Suvorova writes about how she distanced herself from her mother (and later wrestled with their estrangement) after she realized the truth about her mother's profession at 17. Before the highly anticipated book hits shelves on September 29, the author has shared an exclusive excerpt with Marie Claire in which she recalls the moment she realized her mother was a mail-order bride and confronted her about it.

Eleventh Grade, 17 Years Old

It’s Houston humid and my skin is boiling off my bones. I hate being outside right now—it feels like you’re stuck in someone’s mouth and they’ve gargled with gasoline. And the worst part is that it’s not even summer yet.

My stepdad says I need to spend the day cleaning the garage. I hate being out here, but I like this chore because my nosiness is sanctioned for the sake of organization.

Halfway through rifling through his stuff I’ve decided my stepdad has never been interesting in his life. This whole four car garage is filled with his shit and all of it sucks. There is a box of Megan McLachlan CDs and posters, another box containing “Most Improved” awards from what looks like a summer camp he went to 100 years ago, and a binder with several emails printed out and put in plastic sleeves of other people giving him kudos at his job. I don’t know what I was hoping to find, but it’s not this garbage.

When I go to put everything on the curb for trash collection, I find a box belonging to Mom. It’s not marked as hers, but I can tell it is because it looks like a family of rats was living inside of it. The lid is torn, there is a weird, peppery smell coming from the opening that I’m sure is probably her Russian witch medicine. Everything Mom owns is disheveled, but it surprises me that she has a box in here, because she usually keeps all her things in her closet behind lock and key. After her last husband had torn and burned her clothes and the family photos, she is vigilant about her things.

I flip open the box, hungrily. There are some tiny Russian horoscope pamphlets, Houston newspapers from the '90s, and a magazine I would recognize anywhere. Mom showed it to me when I was little. I remember it as her modeling catalogue. I was so enthralled with it.

Rose Russians.

“Rose Russians,” I mumble. “Rose Russians?”

I scan the pages.

This does not look like Russian Vogue.

This doesn’t look like a fashion magazine at all.

This catalogue is clogged with women, but they don’t look like they’re advertising clothes. They’re posing in front of beds, in front of houses, up close, on chairs, crossing their legs.

My hands are buzzing as I slide down to the concrete floor of the garage.

I flip to a dog-eared page and find Mom’s face quickly. Her photo takes up a quarter of a page. It’s tiny compared to some of these other women’s photos. There is a smattering of text next to it. I read the words slowly, carefully. I’m looking for a family and eternal love.

My stomach drops.

“Son of a bitch,” I whisper. “She’s a mail-order bride.”

I walk out of the garage, my mind racing, and head to my room. I think back on where I had first seen the catalogue with my mother’s face looking out from the glossy pages. I remember going home to my mom after career day in first grade and asking her what she did for a job. She told me she was a model. She showed me the same magazine I have in my hands now. I didn’t know how to read, so I assumed she was holding the Russian equivalent of Vogue. My mom had always told me she modeled and waitressed in Russia. She had a degree, but she could make more money with her appearance than her brains.

I feel angry, thinking about all the weird details of my life. Details I knew weren’t normal for other kids but were normal for me. My stepdad is so much older than her. We have a huge house. I remember how she had a salary requirement when she was searching for a husband.

I scoff.

I think about Jen’s mom, who is a lawyer. Maritzia’s mom cleans houses, Layla’s mom raised Layla and her siblings.

All my friends have issues with their parents, but they have mothers they can respect.

A chilling feeling emerges in my gut.

I have to be better than my mom. If I’m not better than her, I will end up like her.

Dependent on a man.

I can’t have that life.

I go downstairs, ready to put the magazine back where I found it.

My hand is on the doorknob of the garage when I hear Mom’s bedroom door open.

“Katyusha,” she says. I look around me and realize I don’t have anywhere to hide the magazine. “Are you done cleaning the garage?”

She comes closer to me and her eyes brighten when she notices what’s in my hands.

“Where did you find this?” Mom asks, a crease in her forehead, her tone sharp.

When she asks me this, I realize I am so angry I could explode.

“In the garage, when I was cleaning.”

“I don’t appreciate you going through my stuff,” she says, back.

“You told me you were a model for Coke,” I say, “I didn’t know you were actually a mail-order bride.”

“A what?” she asks, like she is confused.

I point to the magazine. “Mail-order bride. That’s what we call women who sell themselves.” Mom is usually the mean one. Now it’s my turn.

Mom sighs, closing her eyes. I can’t read what she is thinking. I can hardly ever read what she was thinking.

Finally, she says, “Everyone I know was doing it,” in her chopped Russian accent.

I don’t respond.

She adds, gently, “It’s how we got out.”

Mom is wearing a mini skirt and a tight, hot pink, spaghetti-strapped shirt. When I was little, I remember asking her to wear pants and regular-sleeved shirts like my friend Dream’s mom. I always wanted my mom to be the same, and this just proves how different she is. I hate it.

Mom comes closer to me, her face red. I don’t know if she’s angry or if she’s ashamed.

“You could have had a more respectable occupation,” I say. I stand up taller; I feel better than her. More powerful.

“A what?”

“A job. You could have had a regular job. Come here on a worker visa or something.”

I am more American than she is. I’m not as low as she is. I speak in words she doesn’t understand.

“I— You don’t understand how it was back then. Besides, I didn’t marry anyone until later.”

“Who was Joe?” I ask.

Our story is clicking into place for me, and I hate it.

“He helped us cross the border. It was different with him.”

“Did you promise him sex to do it?” I spit the words, aiming them at her.

She looks away. “It’s none of your business,” she responds.

I bite down on my teeth. I want to call her a prostitute. I want to keep pummeling her. I want my words to hurt.

“Why did you tell me you were a model?” I seethed. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“What else did I have?” She shouts, her eyes watery. For a moment I think she is going to slap me. “You came back from school and talked about how everyone had a job for this fucking job fair. What did you want me to say? I show you the magazine. I—I had nothing else.”

I feel deflated. I want a normal mom. A mom who respects herself. An American mom, who wouldn’t be caught dead in a catalog, waiting to be bought.

I want her to be more than a mail-order bride. I want her to stand up for herself, to stand up for me, to not have had to sacrifice everything, including her own daughter.

I want her to be strong. I want to be proud of her. I want her to use her fucking voice instead of this chopped accent that she has, this accent that people label as whorish because she is Eastern European.

I slam the magazine down, leaving it for her.

“You sold me too!” I yell, walking away.

Excerpted from UNGRATEFUL IMMIGRANT DAUGHTER © 2026 by Katya Suvorova. Reprinted with permission from Alcove Press. All rights reserved

You’ve spent the past year penciling in your appointment viewing, binge-watching your nights away, and helping turn your new favorite series into a word-of-mouth hit; now it’s time to tune into the 2026 Emmys to honor the best of the best in TV. Tonight, the awards show is being held at the Peacock Theater in downtown L.A., where it’s airing live on NBC and Peacock for the TV fans at home.

Whether you love a rich drama that keeps you hungry for the next episode, a comedy that doubles as comfort food, or you’re a reality devotee, half the fun of television is discussing, dissecting, referencing, and memeing it with fellow fans. At Marie Claire, you can trust that our Culture team loves the small screen just as much as the big screen, has watched countless hours of series this year, and is excited to be sat on our couches and following along with the Emmys. Here, you can find our live breakdown of the best bits, wins, performances, and takeaways all night.

Tonight, Law & Order: SVU star, activist, and all-around TV’s golden gal Mariska Hargitay takes over hosting duties for the first time. Olivia Benson herself is about to take to the stage now that the red carpet’s closed. (Thanks to Zendaya, Selena Gomez, Chase Infiniti, and Meg Stalter turning heads with their looks, it’s safe to say the fashion has already brought some of the night’s buzziest moments.)

In case you need a refresher before the ceremony begins, the 78th Primetime Emmy Awards recognize shows that aired between June 1, 2025, and May 31, 2026. (If you’re wondering why Heated Rivalry didn’t sweep nominations, well, that’s because the Emmys are for U.S. productions and co-productions, and Canada’s Crave funded season 1.) A handful of titles lead the nominations: The Pitt’s sophomore season garnered a whopping 25, with Hacks’ final installment right behind it at 24—setting a record for a comedy series—and new hit Widow’s Bay comes in at 19. Pluribus (18), Beef season 2 (16), and the limited series DTF St. Louis (13) also earned a fair share of noms. (They all already took home trophies at the 78th Creative Arts Emmy Awards last week.)

