set heavyweight bout—and Wozniacki
won. As she walked off the court, the crowd sang “Sweet
Caroline.” Lee was there to meet her in the locker room. It
W
was a fairy tale, a dream.
ozniacki’s dream as a
girl had been to become
number one. It hap-
pened for the first time
in Beijing in 2010, when
she was 20, after she
beat the Czech champi-
on Petra Kvitova. The
next day, she went onto the practice court with her father
to warm up for a quarterfinal match. “My dad said, ‘Move
your feet,’ ” she remembers. “And I’m like, ‘I’m number one
in the world and nothing has changed?’ And he said, ‘What
did you expect?’ ”
She couldn’t admit that the pressure was hard on her.
“You can never show vulnerability; you can never say, ‘I’m
not feeling good.’ ” So she swallowed it. The attention on her,
especially in Denmark, was relentless. “Every day, getting
questions: You’re number one, but you’ve never won a grand
slam. Do you think you deserve it?” What was she supposed
to say? What was she supposed to think? “I had moved up
through the rankings really quickly,” she says. “So I started
asking myself, Am I good enough? Is this luck?”
She held on to that number one, week after week, month
after month. But the criticism did not go away, and finally,
she relinquished the ranking after a string of injuries. She
fell out of the top ten and made little impact at slams. For
a time, she was better known for appearing in Sports Illus-
trated’s swimsuit edition than for her results on the court.
Her life was tabloid fodder. At the end of 2013, she became
engaged to the golfer Rory McIlroy, who then broke up with
her after the wedding invitations had been sent out. It was
a painful time.
But she turned it around—her tennis, her happiness, her
life. She met Lee at a dinner party in Miami thrown by a
mutual friend, and they stayed in touch. Eventually they
started dating. She became a fixture at his games, joining
the group cheers, giving high fives. (In her player’s box, on
the other hand, “it’s like a military operation,” Lee jokes. “I
don’t even check my phone.”)
He understood her determination, her logical way of
thinking through choices, her drive. He understood, too, the
strangeness of achieving your dreams—an NBA Champi-
onship—and still wanting something more. “I’d thought,
Once I get that big contract, all my problems will go away,”
he says. But of course, that’s not the way the world works.
At first, Lee imagined that he might have something to
say about her tennis, too (he’d grown up playing). “I really
thought I had something to offer strategy-wise,” he jokes.
They did play once, so that she could C O N T I N U E D O N P A G E 9 8
BRIDE TO BE
Wozniacki met Lee at a dinner party in Miami in 2015. Tom
Ford top and skirt. In this story: hair, Thom Priano for R+Co
haircare; makeup, Fara Homidi. Details, see In This Issue.
As she walked
off the court with
the Australian
Open trophy,
the crowd sang
“Sweet Caroline.”
Lee was there
to meet her in the
locker room.
It was a fairy tale,
a dream
OPEN CASTING
Gyllenhaal and
Sturridge take
on plays by
Nick Payne and
Simon Stephens,
respectively, at
New York’s Public
Theater. Grooming,
Kristan Serafino.
Sittings Editor:
Phyllis Posnick.

Tom Sturridge and Jake Gyllenhaal return to

the stage in Sea Wall/A Life, an incisive pair of
one-man shows that leave it all on the line.
By Adam Green. Photographed by Annie Leibovitz.

FRONT MEN
AT THEIR BEST, ONE-PERSON plays have
the intimacy and urgency of an encounter
with someone who needs to get something
off his or her chest, ideally portrayed by an ac-
tor who compels us to listen. Two such plays—
Simon Stephens’s Sea Wall and Nick Payne’s A
Life—open as a twin set next month at the Public
Theater. Under the direction of the smashing Carrie
Cracknell, each is a short monologue that, beneath
its spare surface, grapples with profound questions
about life, death, and identity. It doesn’t hurt, of
course, that the men telling us these stories are Tom
Sturridge and Jake Gyllenhaal, both returning to
the New York stage for the first time since their
2017 Broadway triumphs in, respectively, 1984 and
Sunday in the Park with George.
In A Life, Gyllenhaal plays a man struggling to
reconcile his emotions surrounding the death of his
father and the birth of his daughter. Originally titled
The Art of Dying, the piece started as a monologue
that Payne performed at London’s Donmar Ware-
house in 2013, in the aftermath of his own father’s
death. Gyllenhaal, who gave deeply felt performanc-
es in Payne’s earlier plays If There Is I Haven’t Found
It Yet and Constellations, spent the next four years
begging the playwright to let him perform it. By the
time he relented, Payne had become a father, and
he, Cracknell, and Gyllenhaal worked together to
bring A Life into its current form.
Gyllenhaal relishes the chance to perform some-
thing that feels so personal and vulnerable. “The
nature of being alone onstage, as much as it might
delight the 30 percent narcissist that I am, terrifies
the other percentage,” he says. “At its best, it’s not a
performance. There are no masks, no protection.”
Like Gyllenhaal, Sturridge feels a strong affinity
for the author of the monologue he’s perform-
ing—in this case, Stephens (Harper Regan; The
Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time),
in whose 2009 play Punk Rock he made his stage
debut. “I love Simon for his lyricism and for his
brutality,” Sturridge says, “and how the collision
of those rather disparate things oddly always seems
to spawn something entirely human.” In the beau-
tifully wrought and utterly devastating Sea Wall, a
photographer named Alex recounts a vacation in
France with his wife and young daughter, during
which he swims, argues about the existence of God
with his father-in-law, and, after a terrifying glimpse
of the abyss, has his life shattered in an instant.
A father with a young family of his own (he has a
six-year-old daughter with Sienna Miller), Sturridge
instantly identified with the narrator. His challenge,
as he sees it, is whether to protect himself inside a
character or expose himself. “If you ask me who
Alex is, the answer that I don’t want to give, because
I’m afraid of it, is ‘Me,’ ” he says. “At the same time,
I know that if I’m going to do this well, I have to
answer that question to an audience, and it’s going
to be about figuring out how to go, ‘Fuck it. This
is who I am.’ ” 
 Wearing modern pieces
steeped in seventies
nostalgia, KiKi Layne and
Stephan James—the young
leads of Barry Jenkins’s
LOVE STORIES
If Beale Street Could Talk—
find love in the cityscape
of Harlem. Photographed

Easy
by Tyler Mitchell.