As the Marie Claire Culture team watches the star-studded event, we’ll share updates on everything you need to know so you don’t miss a thing.

In this author-curated rendition, R.F. Kuang—the scholar and best-selling author behind Babel, Katabasis, and Yellowface—shares which novels about language-learning inspired her seventh novel, Taipei Story.

R.F. Kuang’s fascination with language has made her a literary superstar. Her bestselling works—from historical epics with complex magic systems to a biting contemporary satire of the publishing industry—explore the ways words can be warped and co-opted in search of power, fame, and influence. For her latest release, Kuang turned to a place that can strike fear in the heart of any linguaphile: the immersion classroom.

Taipei Story, Kuang’s first contemporary coming-of-age novel, follows Yale student Lily through her summer attending an intensive Chinese-language program in Taiwan. The first half of the book is a travelogue of fumbling miscommunications inside and outside of the classroom, as Lily navigates inscrutable teachers, roommate woes, and that diasporic dissonance of feeling like an outsider in her ancestral homeland. In a way, the fictional Lily is walking in her creator’s footsteps; to write the novel, Kuang pulled from her own study-abroad era in the summer of 2023.

“While I went to many of the same places and did many of the same activities as Lily did, her reactions and interpretations are wholly invented,” Kuang tells Marie Claire. “I wanted to explore loss and alienation from the perspective of someone much younger and worse equipped to deal with it all.”

Though Kuang is best known for revitalizing the “dark academia” novel, with its innately gifted protagonists, the Cambridge, Oxford, and soon-to-be Yale graduate embraced the natural conflict that misapprehension brings for her latest novel. “You don’t speak the language. You keep blundering and violating cultural norms,” she describes. “You don’t know the right way to interpret anything you’re witnessing. All of that friction is hilarious.”

Kuang counts these types of novels, ones that explore the gap between intention and comprehension that foreign-language speakers face, among her biggest literary influences. The big question of Taipei Story is whether Lily will ever cross that chasm. When her grandfather passes away in the middle of her program—as Kuang’s did in real life—she has to parse through her family’s unspoken history without the complete fluency she’d been chasing. The lesson that comes from this struggle is one that Kuang would give to her young self today.

“Miscommunication is inevitable, and so is falling flat on your face,” she says. “The only way to get better at a language is to make mistakes over and over again, so just put yourself out on a limb and learn to laugh at yourself.”

To coincide with the release of her highly anticipated new book on September 8, we asked the author to share the books about miscommunication among language-learners that inspired Taipei Story, from globetrotting fiction to campus novels.

The abridged, dour fifth season has left viewers wondering where the #MomTok show can go from here. But there's no need to fret, as the show's breakneck production special means viewers are guaranteed more episodes. Read on for everything we know about the future of The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives so far.

Everything We Know About 'The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives' Season 6 So Far

Will there be more episodes of 'The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives' season 5?

The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives season 5 ends on the ultimate cliffhanger. The show doesn't include any footage recorded following the production pause (outside of confessionals). The abrupt ending, paired with a "To Be Continued" graphic, had fans running to the Internet to ask when the rest of season 5's episodes would drop.

Alas, a Season 5, Part 2 drop is not on the horizon. Hulu confirmed season 5's truncated length ahead of the show's return. In fact, an insider had revealed the filming timeline to PEOPLE back in May.

"Right now, they’re just filming confessionals for season 5,” the source said at the time. "They’ve decided they’re not going to film the rest of season 5, but apparently they’re still going to film season 6."

Is 'The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives' renewed for season 6?

#MomTok is officially too big to fail. On August 6, 2026, Layla Taylor revealed on Hulu's Get Real podcast that the cast had begun filming The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives season 6.

Later that same day, outlets reported that Hulu had ordered 20 more episodes of SLOMW, which will make up seasons 6 and 7. This follows the series' production pattern so far, following the renewals of seasons 2 and 3 in October 2024, and seasons 4 and 5 in November 2025.

When will 'The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives' season 6 be released?

Hulu has not confirmed season 6's release yet, but SLOMW has proved that they can make their twice-yearly release schedule come hell or high water. With production already filming new episodes, it's likely that the reality phenomenon will be back in spring 2027.

Who in the cast will return for 'The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives' season 6?

Season 6 will bring some major shake-ups to The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives. Days after season 5's release, fan-favorite Mikayla Matthews announced her departure from the series via Instagram. "I made my decision over a week ago, after hearing some news, that I will not be continuing the show at this moment," she wrote.

"I’ve said from the beginning of this that I’m not comfortable being a part of something that continues to platform behavior I don’t agree [with] especially given my own experience growing up in a home with multiple forms of abuse," she continued. "There’s no amount of money worth going against my morals or changing the stance I’ve had since I first saw and heard the things that made me feel this strongly. And for me personally, continuing to directly profit from this behavior feels wrong and unethical. It feels like a disservice to the children, everyone’s healing and the millions of people watching."

The news notably comes two weeks after Page Six reported that Taylor Frankie Paul will return for SLOMW season 6 "with the full support of ABC and Disney." Following Mikayla's post, Variety confirmed that, though production began on season 6 without her, Taylor's now set to resume filming.

A day after her initial post, Mikayla clarified her stance in an Instagram Story. Per The Wrap, she explained that she only began filming season 6 because of the unnamed person's absence, and that she hasn't filmed "a day since" she learned of their return.

"The ONLY reason I’m leaving the show is because I was told a certain person was coming back," she wrote. "I told them before agreeing to do 6 that I wasn’t going to film if that certain someone came back. Because it’s UNETHICAL and kids are involved. And I’m being put in an unfair position because of the things I’ve seen and heard that I don’t agree with."

It's currently unknown how much of Mikayla's already-filmed footage will appear in season 6. According to her Story, she will only take part in "contractual obligations and [confessional] interviews for what I have filmed" moving forward.

In the wake of Mikayla's exit, other members of #MomTok are reconsidering their involvement with the series past season 6. Both Mayci Neeley and Layla Taylor responded to fans' questions on whether they will remain on the show, per PEOPLE. The stars confirmed that they would finish out season 6, but admitted that their future with the show is, in Layla's words, "tbd."

Though season 7's roster remains to be seen, it's likely that Jessi Draper and Miranda Hope will join Mayci and Layla in the main cast of season 6. Jen Affleck has also been spotted filming new episodes, but it's unclear how much screen time she'll get, since she has a lot going on. (Jen's currently pregnant with her fourth child, and has reportedly joined the spinoff The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives: Orange County.) It's currently unknown whether Taylor Frankie Paul will rejoin the main cast, or if she'll return in a guest role.

It's also (unfortunately) likely that the husbands of #DadTok will return for season 6. However, there's a possibility that the men who are publicly on the outs with the women—including Dakota, Jordan Ngatikaura, and Chase McWhorter—will receive less screentime.

Meanwhile, original cast member Whitney Leavitt has also confirmed that she will not return to the series for season 6. The influencer turned Broadway star announced the news in May 2026, before marking the release of season 5 with a farewell tribute to her "forever momtok."

Leavitt opened up about her departure during her June 2026 appearance on Marie Claire's Nice Talk. "This time is very different," she said, comparing the exit to her previous #MomTok hiatuses. "The times I'd left in the past were [because of] frustration and anger. It just wasn't a healthy way to leave. This time, I'm leaving with gratitude. Like, my cup is full. I don't feel like there's anything more for me there."

Will there be new cast members on 'The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives' season 6?

Though nothing's been confirmed, the streets are saying that #MomTok has found some new members. Weeks after the season 6 renewal announcement, the show's stars were spotted filming in the Italian Riviera for the franchise's first international cast trip. It seems that the women were joined by two new Utah-based influencers: Kate Racker and Sarah Beeston.

Sarah Beeston may already be a familiar face to viewers who frequent certain corners of the internet. She already boasts 4.5 million followers on TikTok, while her family YouTube channel, the Beeston Fam, has over 2.9 million subscribers. Meanwhile, Kate Racker has already been in the background of SLOMW for years, as Chase McWhorter's on-again, off-again girlfriend. We'll have to see whether either of the women will step into the spotlight on season 6.

What will 'The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives' season 6 be about?