Street
 LEAN ON ME
Somewhere along the
Harlem River, the couple,
clad in richly evocative
neutral tones with palpable
texture, find a moment
of reprieve. KiKi Layne
wears a Coach 1941 jacket,
$2,400; coach.com. A.P.C.
skirt, $220; apc-us.com.
Stephan James wears
a Coach 1941 jacket.
Uniqlo turtleneck. Polo
Ralph Lauren pants.
Fashion Editor:
Camilla Nickerson.
 BETTER TOGETHER
While her densely
patterned python-skin
dress nods to the wild,
his unstructured suede
coat is both perfectly
sensible and perfectly
stylish. On Layne:
Michael Kors Collection
trench dress; select
Michael Kors stores. On
James: Prada coat.
ON THE FRINGES
Layne, a Hollywood
newcomer, has a natural
glow about her. A flouncy
Chloé top ($3,440) and
skirt ($1,505; Chloé,
NYC) do their part to
help catch the light.
B
y the 1970s, James Baldwin was
done appealing to America’s
conscience. “I do not believe
in the promise of America,” he
told The New York Times. He
had seen his friends Martin Lu-
ther King and Malcolm X mur-
dered, had grown disillusioned
with the civil rights movement.
At the University of California,
Berkeley, in 1974, the author and critic reminded
black students not to expect “any help from most
of our co-citizens, or any help from the govern-
ment.” Their struggle was their own.
Still, Baldwin believed in the power of love, and
it was that power that animated his fifth novel and
thirteenth book, If Beale Street Could Talk, first
released in 1974 and now elegantly adapted for the
screen by Moonlight’s Barry Jenkins. The novel,
Baldwin said, was a tale of “survival and eventu-
al triumph” in black America, something like a
twentieth-century African American fairy tale. At
its center are two doting young lovers: Tish (played
by KiKi Layne in the film), a pregnant teenager
from Harlem, and her fiancé, Fonny (Stephan
James), jailed for a rape he did not commit.
“When I first read the book,” Jenkins says, “I
thought it was a commentary on the history of
black people in America—that it has always been
rooted in suffering and despair, and yet somehow,
we found the capacity for love and joy.” For Layne,
27, and James, 25, the work presents as profound
and precise a depiction of black love as they’ve
seen. “There’s so much tenderness and vulnera-
bility,” says Layne. James compares Baldwin to
Shakespeare: “They can both be brutally honest
and tragic at times,” he says, “but their descrip-
tions of love are so vivid.”
Layne, who is making her big-screen debut (a
day job at Bed Bath & Beyond is a not-so-distant
memory), was glad to experience that tenderness
on set, too. “It just seemed like this kind of proj-
ect—with Baldwin’s energy and Barry’s energy—
would only call in certain types of artists.” The
cast, which includes Regina King and Atlanta’s
Brian Tyree Henry, is family to her now, and the
affection is reciprocated. “I felt that KiKi was a
special actress right away,” says James, who pre-
viously appeared in Selma (as John Lewis) and
in the Jesse Owens biopic Race (as the sprinter).
“The chemistry was there” between the two ac-
tors, adds Jenkins, “and that was very important
because what really grabbed me about this story
was the idea of Tish and Fonny as soul mates.”
For her part, Layne—who will next lead Rashid
Johnson’s Native Son, another paean to urban
blackness—found James’s cool, quiet confidence
inspiring. “Whenever I questioned myself, I could
feed off his energy,” she says. “I thought, No, I’m
right where I’m supposed to be. There’s no point
in questioning that.”—MARLEY MARIUS

60
 CARRIED AWAY
True to fairy-tale form, Layne
is swept off her feet—in this
S HOT ON E KTAC HRO ME FILM

more modern incarnation,

though, she gets to wear a
graphic shearling coat and
color-blocked slingbacks.
On Layne: Louis Vuitton
coat; select Louis Vuitton
stores. Calvin Klein
205W39NYC shoes. On
James: Saint Laurent
by Anthony Vaccarello
jacket. Levi’s pants.
 OFF THE WALL
Free your mind, and
apparently an effortless-
seeming touch for
modern-vintage street
style will follow. On Layne:
3.1 Phillip Lim jacket,
$2,995; 31philliplim.com.
Ottolinger shirt ($650)
and skirt ($855); Opening
Ceremony, NYC. Hermès
bag. On James: John
Smedley shirt. Saint
Laurent by Anthony
Vaccarello pants.
FIT TO PRINT
Primly perched, our
heroine dons a look
that’s head-to-toe retro,
from the swishy sixties
silhouette to the seriously
seventies colorway.
Prada dress ($2,620),
tights, and shoes;
select Prada stores.
FANCY FOOTWORK
Layne and James—in coordinated
browns and soft, peachy yellows—
prove themselves as adept at
dipping and twirling as they are at
rest and repose. On Layne: Calvin
Klein 205W39NYC dress; Calvin
Klein, NYC. Scarf on head from
New York Vintage. On James:
David Hart suit and shirt. OPPOSITE,
FAR RIGHT: On Layne: Valentino
dress, $3,980; Valentino stores.
Tibi shoes. On James: Fendi shirt.
 PRINTED MATTER
When you have James’s
easy confidence—one of
the qualities that Layne
liked best about her
Beale Street costar—
pulling off this graphic
Pyer Moss shirt is easy.
 CREAM OF THE CROP
As dreamy midday sunlight
spills across her shoulders,
Layne—in a sumptuous Prada
leather jacket ($3,120) and
skirt ($1,200; select Prada
stores)—seems every bit in
her element. In this story: hair,
Jimmy Paul; makeup, Dick
Page; grooming for James,
Tara Lauren. Set design, David
White. Produced by Simon
Malivindi for One Thirty-Eight
Productions. Menswear
Editor: Michael Philouze.
Details, see In This Issue.
ARTWORK: © KAYE DONACHIE.
COURTESY MAUREEN PALEY, LONDON.
PRODUCED BY ROSCO PRODUCTION.
PHOTOGRAPHED AT THE ROYAL
ACADEMY OF ARTS. SPECIAL THANKS
TO LE MÉRIDIEN PICCADILLY.
 LOVE STORIES

Philip
Joseph
&
Erdem
Moralioglu
DESIGNER ERDEM MORALIOGLU
and architect Philip Joseph don’t agree
on the exact date they met while students
at London’s Royal College of Art. (“It was
definitely February 25, 2003,” says Joseph.
“I found my old calendar.”) But they’ve
set the date: They’re getting married late
this summer. What’s also certain: “Philip
and I were immediately inseparable,” says
Moralioglu. “A great relationship empow-
ers each of you to do your best. When I’m
with him, I feel I can do anything.” That
includes the ultimate trial by ordeal for any
couple: decorating together—not once
but twice. Joseph worked on the Erdem
store in Mayfair—“I sometimes worry I
am slightly oppressive in my aesthetic,” he
says with a laugh—and then there is their
home in the East End, which includes, at
Joseph’s urging, a beautiful if impractical
Japanese hinoki wooden bath. “Nothing
gives me greater pleasure than when he’s
thrilled,” Moralioglu says. “That sounds
like I’m indulging him, but I’m not. If I
can do something to make him happy,
I will. And we needed a bathtub. I just
didn’t know it needed to come from
Japan.” When it comes to their home’s
art, it’s Moralioglu, however, who does
the deciding; opposite is a study for a
larger painting of Moralioglu’s mother
by British artist Kaye Donachie. Also in
the frame here, so to speak, is their good
friend the actress Felicity Jones, who’s
playing Ruth Bader Ginsburg in On the
Basis of Sex.—MARK HOLGATE

PERFECT COMPOSITION
Joseph, FAR LEFT and Moralioglu, LEFT,
with Felicity Jones, wearing an Erdem
jacquard dress. Hair, Mari Ohashi; makeup,
Niamh Quinn. Details, see In This Issue.
Photographed by Paul Wetherell.
Fashion Editor: Lucinda Chambers.
LOVE STORIES

Carlo
Mirarchi
& success! But Carlo misses his family; he’s a little homesick.

Daniela “It’s totally different,” he confesses over northern Thai food

in Venice Beach. Just then his impossibly tall and elegant
girlfriend, the model Daniela Aciu, drifts in—she’s flown here

Aciu
from New York, where she lives. He vividly brightens, kisses
her, laughs delightedly at something she says. Daniela, 28, who
grew up in a small village in Transylvania (and has the accent
to prove it), is obsessed with natural wines, so there’s soon a
chilled bottle of gamay on the table. The first time she ate at
P RO DUC E D BY PRE ISS CR EATIV E

Blanca, Daniela says, her mind exploded. “It was everything I

CARLO MIRARCHI, 38, is every inch the New York chef—
born in Queens; educated at NYU; made famous in Bushwick,
Brooklyn, where he opened the pizza-centric Roberta’s in 2008
(and its more formal sibling Blanca in 2012). But recently he’s
been living in Los Angeles, a stone’s throw from Roberta’s
new outpost in Culver City. The space is packed, buzzing—a
was looking for in food. But he was not there.” So she invited
Carlo to a dinner at her Bushwick apartment. This was in
April. “Nobody invites me to dinner,” Carlo says. “It never
happens.” He arrived with bread, butter, and caviar in hand.
They’ve been together ever since. “He surprises me,” Daniela
says. “He’s the only one who can surprise me.”—TAYLOR ANTRIM

70
FIRE IT UP
Aciu in an Off-White c/o
Virgil Abloh T-shirt and
pants. Louis Vuitton
sneakers. Mirarchi in an
A.P.C. sweater and
Officine Générale jeans.
Photographed at Roberta’s
in Los Angeles. OPPOSITE
PAGE: On Aciu: Maison
Alaïa dress. In this story:
hair, Richard Collins;
makeup, Jo Strettell.
Details, see In This Issue.
Photographed by
Tierney Gearon. Fashion
Editor: Phyllis Posnick.
Walk
New York transplants Alex Poots,
founding artistic director of
The Shed, and his wife, Islamic
scholar Kathryn Spellman, are

This
lighting up the town with their
energy and cultural dynamism.
By Dodie Kazanjian.
Photographed by Stefan Ruiz.

Way O
n a sweltering afternoon in mid-Ju-
ly, I’m on West Thirtieth Street in
Manhattan, looking for the en-
trance to The Shed. Scheduled to
open this spring but still under con-
struction, The Shed is New York’s
keenly anticipated new year-round,
all-purpose cultural emporium for
music, dance, theater, and visual arts. There are no signs,
though—this is Hudson Yards, where one of the biggest
urban-renewal projects in New York City is in full swing, and
the landmark I’d been given, a pizza parlor, refuses to reveal
itself. But then, hooray, halfway down the block I see a blonde
woman waving both arms, and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s
Kathryn Spellman, a sociologist and visting professor for
Islamic Studies at Columbia University and the wife of
Alex Poots, The Shed’s founding artistic director and CEO.
“Alex is inside with the graphics team, talking about sign-
age and ‘way finding,’ ” Spellman says, laughing. She’s a vivid,
effervescent beauty in a colorful sleeveless Missoni shift and
sneakers without laces. We go in a side door, put on hard hats,
and walk up to the second level—a vast, 12,500-square-foot,
column-free gallery—moving gingerly to avoid electrical ca-
bles and other obstacles. At the far end, Poots is in conference
with the “way finders.” The 17,000-square-foot adjoining
hall (it’s called “The McCourt”) is usually exposed to the
skies when its outer layer is nested into the fixed building,
but at the moment, it’s covered by The Shed’s most distin-
guishing feature: a telescoping shell made of steel and a clear,
lightweight polymer that moves out (and back) on gigantic
rail tracks, turning it from an outside plaza to a large-scale
performance space for 3,000-plus people.
A compact, boyishly intense 51-year-old in a white dress
shirt and neat ink-blue jeans, Poots joins us. “He used to
always wear black,” Spellman says. “But then he noticed
that artistic directors all wore black, so he decided he’d only
wear blue.” Poots may not look like the most commanding
impresario of our time, but nobody else comes close to
matching what he’s already done in commissioning and pro-
ducing new, cutting-edge, mixed-media works for London’s
Tate Modern, the Manchester International Festival, and
the Park Avenue Armory in New York. Matthew Barney,
Tino Sehgal, Jessye Norman, Björk, Steve McQueen, Abida