After five episodes, one for every week of filming the show got through before the pause, The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives season 5 only dedicates three minutes to the aftermath. Between clips of TikTok speculation and courthouse(!) footage, each of the show's stars (minus Taylor) sits down for confessionals where they confirm that #MomTok is in shambles amid the rift in the friend group. The final question posed by season 5—where do we go from here—is answered by a simple graphic: "To be continued."

Thanks to #MomTok's ubiquity on social media, there's already several clues of what viewers will see in season 6. In addition to the Milan trip, some developments in the casts' lives includes Jen's aforementioned pregnancy and move to California, Layla coming out as bisexual and beginning a new relationship, and Miranda also seemingly starting a new romance (with the former fling of a Love Island USA star).

And of course, Taylor's drama will remain a subject of conversation whether or not she's on screen. (Just look at how much Demi Engemann is mentioned in season 5, despite not appearing once.) Though Taylor didn't film a final confessional for season 5, she did open up about feeling "betrayed" and "abandoned" by her friends, in a July 2026 post.

"I’ll be the first to admit my wrong doing’s in the MomTok mess. We’re at each other’s throats and I’m removing myself from responding to any of it moving forward," she wrote on Instagram. "I’ve never discredited them. I’ve always supported all of them in their success. I’ve had their backs in times of need. I became defensive and let my ego take over when I heard …what I heard. I never felt so betrayed and abandoned by so many people I would have stood by no matter how exhausted."

Months later, it seems that those complicated feelings still go both ways. As of season 5's release, only Taylor and Jessi have followed each other back on Instagram. Also, in the Page Six report about Taylor's return, an insider claimed that there's "still a lot of hurt” among the women following the production pause. "[Taylor] doesn’t necessarily feel like she’s been supported by the women throughout the last few months," they added. It's anyone's guess on whether #MomTok will survive this.

The new teen drama, about a star rower (Miku Martineau) who has to find her place at an East Coast prep school after a family scandal implodes her life, arrived on Netflix on Sept. 10. Don’t be discouraged if you don’t know your way around a boat. The sports-romance from creator Vivian Lin gives you the full download on competitive rowing—you’ll know port from starboard and coxswain from stroke seat in no time—while also diving deep into the rivalries, romances, and all-around drama happening Easton Prep.

As Martineau told Netflix's Tudum, the show has "a lot of drama, a lot of abs, a lot of rowing." Read on to learn more about her and the rest of the crew grabbing the oars on this series, from an Off Campus star to a Mad Men alum and more.

Everything to Know About the Cast and Characters of 'Crew Girl'

Miku Martineau as Teagan Tao

Teagan is a talented 16-year-old rower who’s forced to relocate with her mom after her father is accused of financial crimes and goes on the run. She arrives at Easton Prep only to find out there’s no girls’ crew team — so instead, she becomes the coxswain (the person responsible for setting the pace and strategy for his or her crew) for the dysfunctional boys’ team. Not only is she trying to steer her way through a new life and a new school, she also has to get her new team to trust her out on the water.

Martineau, 21, is a Toronto-born Canadian actress who starred in the Netflix murder-mystery series Bet, which was renewed for a second season. You've also seen her in the 2021 action-thriller film Kate, the Paramount+ coming-of-age comedy Honor Society, and as the younger version of Michelle Yeoh's character, Phillipa Georgiou, in the sci-fi series Star Trek: Section 31.

Miku Martineau's Instagram: @miku.martineau

Jessica Paré as Ella Tao

Teagan's mother, Ella, is also figuring out how to start over. After her husband’s alleged crimes come to light, she moves them both back to her childhood home in Eagle's Cove to start this next phase of their lives, and enrolls Teagan at Easton Prep.

Paré, 45, is a Canadian actress and singer best known for playing Megan, Don Draper’s secretary-turned-wife, on the acclaimed series Mad Men. Born in Montreal, Paré has also landed roles on the CBS series Seal Team and films like Wicker Park, Hot Tub Time Machine, and Brooklyn.

Jessica Paré's Instagram: @jesspareforreal

Samuel Braun as Josh Regis

Josh is Easton Prep’s golden boy, a wealthy legacy student (his grandfather owns an airline) and the team’s coveted “stroke” seat. He isn’t exactly welcoming to Teagan when she joins the team, and they butt heads when he thinks he knows better than the new coxswain.

Samuel Braun got his start playing young Luke in 2013’s Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters. Since then, the Canadian actor has gone on to appear in Voices For Isabelle, Superman & Lois, The Way Home, Time Cut, and more.

Samuel Braun's Instagram: @samhbraun

Kyle Clark as Cam Dillinger

Cam is a quiet but determined local who attends Easton on a rowing scholarship and refuses to be underestimated. His working-class background makes him very different from the posh Easton students he (and Teagan) interact with on- and offshore.

Another Canadian-born actor, Clark has appeared in episodes of Riverdale (in an uncredited role as a young version of Jughead’s father, Forsythe “F.P.” Jones), The Baby-Sitters Club, and Home Before Dark.

Kyle Clark's Instagram: @itskyleclark

Thomas Cadrot as Coach Matt Hayden

Coach Hayden is the coach of the Easton Prep boys’ crew team, which means he’s juggling the chaotic team members, school administration, and very rich parents with a lot of opinions. He also grew up with Teagan’s mother, Ella, but stayed in town after graduation to start his own family.

Thomas Cadrot was born in Paris and can be seen in Scream VI, Family Law, So Help Me Todd, and more.

Thomas Cadrot's Instagram: @thomas.cadrot

Connor Paton as Ryder Regis

Ryder (above, right) is Josh’s cousin and fellow Easton crew teammate. He’s sick of being stuck in his cousin’s shadow.

Connor Paton made his acting debut in the TV movie Away & Back and has gone onto appear on Riverdale, Girlfriends’ Guide to Divorce, iZombie, Happy Face, and the recent Netflix adaptation of Little House on the Prairie.

Jude Wilson as Bronson "Baloo" Garner

Bronson, aka "Baloo," is a good-natured member of the crew team. His sister, Britney (more on her below), is also an Easton student.

Jude Wilson is a Canadian actor based in Vancouver. You’ve seen him in the 2019 Are You Afraid of the Dark? reboot, Riverdale, Firefly Lane, A Million Little Things, and Fellow Travelers.

Jude Wilson's Instagram: @juderwilson

Olga Petsa as Juliet Morny

Juliet (above, right) is Teagan's new friend at Easton. Like many of their classmates, she comes from a wealthy family and boards at school — as opposed to Teagan, who lives at home and commutes.

Olga Petsa, 20, is a Cyprus-born actress who moved to Canada with her family when she was 9. In addition to Crew Girl, her onscreen credits include Mixtape, I Used to Be Funny, and Black Mirror. According to IMDb, she'll also be seen in the upcoming Netflix movie The Mosquito Bowl and season 4 of Yellowjackets.

Olga Petsa's Instagram: @olgapetsa

Vincent Muller as Damon Quaid

Damon is a member of the Easton Prep crew team with a propensity for starting trouble.

Vincent Muller, 21, has acted on shows like Riverdale, Watson, Murder in a Small Town, and Hope Valley: 1874.

Vincent Muller’s Instagram: @_vincentmuller_

Riley Davis as Noah Bainbridge

Straight-laced Noah is another member of the Easton Prep crew team.

Off Campus fans will recognize Riley Davis as Sean, Allie’s ex-boyfriend, on the hit Prime Video series. The Canadian actor has also been seen in Fire Country, the Curious Caterer Mysteries, The Copenhagen Test, and more.

Riley Davis' Instagram: @rileydavisfilm

Sage Linder as Britney Garner

Britney (above, center right) is Easton's resident Queen Bee and the "twibling" of Baloo. (Their mother, a senator, used two different surrogates at the same time.) She’s also Josh's girlfriend.

Sage Linder, 25, was born and raised in Vancouver, Canada. She appeared in episodes of Riverdale and Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist, and The Good Doctor, along with starring in the miniseries Harlan Coben's Shelter. She also plays Bronte in the Disney+ series Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

Sage Linder’s Instagram: @sagelinder

Alaska Leigh as Amber

Amber (above, center right) is a friend of Britney's and a fellow member of the cool-kid crowd at Easton.

Alaska Leigh began her career at the age of 3 through dancing and modeling work, according to her IMDb page. Originally from Queensland, Australia, she's appeared in the TV movie Dying for a Family and series like Fire Country, Creepshow, and Dead Boy Detectives. She's also been cast in national tours for the musicals Chicago and Rock of Ages.