POWER MOVES
Poots and Spellman (in Sies Marjan and Manolo Blahnik shoes)
at New York’s new cultural center, The Shed. Hair, Frédéric
Boudet; makeup, Maud Laceppe. Details, see In This Issue.
Fashion Editor: Michael Philouze.
“Instead of people
having their earphones
in all the time,
experiencing music in
isolation, Alex wants
it to be a communal
experience,” Kathryn says
Zaha Hadid, Marina Abramović, William Forsythe, Alice
Walker, Arvo Pärt, James Brown, Martha Argerich, Steve
Reich, Gerhard Richter, and Chen Shi-Zheng are just a few
of the prominent artists he’s worked with.
The Shed’s opening date is nearing, and the pressure to
complete the building and develop the season’s initial pro-
ductions is building up. “The other day someone said to me,
‘You’re trying to fly the plane while you’re building it,’ ” Poots
tells me. “It was kind of accurate. Because we’re commission-
ing all new works, we’re trying to do a few things—fifteen
to 20 a year—really well. We’re making work for the future,
rather than vessels for collections.”
Daniel L. Doctoroff, The Shed’s board chairman, tells me
by phone, “This may be one of the largest art start-ups of
all time, a $450 million–plus building with a new staff. We’re
programming it all ourselves and opening it all at once. I’m
not sure anyone’s ever done this before.” The city government
contributed $75 million, but most of the money has come
from private sources—Bloomberg Philanthropies, Shed
board member Frank H. McCourt Jr. and his family, and
many others. The Shed will help finance its operations by
renting out parts of its multipurpose event space, accom-
modating seated dinners for up to 450 people.
When Doctoroff and his high-powered board started
to look for an artistic director and CEO, one of the people
they went to for advice was Glenn D. Lowry, head of New
York’s Museum of Modern Art. Lowry told Doctoroff
and his high-wattage COO, Maryann Jordan, that what
they needed was a “truffle hunter” who could root around
for new ideas and talent; he also suggested that it be some-
body who had run an arts festival and could juggle a lot of
complex projects and personalities. Poots was a good fit on
both counts, and what Doctoroff describes as his “unique
combination of charm, patience, and persistence” persuaded
the board that he was the right man for the job.
A
s we make our way through The Shed’s
multiple spaces (designed by Diller
Scofidio + Renfro in collaboration
with Rockwell Group), Poots launches
into a description of Soundtrack of
America, one of the highlights of the
first season. “Steve McQueen phones
me up eighteen months ago and says,
‘I’ve got an idea for you.’ I’d been badgering him for two
years.” What McQueen came up with was a series of concerts,
“a family tree of African American music” ranging from its
earliest origins in the seventeenth century to present-day
74
hip-hop. Poots and McQueen put together a team of experts
that includes award-winning record producer Quincy Jones,
NYU music professor Maureen Mahon, producer Dion
“No I.D.” Wilson, and A&R exec Tunji Balogun. Referring
to African American music, McQueen says, “It’s about the
soil, it’s about America, it’s about the air that one breathes,
it’s about how influential that sound was around the world.
It’s touched everyone.”
It will all happen in The McCourt, with its movable shell,
which is located just where the High Line ends. (The bad news
is that it’s uncomfortably close to Thomas Heatherwick’s
$150 million Vessel, the “stairway to nowhere,” as it’s been
deemed by some, a cumbersome architectural folly that has
no connection to The Shed.) Some people will be seated in
The McCourt, while others will be standing. “It’s a whole
new format,” Poots says. “Sometimes we’ll use the set-up
of the art gallery for performances, where you’re not in a
fixed seat; and other times, we’ll use seating to heighten the
concentration of looking at art. The Shed is very interested
in how we can change the rules of engagement. The idea is
to help audiences expand their minds through the arts, but
to do it in a convivial way.”
After a somewhat exhausting tour, we go for dinner to a
Mediterranean/Middle Eastern restaurant called Taboon,
on Tenth Avenue. Poots is a Scot, and Spellman grew up in
Iowa. Their two children, eleven-year-old Lucy and seven-
year-old Thomas, are in Coney Island this evening with
their babysitter. “They love the really scary rides,” Poots
says, “the ones that terrify me.” Spellman checks in on them
by phone before we order. The kids are in a French day
camp—Poots’s mother is French, “so that’s the language
we’re starting them with,” she says. They all love New York,
where they and Milly, their Maltipoo, live on the top two
stories of a rented town house on the Upper West Side. “The
other day Thomas announced, ‘We have the best family in
the world, and all because of Milly,’ ” Spellman says. The
life of an impresario keeps Poots on airplanes more or less
constantly, scouting new talent, meeting with artists he’s
commissioned or hopes to work with, finding coproducers,
and raising money. Both Poots and Spellman are at ease
with people, and their sense of humor keeps them afloat.
At a big dinner party given by Diane von Furstenberg, a
Shed board member, Poots tells me, he recognized Fran
Lebowitz, whom he had never met. “I asked her, ‘May I
sit?’ ‘By all means,’ she said—and she immediately got up
and left. Kathryn couldn’t stop laughing.”
The family spent the rest of their summer visiting Poots’s
family in Edinburgh and Spellman’s in Iowa, where she
spent her mornings writing her contribution to Gender,
Governance and Islam, co-edited by Spellman, Nadje Al-
Ali, and Deniz Kandiyoti. (Spellman, who kept her tenured
position at Aga Khan University in London when she
moved to New York, is now developing a joint master’s
program at Columbia and Aga Khan, focusing on Islam
and modern societies.) Poots joined the three of them for
weekends, and then they headed to Bryce Canyon, in Utah,
which Spellman had loved as a child.
Poots met Spellman in London in 2005. She had come
there as a nineteen-year-old sophomore in 1991 for her
semester abroad. She fell in love with the city and stayed
for 25 years. Instead of becoming a lawyer, like her father
and five of her six siblings, she became a sociologist and
received her doctorate from the University of London in
2000. Poots was working for the English National Opera
back then, developing ideas for new productions. One was
an opera about Muammar al-Qaddafi, the Libyan dictator,
and Poots needed advice. Spellman, who had been to Libya
and met Qaddafi several times, heard about the opera from
colleagues. A meeting was arranged at the 2 Brydges Club
in London, where she waited 20 minutes before going up
to a pair of men and asking one of them if he knew Alex
Poots. The stranger gestured to his friend and said, “That’s
Poots!” He’d been there all along but had assumed that she
was much too young and beautiful to be a professor. A
year later, Poots enlisted her help on Queen and Country,
a project about British soldiers killed in the Iraq War that
Poots was working on with McQueen for the Manchester
International Festival, which he had recently founded. Mc-
Queen told both Spellman and Poots, separately, that they
belonged together. The pair reconnected at the Edinburgh
Festival. “At that point, I’m in overdrive,” Poots recalls.
“There was no stopping me.”
They were married in 2007, in the Scottish capital, and spent
their honeymoon at his parents’ country house, a picturesque
old mill two and a half hours away. Poots’s mother insisted
on driving them there from the city. “How else are you going
to know where everything is?” she asked Spellman. “To be
fair, she did leave,” Poots adds. Their first night, they went
for a walk and found a baby lamb stuck in deep mud. Poots
managed to pull it out, and then, concerned that there was
no sign of its mother, he stayed with it while Spellman went
home to take a bath. “It got dark, and I started to worry,” she
remembers. On his way back, he had come across a full-grown,
pregnant ewe with its legs kicking in the air, struggling to turn
over, and of course he’d felt obliged to help. “And this was
our wedding night!” Spellman says, laughing.
P
oots’s background is in music. His
father was an Irish dentist, and his
mother taught French literature at the
university level. (She was also a gifted
pianist.) Poots spent summers with his
French grandmother, in her ancestral
house in a forest near Bordeaux, where
she had hidden Jews and American
paratroopers during World War II. “She was a rebel and a
real inspiration,” he says. Poots started playing his father’s
cornet when he was five and went on to become a serious
student. He graduated from City, University of London
with a degree in music history and supported himself for
several years as a trumpeter. He was passionate about all
kinds of music. “There was no hierarchy for me,” he says.
“You can’t say a Schumann song is better than a Nina Sim-
one song.” After a few years, he gravitated toward concert
management and got jobs at the Barbican Centre and Tate
Modern. This led to his breakthrough appointment in 2005
as founding artistic director and CEO of the Manchester
International Festival, where he plugged into the Zeitgeist
by bringing music, dance, theater, visual arts, opera, and pop
culture together in a prolific mix. Poots “seemed to have his
finger on a new pulse,” said Sir Nicholas Serota, the former
director of the Tate.
“Because we’re
commissioning all new
works, we’re trying to do a
few things really well.
We’re making work for
the future, rather than
vessels for collections”
During dinner at the restaurant, we talk about what
Poots has planned for The Shed’s opening. In addition to
Soundtrack of America, there’s Dragon Spring Phoenix
Rise, a futuristic kung-fu musical about a Chinese sect
in Queens that has the power to prolong human life. It’s
directed by Chen Shi-Zheng—his Monkey: Journey to the
West was a big hit at Poots’s first Manchester Festival. The
words are by Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Berger, screenwrit-
ers of the wildly popular Kung Fu Panda animated films,
with songs by Sia, the Australian singer-songwriter, and
costumes by Tim Yip, of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.
This one will play in The McCourt. Norma Jeane Baker
of Troy, by the poet Anne Carson, will be in the 500-seat
theater on the sixth level. Based on Euripides’ Helen, it stars
Ben Whishaw and Renée Fleming. An exhibition in one
gallery, Reich Richter Pärt, explores resonances between
paintings (Gerhard Richter) and music (Steve Reich and
Arvo Pärt), while new work by the artist Trisha Donnelly
(who hasn’t had a solo show in New York in eleven years)
will be shown in another. Poots knows a lot less about the
visual arts than about music, and so he formed a close
relationship with Hans-Ulrich Obrist, the curator, art
historian, and all-round art-world insider. (He’s currently
artistic director of the Serpentine Galleries in London.)
It’s a full docket, but these are by no means the only things
that will be going on there. Other Shed programs taking
place inside and outside the building include the Lab, studio
space for ten to fifteen artists, and Open Call, which Poots
describes as “a multi-million-dollar investment in young,
early-career artists.” Nearly a thousand people from New
York’s five boroughs applied for Open Call. Each of the 52
lucky winners gets a one-year stipend (between $8,000 and
$15,000) to develop work that will be shown at The Shed.
“We produce, curate, and install the work,” Poots says, “and
the audience gets to see it for free.”
Two other programs run by The Shed are brewing through-
out the city. FlexNYC, which builds on Flexn, the home-
grown African American dance form whose participants use
their bodies to improvise personal stories, is already being
taught in 20 public schools and community centers. DIS
OBEY involves workshops for high school students to help
them explore creative action and protest about civil issues
(gun control, sexual harassment, et cetera) through poetry,
rap lyrics, and spoken word. The program came out of an
ongoing conversation between Poots and Spellman regarding
the worldwide drift toward tribalism and and objectification
of “the other.” “Is The Shed going to be silent about this,
or are we going to do something?” C O N T I N U E D O N P A G E 9 8
75
SPLENDOR IN
THE GRASS
In a garden that dates
back to 1746, mounds
of yew topiary and
rosebushes (there
are more than 250
floribunda varieties
on the property)
create an enchanting
allée. Beyond,
Château de la Bourlie.
Sittings Editor:
Hamish Bowles.
A Noble Pursuit
In southwest France, Cyril de Commarque and his wife, Ortensia
Visconti, turned an ancestral château into an artistic playground.
By Marella Caracciolo Chia. Photographed by Simon Upton.
E nsconced in the secluded re-
gion of Périgord Noir, Château de la Bourlie has the elusive
attraction of a chimera. Reaching it is an epic feat that of-
ten requires taking two airplanes, followed by a long drive
through a landscape of walnut groves and medieval towns.
But at the end of a driveway that stretches across the 1,000-
acre estate is a majestic vision. With its three wings, fortified
walls, and cone-shaped roofs reaching high against the rolling
hills, La Bourlie conjures an atmosphere of pre–French
Revolution splendor. Inside, however, a different story
unfolds.
Under the stewardship of artist Cyril de Commarque,
whose family has owned this estate for more than 800 years,
and his wife, the writer Ortensia Visconti, La Bourlie has un-
dergone a radical renovation. Though de Commarque took
78
over the property in 2010—“There was no choice; either we
made ends meet or we would have to sell,” he says—the rede-
sign of the château’s interiors began in earnest in 2015. “I was
bored by the fashion for nostalgic, minimalist interventions
to historic interiors,” he says. “I wanted something new.”
Two years passed before de Commarque had the financial
resources (and appropriate permissions from the histori-
cal-monument association) to embark on this adventure.
By then, the château’s interiors—damaged by colonies of
termites and a leaking roof, and scourged by pre–World War
I electric and plumbing systems—were in dire condition. The
first six months of the renovations were spent tearing down
the nineteenth-century partitions and stripping the structure
to its bones. “We wanted to find the original axis and create
a fluid atmosphere,” says de Commarque.
While all of this noisy deconstruction was going on, Vis-
conti retreated to a quiet rural building a short walk away in
order to concentrate on her new novel, Malalai. (Her agent
will be submitting the manuscript to publishers soon.) The
writer first met de Commarque at a friend’s house in Chianti
in 2008, when he was picking up his grandfather’s cello from
an Italian restorer. She was working as a war correspondent
and photographer back then, moving between Palestine,
Algeria, Afghanistan, and Iraq. “I was on the wild side and
had no intention of settling down,” she recalls, laughing. “He
quickly convinced me of the advantages of monogamy.”
Oro, their daughter, was born two years later.
When the foundations of the building had been reestab-
lished, Visconti reemerged. Her work on the interiors of
La Bourlie, de Commarque asserts, has been instrumental:
“She waltzed in after the construction was done and created
a narrative for every room.” Visconti named each bedroom
after a celestial body and chose most of the furniture, includ-
ing seventeenth- and eighteenth-century heirlooms from
her family—a branch of the Visconti of Milan, the dynasty
that ruled the region from 1277 to 1447. (Film director
Luchino Visconti was her great-uncle.) “Ortensia needs
excess,” says Marina de Lagarda, the acclaimed muralist,
who was called in to help with the château. In one of the
smaller living rooms, Visconti wanted an acid green–and–
gold leaf scheme to complement the reds in a chinoiserie
collection. For the master bedroom, she envisioned a hue
like the eye of a peacock feather—attained through an
uneven layering of blues and greens.
For the main living room, de Commarque installed
carved wood trees and set them against darkened panels
of glass. The sculpture “is a personal memento mori,
a symbol of ephemeral vanities,” says de Commarque,
who asked de Lagarda to limewash his trees to give them
a ghostly appearance. The old-world atmosphere of the
dining room has been turned on its head, with panels of
recycled multicolored plastic hung above the richly carved
late–nineteenth century boiserie.
De Commarque has been adamant that only sustain-
able materials be used in the renovation of La Bourlie, and
more broadly, he sees his work as a means to advance and
better society. In September 2016, he famously mounted a
polyhedron-shaped sculpture atop a barge that he captained

TREE OF LIFE
OPPOSITE, TOP: De
Commarque, Visconti
(in BY. Bonnie Young),
and their daughter,
Oro, bound through
the gardens. ABOVE:
Inside the main living
room, a custom
neon light fixture and
blanched-wood trees,
set against mirrors,
evoke an endless
forest. LEFT: Southeast
of the property,
horses Alaman, Elios,
and Akbar graze.

79
FEELING BLUE
OPPOSITE: In Oro’s bedroom, a Russian doll keeps watch
below an oceanic photograph by de Commarque. ABOVE:
Oro’s Spanish springer spaniel Marameo stands guard as
she dives in. LEFT: Inside a bedroom, which dates back to the
14th century, a 1901 painting by Galileo Chini. In this story:
hair and makeup, Lizbeth. Details, see In This Issue.

from Holland to London; when Fluxland, as the work was

called, arrived in the Thames, he hosted a series of talks up
and down the river about progress, politics, and utopia. In
fact, La Bourlie has provided somewhat unlikely inspiration
for de Commarque’s artistic and political projects. One work,
for example, alludes to the role the château played in World
War II as a hidden refuge for Jewish families. (In 1943, Cyril’s
grandfather was captured by the Gestapo and sent to Buchen-
wald, where he died the next year.) “My identity as an artist is
engrained in the history of La Bourlie,” de Commarque says.
This year, a military tank that he has transformed into a
fossil-like sculpture—an allegory of Pompeii—will travel
from London to several capitals in Europe, ending its jour-
ney at La Bourlie in 2020. The coming year will also see an
inaugural festival at the château focused on issues close to de
Commarque’s and Visconti’s hearts: forced migration and the
decimation of the environment. “One day,” de Commarque
concludes, “I will put up a flag and declare La Bourlie my
own republic. Not a principality, not an aristocracy, because
I don’t believe in that, but my own republic!” 

81
Fuzzy
Logic
Once considered a beauty taboo,
patchy underarms and furry legs
are finding favor with a new
generation of women. Maya Singer
reports on the hairy situation.
I WAS ELEVEN WHEN I began to notice the swimmers—teen-
agers on the team at my local pool. They had a ritual before
big meets: The girls would grow out their body hair, and then,
the night before all-county or state championships, they’d
gather with the boys in one locker room and shave one another
clean. The idea was that they’d race faster once the hair was
all stripped off. I understood that logic, but what struck me
with the most force was the thrill of the ambiguity. One day,
you’d glimpse a strong, furry thigh poking out beneath a towel
and not know whom it belonged to; then, post-meet, you’d
find yourself startled by the gamine smoothness of the boys’
skin, their muscular chests gleaming like polished marble.
I’ve been thinking about the swimmers a lot lately. Down
that peeks out from underarms and covers legs seems to
be going mainstream. Gender fluidity, and its embrace by
the many designers now blurring lines between menswear
and womenswear—and swapping clothes between male
and female models on their runways—has certainly been a
catalyst for the new hirsuteness. In September at the Maison
Margiela show in Paris, for example, designer John Galliano
made it nearly impossible to tell whether the snake-hipped
models wearing his spring collection were boys or girls.
You’d see a slim, shaggy calf emerge from a pair of iridescent
Mary Janes, and assume boy. And then you’d question that
assumption, because millennial women don’t seem all that
fussed about body hair.
“I stopped shaving completely about five years ago,”
says 28-year-old artist and model Alexandra Marzella,
who walks for Eckhaus Latta and poses for Calvin Klein
campaigns when she’s not posting au naturel selfies on her
Instagram account. “Now I shave occasionally,” she says,
“if I feel like it”—a laissez-faire attitude that is resonating
with young stars such as Paris Jackson, Amandla Stenberg,
and Lourdes Leon. Taking cues from her famous mother,
Madonna, who has long declined to shave, Leon arrived at
the CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund awards in a sleeveless white
Luar minidress that revealed her own razor rejection. Cheers
from the online throngs ensued.
This kind of back-and-forth relationship with body hair is
new. When Harriet Lyons and Rebecca Rosenblatt published
their 1972 manifesto “Body Hair: The Last Frontier” in the
inaugural stand-alone issue of Ms. magazine, they introduced
an anti-shaving stance that brooked no compromise. Either
you were a shaggy feminist or you were a pawn of the patri-
archy, goaded by the pink plastic shaving-industrial complex
into spending your money and your time maintaining a key
feminine ideal—an ideal of relatively recent vintage. Shaving
one’s legs just wasn’t a thing when women wore skirts that
swept the floor. It required the broad commercialization of
the easy-to-use safety razor, circa World War I—followed by
the introduction of King Camp Gillette’s Milady Décolleté
razor, a gold-tone tool that came packaged in an imitation
ivory box with colored velvet and satin lining—to begin to
make it so. According to Rebecca Herzig, the gender and
sexuality studies chair at Bates College, in Maine, hairlessness
wasn’t firmly established as a beauty standard until after
World War II, in that Leave It to Beaver era when American
society found it useful to re-entrench gender distinction as
soldiers returned home to start families, and to take back
the jobs women had held in their stead. “By 1964,” Herzig
writes in Plucked: A History of Hair Removal, “surveys in-
dicated that 98 percent of all American women aged fifteen
to forty-four were routinely shaving their legs.”
If Lyons and Rosenblatt’s second wave–feminist backlash
against the ritual was a direct reaction to the heightened
femininity demanded of women in the postwar era, today’s
embrace of body hair is a revolt against the Brazilian-wax
tyranny of the aughts. Now there are about a zillion pro–
female fuzz memes circulating on Tumblr, and the question
implied in all of them seems to be: Why, exactly, are women
supposed to be perpetually smooth and stubble-free?
Even among the newly launched women’s shaving-
supply brands—the buzziest is Flamingo, from the popular
men’s-grooming line Harry’s, which features top-quality,
well-priced razors, body products, and wax kits—there’s a
© 2018 SUCCESS ION H . MATISSE /ARTISTS RIG HTS SOC IE TY ( ARS ) , N EW YORK .
“take it or leave it” attitude, a somewhat extraordinary stance
when you consider that these companies are trying to per-
suade you to buy. “Our message is, if you want to shave, then
shave”—or don’t, explains Georgina Gooley, cofounder of the
direct-to-consumer razor start-up Billie, who homed in on the
Tumblr memes and the huzzahs attending young, unshaven
stars’ Instagram posts prior to debuting the brand in Novem-
ber 2017. “These women didn’t like that advertising reinforced
the taboo, pushing them into this corner where they felt like
they had to be perfectly hairless at all times,” Gooley contin-
ues. “Whatever they want to do with their body, it’s OK.”
Some women, meanwhile, may not identify as women at
all now. Or at least not all the time. Arianna Gil, cofound-
er of the New York City–based C O N T I N U E D O N P A G E 9 9
SOFT FOCUS
Is body hair back? Henri Matisse’s Odalisque Seated
with Arms Raised, Green Striped Chair, 1923.
 This season’s
runways were all
about easy pieces
and the bold gesture:
a roomy top layer
with colorful
accents, calf-grazing
skirts that move like
a dream—and the
attitude to make
them all your own.
Photographed by
Josh Olins.