Alaska Leigh's Instagram: @alaskaleigh

Connor Wong as Perry Chou

Another member of the crew team at Easton Prep, Perry (above, center) is described as "always on trend, never on rhythm."

Connor Wong got his start in dance and theater, per his IMDb, and made his acting debut in 2020's The Baby-Sitters Club. He’s also been seen in Home Before Dark, Monster High: The Movie, and the second season of Cruel Summer.

Connor Wong's Instagram: @connor.wong

Jarrett Carlington as Chris "Crab Catcher" Padmore

Chris Padmore is another Easton rower. His nickname, "Crab Catcher," refers to his rowing ability, or lack thereof. (A "crab" in rowing-speak, is when your oar gets stuck underwater mid-stroke.)

Jarrett Carlington is a Canadian-born actor raised in Bermuda. He's landed roles on Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist, Resident Alien, and Fire Country, as well as in the 2020 film Spontaneous.

Jarrett Carlington's Instagram: @jarrettcarlington

Niall Matter as Richard Regis

Richard Regis is Josh's entitled father, who's an Easton alum and former rower himself. He also knew Teagan's mother, Ella, and Coach Harvey from back when they all were students.

Niall Matter is a Canadian-American actor who’s appeared in films like The Predator and Watchmen. On TV, he's appeared in Primeval: New World, Melrose Place, The Good Doctor, and Supernatural, in addition to Hallmark shows and movies like When Calls the Heart and We Met in December.

Niall Matter's Instagram: @officiallyniallmatter

Made In Korea made its debut last holiday season, introducing viewers to a twist-filled crime noir set in the turbulent 1970s. The first season followed two men on different sides of the law: Baek Kitae (played by Crash Landing on You's Hyun Bin), a morally-grey officer in the Korean Central Intelligence Agency (KCIA); and Jang Geonyoung (Jung Woo-sung), the dogged prosecutor determined to expose Kitae's dirty secrets.

Season 2 picks up nine years later, as Kitae reaches the height of his power and faces a surprising new foe: his younger brother, Baek Kihyun (played by Bloodhounds' Woo Do-hwan). The sibling rivalry adds an engrossing new layer to the three men's quests for power, amid a rapidly-changing political landscape.

Ahead of season 2's premiere on September 9, Hyun Bin and Woo Do-hwan sat down with Marie Claire in Seoul, South Korea, and teased the family drama at the center of the six-part installment.

"Kitae and Kihyun are brothers, but we also thought of them a lot as father and son," Woo said. "As the son, Kihyun [begins] the process of clashing with his father's thoughts."

Hyun added, "Kitae constantly sees Kihyun trying to do something else, trying to go in a different direction. Kitae experiences a lot of internal conflict, because he's a person with a firm belief that he must protect his family." He continued, "[In season 2], not only Kitae, but all the characters fight even more fiercely to gain the upper hand."

For its second and final season, Made in Korea reunited its all-star roster of award-winning Korean actors and global stars. Below, read on for a breakdown of the main cast and characters of Hulu's historical K-drama.

Everything to Know About the Cast of 'Made in Korea' Season 2

Hyun Bin as Baek Kitae

Baek Kitae is a top agent at the KCIA, a government agency modeled after the American CIA which serves as the enforcing arm of a military dictatorship. By season 2, Kitae is next in line to run the agency. He also balances his government career with his off-hours work smuggling illegal drugs.

Hyun Bin, 43, made his acting debut in the early 2000s and rose to fame with roles in classic K-dramas like My Lovely Sam Soon, Worlds Within, and Secret Garden, as well as box-office hits like Confidential Assignment. He's best known globally for starring alongside his eventual wife Son Ye-jin in the beloved romantic K-drama Crash Landing on You. In 2022, the couple got married and welcomed a son.

Earlier this year, Hyun won Best Actor at the prestigious Baeksang Arts Awards, for his performance in season 1 of Made in Korea.

Jung Woo-sung as Jang Geonyoung

Busan prosecutor Jang Geonyoung first enters the KCIA's crosshairs due to his narcotics investigation targeting the Manjae Gang. Geonyoung determination to take down Kitae's smuggling operation is driven by a traumatic familial history with drugs. After hitting rock bottom at the end of season 1, Geonyoung will "transform from a man pursuing justice into one consumed by revenge," per The Korea Times.

Jung Woo-sung, 53, is one of Korea's most-famous leading men. He spent his career starring in blockbuster films like Musa (2001); A Moment to Remember (2004); The Good, the Bad, the Weird (2008); Cold Eyes (2013); Beasts Clutching at Straws (2020); and 12.12: The Day (2023). Before Made In Korea, he starred in the K-dramas Asphalt Man, Athena: Goddess of War, and Tell Me That You Love Me.

In 2016, Jung and his best friend, Squid Game star Lee Jung-jae, co-founded the talent agency Artist Company. The agency is now home to many of Korea's top actors, including Park So-dam, Kim Hye-yoon, and Lim Ji-yeon.

Jung Woo-sung's Instagram: @tojws

Woo Do-hwan as Baek Kihyun

At the start of Made in Korea, Kitae's younger brother Baek Kihyun (above, right) is a rising soldier torn between patriotic duty and loyalty to the brother who raised him after his parents' death. By season 2, Kihyun has a position in the Defense Security Demand that puts him fully at odds with Kitae.

Woo Do-hwan, 34, rose to fame with roles in K-dramas like Save Me, Mad Dog, Tempted, My Country: The New Age, and The King: Eternal Monarch. His leading roles as Kim Geon-woo in Bloodhounds and Hae Jo in Mr. Plankton propelled him to global fame. In 2021, Woo won Korea's Golden Cinema Festival’s best new actor award for his role in the film The Divine Fury.

Woo Do-hwan's Instagram: @wdohwan

Won Ji-an as Ikeda Yuji

Kitae spends season 1 building a business relationship with Ikeda Yuji, a lobbyist and an influential figure in the Ikeda yakuza clan. Born Choi Yuji, she was adopted by Ikeda Osamu, the clan's leader, as a child. Though she wants to inherit the position, many members of the clan will never accept a Zainichi (an ethnic Korean living in Japan) as their boss.

Netflix K-drama fans may recognize Won Ji-an, 27, from her fan-favorite role as Se-mi (No. 380) on Squid Game season 2. Last year, the actress made her Hulu debut in the contemporary political thriller Tempest before joining Made in Korea. She also led her first romance drama, starring alongside Park Seo-joon in Surely Tomorrow.

Won Ji-an's Instagram: @wonjianolive

Seo Eun-soo as Oh Yejin

In season 1, Oh Yejin is a determined officer working on Geunyoung's narcotics investigation. Though she's talented, she faces an uphill battle in the male-dominated police force. Nine years later, Yejin has become Korea's first female prosecutor in the narcotics division.

Seo Eun-soo, 32, is best known for her standout roles in K-dramas like My Golden Life, The Smile Has Left Your Eyes, Unlock My Boss, and Chief Detective 1958. She also starred alongside Shin Si-ah and Park Eun-bin in the Korean horror movie The Witch: Part 2. The Other One.

Seo Eun-soo's Instagram: @jj_minii

Jung Sung-il as Cheon Seokjung

Cheon Seokjung, the president's close advisor and Kitae's most powerful ally, is played by Jung Sung-il, 46. A prolific theater actor, Jung became a global breakout star in 2022, with his performance as Ha Do-yeong in Netflix's revenge drama The Glory. His other K-drama credits include Birthcare Center, Bad and Crazy, Our Blues and Unmasked.

In 2024, Jung won a Baeksang Arts Award for Best New Actor for his role in the Netflix historical film Uprising.

Jung Sung-il's Instagram: @ygmicael

Champion knows her sports history. If you aren't familiar, the TV broadcaster has hosted multiple shows for ESPN, including SportsCenter, as well as the The Cari Champion Show for Amazon Prime Video. Today, she hosts the podcast Naked Sports with Cari Champion and co-hosts another podcast, Flagrant and Funny, with Jemele Hill.

Naturally, Champion is well-versed in what’s happening in the WNBA. After a major surge in popularity over the past few years, the league has increasingly become a flashpoint in the broader debate over transgender athletes. Anti-trans media figures, politicians, activists, and members of the public have argued that trans participation presents a problem for the WNBA. Two former NBA players even said they planned to enter the WNBA draft after falsely declaring themselves women in an apparent attempt to make an anti-trans point

"This is all a distraction," Champion tells editor-in-chief Nikki Ogunnaike on "Nice Talk." "And it's also a distraction for the ladies."