Practical
84
Magic
BRIGHT LIGHTS
Model Adut Akech embraces both
form and function by cozying up to
the classic turtleneck, the jersey
pleated skirt—and razor-sharp
boots. Marni sweater ($1,150) and
belt; Marni stores. Sportmax skirt,
$845; Max Mara, NYC. Noel Stewart
hat. Victoria Beckham bag. Versace
boots. OPPOSITE: Mackintosh
jacket, $1,465; Mackintosh, NYC.
Grey State turtleneck, $98;
greystateapparel.com. Marni
skirt, $1,250; Marni stores.
Fashion Editor: Lucinda Chambers.
PRETTY IN PLEATS
Keep a high-slit skirt
firmly grounded with
leggings—and a perfectly
boxy Louis Vuitton
bomber jacket (select
Louis Vuitton stores)
worth smiling about.
Sacai skirt, $1,550;
Dover Street Market Los
Angeles, L.A. Elaine Kim
leggings, $295; Elaine
Kim, L.A. Versace boots.

86
 HOT BUTTON ISSUE
File this under “almost
too easy”: a modular-
seeming sweater that
appears to do the work
of three separate pieces.
Color-blocked Rosetta
Getty sweater, $2,130,
Neiman Marcus stores.
Brunello Cucinelli skirt,
$1,895; Brunello Cucinelli,
NYC. Della George scarf.
WALK THE LINE
A fluttering handkerchief
hem, a cutout back, and
a chunky boot anchor
this study in confident
contrasts. Victoria
Beckham top ($1,270)
and skirt ($1,430);
victoriabeckham.com.
Sportmax leggings,
$325; Max Mara,
Chicago, IL. Vicki Sarge
earring. AGL boots.

88
 STATEMENT SHADE
Outfitting a truly
independent spirit has never
been so simple—just mix a
bright-red Eudon Choi
shirt ($375, eudonchoi
.com), an arctic-white
Givenchy jumpsuit ($2,435,
Givenchy, NYC), and one
of Noel Stewart’s fetching
hats in bright cobalt blue.
BEAUTY NOTE
Add a little luxe to your lids
with a shimmering pastel
shadow. Laura Mercier
Caviar Stick Eye Colour
in Orchid delivers a wash
of lilac pigment with a
pearlescent finish.
 FULL SWING
An azure blazer—when
worn atop a primly
pleated two-tone
skirt—is polite with
a punch. Calvin
Klein 205W39NYC
blazer ($1,800),
turtleneck ($290),
and skirt ($1,400);
Calvin Klein, NYC.
PUT A BOW ON IT
What happens when
oversize neutral staples
brush up against juicy
color? An exceedingly
charming take on
utilitywear. Salvatore
Ferragamo jacket
($1,090) and pants
($530); Salvatore
Ferragamo stores.

91
HEAVY WEATHER
Pair your technical
pullover with a playful
going-out dress,
and your daytime
uniform is instantly
transformed. JW
Anderson jacket,
$1,040; The
Webster stores.
Emilia Wickstead
dress, $1,365;
emiliawickstead.com.
 HOP, SKIP,
AND A JUMP
The girl on the go would
do well to consider a
crisp and bold Prada
polo shirt ($920;
select Prada stores),
kicky Fendi skirt
($1,690, fendi.com),
and proper Hermès
handbag for her next
jaunt about town. The
Upside leggings, $109;
theupsidesport.com.
Preen by Thornton
Bregazzi boots.
 IT’S A CINCH
How to take a cargo
shirtdress from sturdy
to street chic? Add two
waist-defining zippers.
Versace shirtdress,
$1,850, select Versace
stores. Tory Sport
track pants, $178;
torysport.com. Vicki
Sarge earrings.
 CARRY THE DAY
Hitting your very best
angles is a snap in
brilliant straight-leg
trousers, a maximalist
windbreaker, and a
bag with enough extra
to bring it all together.
Stella McCartney jacket,
$2,295; Stella McCartney,
Las Vegas. Hermès pants,
$1,775; select Hermès
stores. Colville bag. In this
story: hair, Cim Mahony;
makeup, Sally Branka.
Details, see In This Issue.
Index
1

16

14

LIF ES: COURTESY OF B RAN DS/WE BSI TES.

C RAIG MCDE AN, VO GUE, 2017. ST IL L

13
DETAILS, S EE IN TH IS ISSU E .

From sporty pants to scarf-tie loafers,

layer up with pieces neither his nor
hers—they’re ours.
12
96 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM
 5

11

1. GUCCI BASEBALL CAP, $530; GUCCI.COM.

2. ETRO PANTS, $295; MATCHESFASHION
.COM. 3. ANDERSON’S BELT, $160; ANDERSON
.IT. 4. VIA SPIGA SNEAKER, $195; VIASPIGA.COM.
5. LORO PIANA HOODED SWEATER; LOROPIANA
.COM. 6. SALVATORE FERRAGAMO BELT BAG,
$775; SELECT SALVATORE FERRAGAMO STORES.
7. CHANEL BOY DE CHANEL FOUNDATION, $65;
CHANEL.COM. 8. HERMÈS CASHMERE SCARF,
$1,075; SELECT HERMÈS STORES. 9. TORY
SPORT TRACK PANTS, $135; TORYSPORT.COM.
10. WARBY PARKER EYEGLASSES FRAMES,
FROM $95; WARBYPARKER.COM. 11. MAJE COAT,
$720; MAJE, NYC. 12. BALLY BACKPACK, $1,295;
BALLY.COM. 13. NOTO BOTANICS AGENDER
9 OIL, $39.50; NOTOBOTANICS.COM. 14. MAISON
MARGIELA LOAFER, $1,090; MAISONMARGIELA
.COM. 15. FOUNDRAE RING; FOUNDRAE.COM.
16. GOLDEN GOOSE DELUXE BRAND TRENCH
COAT; GOLDENGOOSEDELUXEBRAND.COM.

10

8
 GAME ON
CONTINUED FROM PAGE 52
put him in his place. These days, he
contents himself with lessons and
knows that he is simply there to be
loyal and supportive—come to ev-
ery match he can, catch the ones he
can’t online. Off the court, though,
she has learned from him: learned to
step back, not to hold so tightly to
her expectations, to let things happen
as they come. When she was injured,
especially, he reminded her that she
shouldn’t punish herself. She was al-
lowed to be proud of what she had
accomplished.
It’s getting late. The tables are turn-
ing over at The Grill. They tell sto-
ries about each other as the buzz of
the post-dinner crowd grows a little
louder. There was, for instance, the
time that Lee—making an effort
to take more of an interest in fash-
ion—bought an $800 T-shirt, which
Wozniacki unknowingly threw in the
wash. “He was like, ‘We can never
wash it! It won’t fit!’ I thought it was
funny. I think he thought it was a lit-
tle less funny than I did,” she says.
They talk about his learning Polish,
Wozniacki’s native language, to be-
come closer to her family.
They talk about the wedding.
They imagine moving to be closer to
Wozniacki’s family in Europe. They
talk about how simple their lives are,
in some sense, despite all the parts
and people moving around them—
how they like to go to the movies, or
stay at home and watch TV, or work
out in the morning and grab break-
fast together at a diner.
As the dinner crowd leaves, the
tone of the room changes. There are
hints of uncertainty. For months,
Wozniacki has been feeling drained
and achy. The morning after a match
in Montreal, she woke to find that
she couldn’t raise her arms to comb
her hair or brush her teeth. Her
knees were hurting, her hands swol-
len. “The doctors said, ‘You’re fine,’ ”
she later tells me. “I said to myself, I
know I’m not fine.” Finally, a series
of blood tests taken around the time
of the U.S. Open confirmed rheu-
matoid arthritis. It will take a few
months before she feels comfortable
announcing it publicly. “For me it
was important to know that I can
handle this, I can still be a great ath-
lete,” she says. It had been a shock.
“You think you’re the healthiest and
the strongest, and you don’t think
something like this can hit you,”
she says. “It doesn’t discriminate.
It doesn’t matter whether you’re
young, old, healthy, or not.” Still,
she is young, healthy, and strong. She
is determined to look forward, and
think positively.
And so is he. There is so much
to look forward to, after all—after
basketball, after tennis, when the
spotlight is off, when the only peo-
ple watching them are each other.
“Whether that’s fifteen minutes from
now, or fifteen years from now, what-
ever she decides—all I’ve told her
is, ‘I’m supporting you,’ ” Lee says.
“It’s just a matter of doing it on your
terms.” 
WALK THIS WAY
CONTINUED FROM PAGE 75
Poots asked her one night. “Kathryn
told me a poignant story about Saa-
di, a thirteenth-century Persian poet
who wrote Sufi poems of defiance

request; also at Solange NYC. On Lee: T-shirt, $16; On James: Shirt, $210;

In This Issue Azagury Partridge, NYC.

HEAD OVER HEELS

TOC: 8: On Leo: Adidas
training pants, $40; adidas
.com. Eastpak backpack,
$60; nordstrom.com. On
Mae: Uniqlo jacket; uniqlo
.com. Adidas Originals
Kids track jacket ($50)
and track pants ($45);
adidas.com. Eastpak
backpack, $60: eastpak
.com. Vans slip-on
sneakers, $35; vans.com.
On Ali: Erdem jacket
($2,230) and camisole;
erdem.com. Gucci pants,
$1,700; gucci.com.
Prada bag, price upon
request; select Prada
stores. Manolo Blahnik for
Carolina Herrera pumps,
price upon request; (212)
582-3007. On Cass:
Thom Browne sport
coat ($1,980) and skirt
($920); thombrowne
.com. L’Agence T-shirt,
$95; lagencefashion.com.
Balenciaga bag, $1,250;
Balenciaga, NYC. Socks
by Ozone Socks, $30;
ozonesocks.com. Sies
Marjan oxfords, $795;
similar styles at siesmarjan
.com. Tailor, Christy Rilling
Studio. Cover look: 8:
Dress, $8,150; select Tom
Ford stores. Manicure,
Megumi Yamamoto.
Tailor, Christy Rilling
Studio. Editor’s letter:
14: On Chopra: Sézane
cardigan, $120; sezane
.com. On Jonas: Officine
Générale shirt, $282;
officinegenerale.com. ATM
Anthony Thomas Melillo
T-shirt, $58; atmcollection
.com. Manicure, Megumi
Yamamoto. Tailor, Christy
Rilling Studio. On James:
Telfar shirt, $775; shop
.telfar.net. On Layne:
Pyer Moss shirt, $150;
pyermoss.com. Scarf
on head from New York
Vintage, $75; New York
Vintage, NYC. Manicure,
Yuko Tsuchihashi. V Life:
22: Dress, $1,255;
isabelmarant.com. 26–27:
Jacqueline Rabun bangle
(price upon request) and
ring ($3,341). Solange
earrings, price upon
40–41: Silk dress
($10,200), Lycra top
($690), and Lycra shorts
($550); fendi.com. On
Jonas: Shirt, $282;
officinegenerale.com.
T-shirt, $58; atmcollection
.com. Gap pants, $60;
gap.com. The Frye
Company boots, $358;
thefryecompany.com.
43: Lamé dress, $5,990;
Oscar de la Renta stores.
Pumps, $1,490; tomford
.com. 45: On Chopra:
Dress, $3,280; amarees
.com. Earring, $2,100 for
pair; meandrojewelry.com.
On Jonas: Shirt, $175;
mrporter.com. 47: Satin
dress, $7,900; Balenciaga,
Beverly Hills. 48–49: On
Chopra: Denim dress,
$5,560; Alexander
McQueen, NYC. In this
story: Manicure, Megumi
Yamamoto. Tailor, Christy
Rilling Studio.
GAME ON
50–51: On Wozniacki:
Jumpsuit, $3,700; select
Hermès stores. Sneakers,
$685; Stella McCartney,
everlane.com. Jeans,
$178; jbrandjeans.com.
53: Top ($790) and skirt
($2,150); tomford.com. In
this story: Tailor, Christy
Rilling Studio.
EASY STREET
56–57: On James:
Jacket, $1,200; Coach,
NYC. Turtleneck sweater,
$40; uniqlo.com. Pants,
$99; select Ralph Lauren
stores. 58: On Layne:
Dress, $16,000. On
James: Coat, $4,530;
select Prada stores.
Phlemuns Nonbasics
shirt, $80; phlemuns
.com. 60–61: On Layne:
Coat, price upon request;
select Louis Vuitton
stores. Shoes, $790;
Calvin Klein, NYC. Scarf
on head from New York
Vintage, $75; New York
Vintage, NYC. On James:
Jacket, $4,250; Saint
Laurent, NYC. Pants,
$60; levi.com. 62: On
Layne: Prada turtleneck,
price upon request;
select Prada stores.
Scarf on head from New
York Vintage, $55; New
York Vintage, NYC. Bag,
$8,850; Hermès stores.
johnsmedley.com. Pants,
$750; Saint Laurent, NYC.
Gucci shoes, $890; gucci
.com. 63: Tights ($1,350)
and shoes (price upon
request). 64–65: On
Layne: Dress, $11,500.
Scarf, $55; New York
Vintage, NYC. On James:
Suit ($2,195) and shirt
($325); davidhartnyc
.com. Gucci shoes, $890;
gucci.com. Far right: On
Layne: Shoes, $425;
tibi.com. On James:
Shirt, $690; fendi.com.
David Hart pants, $495;
davidhartnyc.com.
Gucci shoes, $890;
gucci.com. 67: Shirt,
$600; pyermoss.com.
David Hart pants, $495;
davidhartnyc.com. In
this story: Manicure,
Yuko Tsuchihashi.
PHILIP JOSEPH &
ERDEM MORALIOGLU
68–69: On Joseph:
Paul Smith sweater,
$495; paulsmith.com.
AMI Alexandre Mattiussi
pants; amiparis.com.
Falke socks, $27; Saks
Fifth Avenue stores.
Grenson shoes, $315;
nordstrom.com. On