She explains, "Men who've never even watched the WNBA, but have political leanings and/or big platforms are weighing in. And it's just unfortunate that with all of this—I mean, the money and the lights and the attention, the good attention and the growth—that someone has to come and rain on these ladies' parades and try to divert attention from the great work that is happening on the court."

Not only that, but Champion says that there isn't actually a fight to have.

"I just wish the 'we just are trying to protect women' crowd would just be quiet and let these women play sports. And if they are quiet, they will soon find out there are no transgender people trying to come in and take away the rights of these women. It's not even an issue on the NCAA level—they've banned it."

The ban, Champion explains, makes the objections to trans women playing in the WNBA not just hateful, in her view, but irrelevant.

"You got everything you wanted. There's no way in the world that a transgender athlete is going to go from high school to the pros, there are just too many different levels in between that they are banned from before they could even make it there," she says.

"There are a lot of athletes in the WNBA who are speaking out against the hatred and the response from a certain group of people is, 'Oh, you must want men in women's sports.' You're like, 'How did you go? How did we get?' ... Where's the nuance? Literacy is dead. No one can pay attention anymore. It's maddening."

Still, Champion remains optimistic that the players and fans can move on.

"We hope now that we are entering playoff season that the main thing can stay the main thing, which is some great basketball," she says. "We have some amazing players, and these ladies have name recognition, and they're selling their jerseys, and they're signing autographs, and they're signing major deals, and they never thought they'd see this day."

For more from Champion—like how being “unapologetic about being curious” made her career—check out this week's installment of "Nice Talk." The episode is available everywhere you listen to podcasts.

Since 2013, Bailey has published 65 books—ranging from hit sports-romance titles like the Big Shots franchise to rom-coms like the Hot and Hammered series—and sold over 4 million copies. But this fall, the best-selling author will release a novel that's unlike anything else she's written thus far.

Cue Broken Rival, a high-concept time-travel romance. The sci-fi melodrama centers on 18-year-old Magnolia, who just so happens to be the daughter of the inventors of time travel. When her parents leave her in the past after the technology becomes corrupted and leads to their persecution, she finds herself trying to adjust and searching for answers in her new reality. That's all but complicated when she's caught in a love triangle between two brothers—including one who works for a militia group that hunts time travelers.

Before Broken Rival releases on October 6, Bailey has shared an exclusive excerpt with Marie Claire. Read on for the advanced chapter, which features a sweet moment between Magnolia and her boyfriend Fallon just before danger begins to loom in the distance.

Drumbeats pepper the crisp fall air.

The scent of hot chocolate and corn dogs drift through the gaps in the metal bleachers. Sparkles painted onto the cheeks of students catch the spotlights, never staying still. Shimmering, moving, going silver to pink. A horn signals the start of the second half and I smile, watching Fallon and his teammates take the field, the white knees of his football pants soiled with grass stains, his helmet dangling from his fingertips. He always leaves it off until the exact second official play resumes. One of his numerous good luck rituals.

Like kissing me in the parking lot before a game.

Taping his pinkie and ring finger together with white strips of athletic tape.

Parting his golden coif of hair to the left for away games.

Feeling eyes on my back, I turn and seek out Fallon’s mother, Camille, in the top row of the bleachers, her honey-colored hair pulled into a high ponytail, his jersey number—9—painted on her cheek in red, outlined in black. Looking nervous, she tilts her head toward the scoreboard, which shows a tied score. I hold up my crossed fingers and she does the same.

See you at home later, she mouths. Whatever happens.

Comfort steals through me and I smile, nodding. Home.

Home is a big house in the southeast corner of Aubrey with an entryway full of crosses. The opposite wall is painted pitch-black, but if you look at it from an angle, you can see where someone used a finger to draw the outline of a six-foot-two human figure in the wet paint. A nod to the boy who used to live there.

Home is dirty cereal bowls stacked in the sink, the smell of acrylic paint and daisies gathered from the fields surrounding the house. It’s the sound of the pastor muttering his sermons to himself in the study, his feet creaking the floorboards while he paces. It’s crop dusters flying over the Overmeyers’ farm to the north.

Home is Fallon.

I sigh gustily enough to emit a white cloud in front of my face, my gloved hands wedging between my thighs in my lap. When I came home with the Willoughbys two years ago, I slept in the guest room for three months until the pastor caught Fallon kissing me in the downstairs bathroom. He bought a small trailer after that and parked it in the backyard. Since then, the trailer has been my home. “I’m not harboring any notions this is going to keep you two away from each other,” he’d said wryly, opening the door to the trailer and gesturing us inside. Fallon laughed at my furious blush and tickled me up the stairs. “But if y’all are going to insist on holding hands in church, I think we’ll need to consider appearances.” The pastor dragged a long-suffering hand down his face.

“You two couldn’t keep this platonic, could you? Had to make it hard on me, huh?” Fallon laughs. “Sorry, Dad. She’s way too cute.”

Two years. Gone by in a blur. I’m eighteen now, but at sixteen, I still wasn’t used to being told I was pretty. My parents never once told me so, nor did I have access to a lot of kids my own age. As a child, I’d been close friends with another scientist’s son, but they left our station when I was six, leaving me isolated at our perfunctory employee housing near the lab. My thick brown hair always seemed kind of ordinary. Brown eyes, unremarkable.

Fallon called them bronze, though. He declared that, somehow by looking at me, a person could tell by these bronze eyes that I’m smart. He told me I smelled like fresh, wild raspberries. That my lips were soft, my voice was like music. He’d lean over and hug me out of the blue.

Still does.

Eager to set my sights on my boyfriend, I return my attention to the football field and frown. Where are the players? I swear I saw them return from the locker room just a minute ago.

I stand up and lean over, trying to determine if the team are out of sight or if maybe there is a problem and—

“Magnolia Brown.”

Hearing my name over the announcer’s speaker, my skin immediately shrinks around my bones. The fear of being trapped and removed, like a spider on someone’s bedroom ceiling, has never quite gone away. But it’s Fallon’s voice, which doesn’t make me nervous—God, no, just the opposite—it’s just that everyone seated in the bleachers has turned to stare at me now.

And they knew right where I was sitting, because they always do.

I’m a moving landmark, no matter where I go.

Sounds grow tinny and distant in my ears, but I smile through the temporary discomfort and find my boyfriend where he stands in the announcer’s booth, the ends of his hair brushing his filthy shoulder pads. Those familiar white teeth are stretched in a smile, hovering just above the silver microphone. His teammates flank him on all sides, giving him good-natured slaps and shoves of encouragement.

“Magnolia Brown, I love you. Will you go to prom with me?”

Briefly, I catch Camille’s eye, and she gives me a beaming eye roll that says exactly what I’m thinking: There he goes again. Fallon being Fallon. There are no small gestures with my boyfriend. No minor commitments. He only leaves behind big, boisterous, memorable marks. Everyone loves him for it, too.

That fondness for Fallon is why the people of Aubrey have slowly accepted me as one of their own over the last two years. There might be an asterisk beside my name in the town records forever, but to Fallon, I’m just Magnolia. I’m not simply the girl whose parents negatively impacted the course of history.

You’re just Magnolia. Good through and through. Nothing like her parents.

Not a threat.

Sweet and helpful and most importantly, grateful to still have her head.

I push an effusive smile onto my face, pressure leaking out from behind my eyes. “Yes,” I whisper. Then louder, “Yeah, I will.”

The game buzzer gives several noisy toots, the audience erupting into cheers. Many of those clapping are the same people who called for my death when I was sixteen. I shake their hands now and accept their kisses on the cheek, agreeing when they tell me how incredible Fallon is. How lucky I am. Don’t I know it?

I blow a kiss to Fallon as he takes the field a second time, waving to me while he runs backward. I want to watch the second half from the bleachers, but it’s my turn to volunteer at the Helping Hands booth, drumming up support for the canned food drive I’m organizing with my cochair, Vetta.

I’m scooting past a row of underclassmen when gunfire rat-a-tats in the distance.

All the motion in the stadium fades to stillness.

Every head in the audience turns in the same direction. Three miles north. Toward the Burn Line.

The black ring of burned earth that separates Aubrey from the Breach.

Residents of Aubrey were ordered long ago by Cyrus to stay inside the Burn Line, for their own protection. We do not venture to the other side. No one, not even the wiliest troublemakers in our school, is self-destructive enough to attempt it. This close to the Breach, they could be mistaken for a Taker and executed by the Deterrence on sight.

As the Breaches have been declared disaster sites by the federal government, populations who live the closest to those holes in the atmosphere have shifted away, migrating to towns and cities they deem safer, leaving many southeast Kansas towns deserted. Not Aubrey, though. Everyone is either too stubborn to leave or their faith in Cyrus Royse is so great, they seem to believe we’re surrounded by an iron dome, rather than a man-made Burn Line that circles the town.

No one comes in. No one goes out. But we all proceed as normal.

The crowd is silent as a prolonged firefight ensues, parents folding children into their sides in the glow of the Friday night football game. Meanwhile, a sickly yellow hue reaches its fingers into the air above the Burn Line. A fire, perhaps. Bodies burning.

Not everyone is staring into the distance anymore.

Prickles on my skin tell me I’m being observed. Covertly, sure, but the silent judgment is not subtle. It’s always there. They think I can’t feel it.

A very intense part of me doesn’t want to seek Fallon’s comfort. He’ll mope if I don’t let him give it to me, though, so I look over and meet blue eyes that are hunting for mine from the football field, nodding back at him when he mouths, Are you okay?

Yes.

As soon as a full minute has passed without gunfire, the buzzer sounds, a blast of cheers go up and the game resumes, as if nothing happened. Pom-poms wave in the stands, cheerleaders call to the audience through a bullhorn, the Tiger mascot dancing out of rhythm to the delight of the children in the front row.

I duck my head and move through the tunnel leading to the concessions area, waving at Vetta, hustling forward with an apology on my lips. “Sorry I’m late to relieve you. How’d we do on pledges?”

“Good. Really good. People love to get rid of their verging on moldy green beans.”

“Don’t they, though?” I scoot behind the waist-high table and hip bump her out from behind it. “Go watch the rest of the game. I’ve got this.”

She tilts her head at me. “So you’re just going to pretend like your live-in boyfriend didn’t ask you to prom in front of the whole town?”

“Like I always say, Fallon is going to Fallon. And he’s not . . .” I sigh. “Okay, fine. I guess he’s technically my live-in boyfriend. Weird circ—”

“Weird circumstances. I know. We all know. And we hate you for it.” She smiles to let me know she’s at least partially joking. “You’re already shacked up with your man, and mine will only take me on a date if his boys are there, too.”

“Maybe he wants to show you off.” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Hell, I would. A kickboxer and an uncompensated volunteer? You’re a catch.”

“Bah. Enough of that.” She laughs, her smile slowly ebbing from her face. “Did you hear those gunshots? They sounded . . . close.”

“Yeah, I did,” I reply, averting my eyes by scanning the pledge sheet, turning to a fresh page and uncapping the pen. “Sounded like it was near the Burn Line, as usual.”

“Yeah, but it’s been a while since the Deterrence had to intercept anyone trying to cross from the Breach into Aubrey, right? Like . . . at least three, four months?”

“That’s a good thing,” I point out, making it clear where I stand on the issue of Takers. Forever making it clear. “I’m sure the gunfire is nothing to worry about or they’d be issuing a curfew for tonight.”

“On a game night? The horror!”

I raise an eyebrow. “A game night you’re missing, standing here talking to me.”

A collective “ohhh” emanates from the stands. “Fine, twist my arm. I’ll go watch.” She skips backward toward the packed bleachers, nearly running into a couple returning to their seat with two loaded chili dogs. “As if Fallon Willoughby ever loses.”

That statement lingers in the air long after Vetta is absorbed by the stands.

Everyone has gotten their mid-game snack now and used the bathroom. It’s just me, waiting in case the odd spectator happens by but mainly to field the postgame rush. For now, though, I’m alone in the muffled roar behind the stands. In the filtered spotlight.

That’s when I let myself acknowledge the Presence. At least to myself.

The ringing in my ears grows more tense, more suspenseful, my mouth turning dry as a bone. Electricity dances slowly up the length of my arms and wraps around my throat, forcing me to cough to release the pressure. There’s no name for what watches me from the darkness. Or I won’t name it.

I’m not willing to admit which.

But it’s always there in moments like this. In the silent, finally alone moments, it reminds me that I’m never actually alone. It’s watching. Keeping tabs. Entertained by my actions. My very normal actions designed to help me blend in.

The Presence is not buying my serene act for a second. There’s something different about it tonight, though.

A sizzle of warning that drips down my spine and leaves a burn behind.

There’s change in the air.

From BROKEN RIVAL by Tessa Bailey. Copyright © 2026 by Tessa Bailey. Reprinted by permission of Avon Books, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

As a longtime tennis star with three Grand Slam doubles titles to her name, Townsend initially took her on-court outfits "into my own hands" last year: "I’m No. 2 in the world in doubles, and I still don’t have a clothing sponsor,” she said at the 2025 French Open. Instead of signing with an athletic label, Townsend debuted her own tennis attire branded with a "TT" logo.

Fast forward to the 2026 US Open, and her looks told an even bigger story.

"This collection represents where I am personally and professionally...moving towards greatness," Townsend says, referencing the trophy-worthy wardrobe created by her stylist, J. Bolin, and designer Anthony Lattimore. "There is not one person who will have on what I’m wearing, and I’ve always been different like that, even as a child."

After her five-year-old son, Adyn Aubrey Johnson, told her to "set the court on fire and wear red," she started the tournament in a crimson tennis dress. The look featured an intricate fringe waistband and black-and-white linework.

"Movement" was the guiding factor for Townsend's US Open outfits. This prompted Bolin to ask himself, "How do we bring movement to someone who is already doing a lot of moving on the court, without it being distracting?" His answer? Three Fs: fluidity, fashion, and functionality.

With that in mind, Bolin and Lattimore decorated everything from the sleeves on her warm-up bolero to a full Black Panther-inspired coat with theatrical feathers and fringe.

When prepping the looks, Bolin also took note of Townsend's affinity for flames (her signature symbol at last year's US Open). He reimagined the motif in a high-fashion way with splashes of red and orange.

From a functionality standpoint, Bolin ensured the flexible fabrics were as durable as possible before the designer started sewing them down. "It got as [meticulous] as the kind of threading [we used], which had to have the same stretch as the actual fabric," Bolin says.

Sadly, Townsend's US Open outfits took their final bow on Sept. 6, when Aryna Sabalenka won the fourth-round singles match. She went out on top in "The Blackout" look, complete with a quarter-zip tennis dress and an oversized fringe coat.

"I loved every single look, but [the] black [one] was my most dramatic and reminded me of Black Panther," she says. "It was fitting to play Aryna," which she called a "fun fight" between the Panther and the Tiger.

Townsend grew up on the US Open court, becoming the world's top-ranked junior player at 16 years old. So, she's no stranger to the attention that the tournament brings. "I think she goes against the odds of what people say, and she stood the test of people criticizing her size," Bolin says, acknowledging the intense public scrutiny she has faced.

Early on in her tennis career, the United States Tennis Association stopped financing her tournament appearances to "make sufficient progress in slimming down," according to the Wall Street Journal. "When I have people telling me that the...progression of my pro career is incumbent upon losing weight or fitting into a stigma, and having to deal with that on a worldwide stage was very very hard," Townsend said on The Pivot Podcast last year. "It's even been an evolution of finding my fashion and being comfortable in clothes [because] I used clothes to hide."

Setting aside all of the style Grand Slams, “Taylor is a movement," Bolin says. "She's creating a lane for other women of color or people that may have curves, showing them [that] they can, too." Townsend considers herself a "rising phoenix." She adds, "Even though it’s a mythical creature, it represents where I am in life."

"For so long I’ve been told to 'do this, act like her, don’t do this, you’re too much of this, or [you're] not good enough,'" Townsend says. "[My outfits] make me feel amazing—and like I can express myself freely." Now, 14 years into her legendary tennis career, "I’m finally free of the bondage of what others want me to be."

Townsend returns to the US Open doubles semifinals on Sept. 9.