98 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM

 against oppressors. These poems are an antidote to the boundless loneli- FUZZY LOGIC
unearthed by Henry David Thoreau ness of the internet and the inertia CONTINUED FROM PAGE 82
500 years later and inspire him to write of on-demand streaming. “This is skate-and-streetwear crew Brujas,
Civil Disobedience, which massively what I worry about,” Spellman adds. explains that she waxes her legs four
influences Gandhi, Mandela, Martin “People are withdrawing, becoming times a year, so she can “enjoy a
Luther King Jr., and the civil rights increasingly more introverted within spectrum of presentation” that corre-
movement. So a thirteenth-century their small bubbles. We have to pop sponds to her fluidity. Bare skin reads
Persian poet changes American pol- those bubbles. It’s so important for as feminine, she notes; “patchy” is in-
itics in the 1960s. It shows these kids us to meet each other, talk with each offensively ambiguous. And when her
the power of art to affect the future.” other, feel each other. That’s what hair is fully grown out, she reports,
The ratio between hits and misses really breaks down barriers.” It costs her appearance triggers the gender
in this wide diversity of programming nothing to enter The Shed’s spacious confusion and anxiety that Galliano
is impossible to predict—there are no and welcoming lobby, Poots points celebrated at the Margiela show, and
out-of-town test runs, and New York out: “We’re encouraging people to that had thrilled me as a child observ-
is a much tougher venue than Man- come in and hang out.” ing swimmers at the pool.
chester. But Poots has an amazing- We’ve finished dinner at Taboon, “I’ll shave if I want to” isn’t quite
ly good track record, and one of his and Poots has just realized they’re late the battle cry issued by the feminists
great strengths is that he is never afraid for the Radiohead concert at Madi- of yore, Herzig notes. But it is a shift,
of failure. “I’m a risk-taker,” he says. son Square Garden. “I only found out one befitting a generation of wom-
“Each year we’re going to fail. This this morning that we’re going,” Spell- en who dislike absolutes, whether the
thing is not going to happen in one man says. She calls the children again. definition of “appropriate” female
year. But each year we’re going to bust “They’re alive and they’re home,” she behavior is coming from sisters-in-
our gut trying to do better.” reports. Poots gets on the phone and arms or from corporations attempting
The Shed is also dedicated to says, “Good night, gorgeous kids.” Out to sell them their freedom back. “One
bringing audiences together in new on Tenth Avenue, they look excited way to characterize what we’re see-
ways. “Instead of people having their and radiant. “When Alex and I met,” ing,” continues Herzig, “may be that
earphones in all the time, experienc- Spellman says, “it was the first time in women are now encouraged to ask—
ing music in isolation, Alex wants it my life I was with someone who walked and increasingly expect—brands to
to be a communal experience,” Spell- at the same speed I do—quite fast. He fulfill their needs.” To shave, or not to
man says. The Shed can be seen as felt it, too. It makes life easier.”  shave? It’s up to you. 

Jones: Dress, $6,640; rings, $950–$1,500; WALK THIS WAY 85: Belt, $650. Givenchy select Hermès stores.
erdem.com. On davidyurman.com. 72–73: On Poots: leggings $450; Givenchy, Boots; similar styles at
Moralioglu: Margaret Pandora Jewelry rings, Prada sweater, $980; NYC. Hat, $450; preenbythorntonbregazzi
Howell sweater, $415; $45–$400; pandora select Prada stores. noelstewart.com. Bag, .com. 94: Earrings, $586;
margarethowell.co.uk. .net. Roberto Coin ring, Church’s shoes, $885; $2,100; victoriabeckham vickisarge.com. 95:
Paul Smith T-shirt, $150; $700; robertocoin.com. church-footwear.com. .com. Boots, $3,095; Grey State turtleneck,
paulsmith.com. Prada On Mirarchi: Sandro On Spellman: Blazer select Versace stores. $98; greystateapparel
pants, price upon request; bomber jacket, $575; ($1,295) and aproned 86: Jacket, $5,200. .com. Bag, $1,130;
THAN THE AUTHORIZED STORE, THE BUYER TAKES A RISK AND SHOULD USE CAUTION WHEN DOING SO.

select Prada stores. sandro-paris.com. pants ($895); siesmarjan Noel Stewart hat, $450; matchesfashion.com.
MEN TION ED IN ITS PAGES, W E CANNOT GUARANTE E THE AU THE N TICI TY O F ME RC HAN DIS E SO LD

Stan Smith by Adidas Calvin Klein Underwear .com. Pumps, $625; noelstewart.com. Scarf In this story: Manicure,
BY DISCOUN TE RS. AS IS ALWAYS THE CASE IN PU RC HAS IN G AN IT EM FRO M AN YW H E RE OTHE R

Originals sneakers, $75; T-shirt, $40 for three; Manolo Blahnik, NYC. by Della George. Boots, Eri Handa. Tailor, Christy
A WORD ABOUT DISCOUNTERS W HILE VO GU E TH OROUG HLY RESE ARC HES T H E CO MPANI ES

adidas.com. In this story: calvinklein.com. 71: On In this story: Tailor, $3,095; select Versace Rilling Studio.
Manicure, Adam Slee. Aciu: T-shirt ($396) and Lucy Payne. stores. 88: Earrings,
pants ($3,014). T-shirt at $586 for pair; vickisarge INDEX
CARLO MIRARCHI & ssense.com. Pants at net- A NOBLE PURSUIT .com. Boots, $428; agl 96–97: 5. Hooded
DANIELA ACIU a-porter.com. Sneaker 78: On Visconti: Blazer .com. 89: Hat, $450; sweater, $2,900. 15. Ring,
70: Dress, $5,330; boots, $895; select Louis ($2,486) and dress noelstewart.com. 91: $2,630. 16. Trench
Neiman Marcus stores. Vuitton stores. Knobbly ($1,334); bonnieyoung Noel Stewart hat, $450; coat, $2,035.
Foundrae necklace, x Laurie Franck earring, .com. 80: On Oro: Wild & noelstewart.com. Scarf
$2,850; foundrae $85; knobblystudio.com. Gorgeous playsuit, $142; by Della George. Marni LAST LOOK
.com. Monica Rich On Mirarchi: Sweater, wildandgorgeous.co.uk. belt, $650; select Marni 100: Shoulder bag; gucci
Kosann necklace $235; usonline stores. 92: Noel Stewart .com.
with rings, $2,550; .apc.fr. Jeans, $275; EASY PIECES hat, $450; noelstewart
monicarichkosann officinegenerale.com. In 84: Elaine Kim leggings, .com. 93: Scarf by Della ALL PRICES
.com. David Yurman this story: Tailor, Tee. $295; Elaine Kim, NYC. George. Bag, $5,950; APPROXIMATE

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99
Last Look

FAS HION E DITO R, CAMIL LA N IC KE RSON . SE T D ESI GN , N IC H OL AS DES JARDINS. D E TAILS, SE E IN TH I S I SSU E

Gucci bag, $1,118

As maximalism takes over interior design, a similar more-is-more aesthetic is spilling out and bursting
onto the runways. Exhibit A: This braided-cord-strap bag—a weave of viscose velvet that resembles a
Persian rug—also looks as though you could stuff a pillow into it. The twin tassels, meanwhile, would work
marvelously as drapery tiebacks in a deluxe window treatment. Only Gucci’s Alessandro Michele, though,
would put it all together in the form of a shoulder bag. Think of it as wearable decor.
P H OTO G RA P H E D BY B I B I CO R N E J O B O RT H W I C K

100 JANUARY 2019 VOGUE.COM

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