As bestselling author Jodi Picoult considered potential themes for her thirtieth novel, an email arrived. It praised Picoult's famously extensive research process and suggested a topic for her next novel. "You see, I also want to be a voice for those who suffer in silence, mainly those women battling the darker side of postpartum," the letter-writer wrote. "Unfortunately, my reach is limited, as I write to you from a jail cell."

The author of the letter was Solange White, who on August 18 pleaded guilty, but mentally ill, to the third-degree murder of her three-year-old daughter in 2022. White, who told Picoult in her letter that her life had been "hijacked by an evil mix of postpartum hormones, insomnia, and the wrong medical treatment," was sentenced to 16 to 40 years in prison. Weeks later, the highly publicized trial of Lindsay Clancy—who in 2023 fatally strangled her three young children—ended in a mistrial after jurors failed to reach a unanimous verdict.

As Picoult considered White's request for a novel that contained themes of postpartum psychosis, she began to research. Picoult learned that the condition affects one in five hundred women. "PPP can literally affect anyone, regardless of socioeconomic status, educational status, or race," she writes in the author's note for Hollow Bones, out September 15. "As difficult as it is to believe, the motive for a woman who commits altruistic homicide is not malicious. She truly thinks she is protecting her child from evil and that the only way to do this is to end their life. A woman with PPP is not a perpetrator but a victim of her own mind ... The most shocking thing I learned about PPP during my research is that since PPP often presents like anxiety and depression at first, doctors use SSRIs to treat it as they would postpartum depression—however, antidepressants exacerbate PPP, leaving the woman in an even more disturbed state."

In the following excerpt from Hollow Bones, a character named Eloise begins to suffer symptoms of postpartum psychosis following the birth of her daughter, Molly. Picoult notes: "Much of Eloise’s frame of mind as she suffered from PPP came from the hundred-plus pages of interviews I did with [White]."

I am inventing colors. These are hues that have never been recorded, ombrés that waver in front of my eyes and metallics so sharp I can taste them. I start writing down their names. The three-­dimensional ivory twined with white—­I call that “westminster.” The green slide to brown: “crepuscule.” The bubbling orange of the sun as it melts into night: “fervent.” One day, when Molly is older, I will mix these in paints, so that there can be a visual record of them.

Although I am still not sleeping, it is no longer an issue. It was almost as if I had to hit rock bottom before I could hit my stride. As it turns out, I don’t need sleep; my body only had to level up, unlocking new reserves. I now sense when Molly is going to wake to feed seconds before she cries.

I’m buzzing, all the time, my skin conducting electricity. I am suddenly so aware.

I do wonder if it’s just me, or if all women who have babies become so superhumanly attuned. But the one time I get up the nerve to ask someone—­a stranger at the pediatrician’s office with a baby roughly the same age as Molly—­a thought curls like smoke in my mind: We do not speak of this.

I remember once hearing that autism is the brain’s inability to filter out stimuli—­that people on the spectrum experience everything all at once, unable to tune out the extraneous bits. I, too, am being bombarded. Stimuli come at me in tidal waves; it’s all I can do to stay afloat. As a result, something has to give. So while my mind is spinning like a pinwheel, I sometimes forget which buttons to push on my washing machine to do laundry. I can’t remember how to roast a chicken, although I’ve done it a hundred times.

The flip side of this hyperfocus is that, now, I also am aware of everything that can go wrong. What if there is a fire and I can’t get Molly out of our building? I pull the couch away from the window because twice a year or so a bird smacks into the glass, and who knows if the next time it will smash through. I am so scared of tripping when I’m walking down the front steps of the apartment with Molly in my arms that yesterday, I sat on my butt and scooted down. I put away all the glass tesserae of the unfinished mosaic—­choking hazards. There are a million and one ways that I could inadvertently hurt my child. You could, says the smoke in my head. You might.

Five days after Molly is born, Evie asks to visit. Adam is still in California, and I haven’t seen anyone but the pediatrician. I am about to say no—I want to make sure Molly has a little more immunity from disease before I expose her to the world—­but I cannot force the word out. “Eloise?” Evie says, worried. “Don’t move. I’m coming.”

Don’t move. As if I could! Where would I go? I find myself laughing uncontrollably, while Molly’s tiny face peers up at me. And then, the laughter coagulates, and suddenly it’s dripping down my cheeks. Molly starts crying, too. I should walk with her—­motion soothes her—­but what if I drop her? So instead, I rock back and forth as her cries get louder, sharper, spiked.

Evie lets herself in with her key—­she takes care of our apartment when Adam and I go away—­and finds me sitting on the floor with Molly shrieking. She plucks the baby out of my arms. Molly immediately stops wailing.

You see? You are bad at this.

“Why are you sitting on the floor?” she asks, her eyes cutting to the couch, which is still pulled far away from its spot beneath the window.

I am about to say So I would not hurt her when I realize how that will sound. Evie may be my best friend, but she is practical, and if I tell her the truth—­that I’m being watched, that I have so much energy I can see it moving around me like an aura, that I’m afraid of injuring my child—­she will think I’m insane. She will tell Adam, and I’ll get taken away from Molly.

I don’t know how long I sit there in silence, but Evie touches my shoulder. The baby is not in her arms anymore, and I startle. “She’s just over there,” Evie says, and I see Molly on the couch.

(She could roll off.) She can’t roll yet. (It could still happen.)

Evie strokes my hair off my forehead, the way she did the first time I drank at RISD and spent the night projectile vomiting into the toilet. “When was the last time you ate?” she asks.

“She nursed twenty minutes ago . . .”

“I asked when you ate. Never mind. Molly and I are going to whip you up something while you take a nap.” She hugs me. “I’ve got you.”

I do not remember getting into the bedroom, but I lie down dutifully on the bed. I stare at the ceiling. I take deep breaths. But even though I’d trust Evie with my life, or my daughter’s, all I can think about is the distance between me and the baby. Fifteen feet, maybe, with a door between us.

I get up, wrench open the door. Evie is in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. It smells cheesy and rich and my mouth waters. She holds Molly in her free arm, careful to keep her far from the flames.

(Which is more than I can say for you.)

Evie grins. “Look, angel. Your mama’s awake.” She turns to me. “How do you feel?”

“So much better,” I lie.

Evie looks at me gently. “Listen. This is hard.”

I nod. “I know.”

My neck prickles. I do not have to turn to realize that Evie has moved the couch to its original spot beneath the living room window. Dragging it back to the middle of the floor is the first thing I do when she leaves.

Sometimes I look at my baby and calculate the mathematics of her existence: the sweet parabola of her cheek, the constant of her heartbeat, the daily derivative—­her rate of change. The limit I can feel for her, which skates along the axis of infinity.

And sometimes I look at her and think she will be the death of me.

Excerpted from Hollow Bones by Jodi Picoult. Copyright © 2026 by Jodi Picoult. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

While the most astute armchair detectives may not be able to predict where Rose's gripping plots go, her latest move certainly feels inevitable. On September 22, the No. 1 New York Times bestselling author will release her first proper horror collection—which all but makes sense after she's written about crime, survival, and zombie-like outbreaks.

The book, Sometimes I Scare Myself, features three short stories about how ordinary situations can lead to terrifying circumstances. Before the highly anticipated title hits shelves, Rose has shared an exclusive first look with Marie Claire. Below, read Rose's introduction and a preview of her story, "The Nightmare House," about a family moving to a desolate town.

Introduction

Sometimes I scare myself. It starts with a thought. The kind that makes me pause and wonder where it came from, or how it slipped past whatever part of my brain is supposed to keep things normal. It’s the kind of thought that, if someone knew what I was thinking, they’d lock me up and throw away the key. Not because I want to hurt anyone—let’s be clear—but because some ideas feel dangerous simply for existing.

They arrive as what-ifs.

What if you opened the door?

What if you answered the call?

What if you didn’t?

And once the question is there, it doesn’t leave. It makes itself comfortable.

The three horror stories in this collection were born from those thoughts—the ones that refuse to behave. The curiosities that turn corrosive. The split-second choices that rot everything from the inside out. These stories live in that narrow space between impulse and consequence, where something terrible happens simply because someone wondered if it could.

If you find yourself unsettled, good.

If you laugh nervously, even better.

And if, at any point, you think, I wish I hadn’t read that—

Welcome.

You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Sweet dreams,

Jeneva Rose

"The Nightmare House"

Kristin

I didn’t fully register the sign until it was already behind us—a split, weather-scarred plank nailed crookedly to a post that looked one strong wind gust away from surrendering.

Welcome to Tillington

Population: 256

The number two was so faded it was practically a ghost of itself.

“Make that two-sixty,” Patrick said, drumming the steering wheel, pleased with his joke.

I attempted a smile, but it didn’t quite reach my lips. It wasn’t him or anything he’d done. I just felt . . . fragile, like if I bent even a little too far or forced anything, I’d snap. I blamed exhaustion, hormones, the way my body still didn’t feel like it belonged to me.

Outside, frozen fields unspooled in every direction—rolling waves of dead corn and wheat, bowed and brittle under the January sky. Patches of thin forest punctured the land, skeletal branches clawing at the horizon. There was something exposed about it. Nowhere to disappear into or crowds to blur the edges.

Hailey sighed dramatically in the back seat. At fifteen she’d perfected teenage contempt, and her whole body radiated it. Her hood was up and pulled down past her eyes, and her earbuds were in but not actually playing anything since her phone lost service miles back. Every little thing she did now was a quiet punishment directed at her father and me.

“You don’t have to keep reminding me that we’re moving to the middle of nowhere,” she groaned.

I turned slightly in my seat. “We moved because we needed a change.”

It came out sharper than I intended. Everything did these days. I didn’t add the rest—that the city had started to feel too loud, too close, like there were always eyes on us. That every siren made my pulse spike. That even familiar streets had begun to feel unfamiliar to me. My emotions lived just under my skin, waiting for the smallest excuse to break through.

Patrick shot me a look—not reproachful, just tired. We were all tired.

“How ’bout you try and look on the bright side, Hails?” he said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Think of just one thing that might be better here. One positive thought.”

She snorted. “Fine. I’m positive I’ll hate it here.”

Patrick’s hand found my knee and squeezed, our unspoken way of saying everything we didn’t have the energy to voice. We’re doing our best. We’re trying. This is supposed to help.

The road narrowed as we turned off the highway, the pavement rougher now, less maintained. It was the kind of road people only used if they had a reason to. Henry stirred in his car seat, a small whimper slipping out.

My chest tightened automatically, my body responding before my mind could catch up. Twelve weeks postpartum meant no boundaries or warnings. It was just instinct firing whether you wanted it to or not.

“It’s okay,” I murmured more to myself than to him. He quieted down and fell back into a slumber.

The road dipped and rose again, and that’s when I saw them.

Two people stood across from one another at their mailboxes. An older man and a woman, mid-conversation. They were laughing—real laughter, shoulders lifted, mouths wide—until our SUV crested the hill. Their mouths snapped closed, and they turned in unison.

The man was tall and narrow, his coat hanging off him as if it belonged to someone else. He held his mail loosely at his side, fingers slack, like he’d forgotten it was there. The woman stood unnervingly still, her hands folded in front of her, chin tipped down as she watched us approach. There was no curiosity, no smiles. Just . . . observation.

Patrick slowed without meaning to.

“Uh,” Hailey said, leaning forward. “Who are these fucking weirdos?”

“Language,” Patrick said. “They’re . . . the neighbors. Just wave.”

He lifted his hand first. I followed and so did Hailey, reluctantly. All three of us waving as we rolled past.

“They’re not waving back,” Hailey muttered.

“That’s fine,” Patrick said. “Just keep waving.”

I forced my smile to hold, even as something cold settled in my stomach. It was the same feeling I’d been living with for months now—the sense that safety was temporary, conditional. That doors didn’t always stay shut just because you remembered closing them.

That afternoon in the city flashed through my mind uninvited: coming home from a walk, Henry bundled against my chest, our front door standing open like an accusation. The certainty that followed had been immediate and unshakable. Someone had been in our home.

That was why we were here now. Why I’d needed somewhere quieter, somewhere with fewer people. Somewhere I could breathe without checking locks twice, without replaying every sound, every doubt. I’d wanted this. Or at least I thought I did.

The road curved again, the neighbors disappearing from view, and I let my hand fall back into my lap.

“They’re just curious,” Patrick said, glancing at Hailey in the rearview mirror and then at me. “New faces in a town this small. It’s normal. We’ll settle in, wave a few more times, and before you know it, we’ll be borrowing each other’s snowblowers.”

I forced a smile, and I told myself—for the hundredth time—that this was what safety looked like.

Excerpted from Sometimes I Scare Myself by Jeneva Rose. Copyright ©️ 2026. Reprinted with permission of Blackstone Publishing. All rights reserved.

Slo Pitch, based on creator J Stevens' hit web series of the same name, is a mockumentary-style show following the Public Lass Brovaries, an underdog softball team co-founded by Coach Joanne Salo (Jess Salgueiro) and her longtime girlfriend. But when Joanne is dump longtime girlfriend dumps her out-of-the-blue, and her ex transfers to a different team, the coach becomes determined to lead the team to the beer-league championship, whatever it takes.

Stars Karen Knox and Salguiero teased the LGBTQ+ comedy earlier this summer, responding to early hype comparing the show to its predecessor. "I was thrilled to be in any way, shape, or form in the same club," Salgueiro said, per Them. "It’s a little bit different. A few less makeout scenes — there’s a couple."

"I would argue that they’re as hot as the ones in Heated Rivalry," Knox added. "...Less six packs, more sloppy."

Thankfully, viewers won't have to wait much longer to check out the series for themselves. Below, read on for everything to know about Slo Pitch, including how to watch the highly-anticipated series in the U.S.

When does 'Slo Pitch' come out?

Crave has confirmed that Slo Pitch is set to premiere on Friday, September 25, 2026. The show will follow a weekly release schedules, with two episodes coming out each Friday up to the season finale on October 23.

According to the official synopsis, the ten-part series will follow the Brovaries as they "navigate a season filled with rivalries, unexpected romances, sponsorship drama, outrageous fundraising efforts, and plenty of post-game beers, discovering that community and friendship matter just as much as winning."

Where can you watch 'Slo Pitch' in the U.S.?

As of early September, the Canadian series has not given word on when the comedy will become available to stream in the U.S. However, fans are hoping that the comedy will follow in the footsteps of other Crave series like Heated Rivalry, which streams on HBO Max, or Yaga, which is set to premiere on AMC+.

In the meantime, viewers can plan to stream Slo Pitch on Crave, which is also home to underrated comedies like Letterkenny or Shoresy. If you don't have a VPN, you can use one like Nord VPN.

Who is in the cast of 'Slo Pitch'?

The cast of Slo Pitch includes several alumni from Crave's breakout shows. Letterkenny and The Boys alum Jess Salguiero leads the cast as Coach Joanne, with Schitt's Creek's Emily Hampshire playing Leanne ahead of joining Heated Rivalry season 2.

Rounding out the main cast are Karen Knox as Boris, Gwenlyn Cumyn as Ann, Chelsea Muirhead as Sasha, Emma Hunter as Barb, Lane Webber as Lee, Khadijah Roberts-Abdullah as Zari, and Amanda Cordner as Mel. Nadine Bhabha, the Heated Rivalry fan-favorite who played Kip's bestie Elena, is also credited as both a writer and a guest star on the new show.

Slo Pitch will also include a cameo by Ayami Sato, the Japanese softball legend who became the first woman to play in a Canadian men’s professional baseball league in 2024.

Is there a 'Slo Pitch' trailer?

Crave released the Slo Pitch trailer on August 26, offering a first look at the sapphic sports comedy. Despite the recently-dumped Joanne asserting early in the trailer that "love and sports do not mix," the comedy promises a heartwarming, raunchy hangout comedy where the Brovaries balance their beer-league ambitions with several inter-team hookups.

Before Kazakhstani's Elena Rybakina defeated Osaka in the fourth round singles match, the tennis phenom blessed her fans with one last fashion Grand Slam. To finish strong, Osaka and her stylist, Law Roach, teamed up with the Brooklyn, New York-based brand to add an elongated train to a Fall 2026 coat. (Her Who Decides War and Thom Browne outfits featured court-touching hemlines, too.)

The fur-trimmed collar, patchwork color palette, and abstract laundromat-inspired illustrations made this outerwear design her most theatrical look at the 2026 US Open by far. Splashes of moss green, cool blue, and oxblood red (fall's leading color trends on and off the court) promised Osaka left the tournament on a colorful note, too.

The KidSuper style's luscious fur trim wasn't Osaka's only tribute to Iverson and his signature style archives. Not only did her stark white headband spotlight the NBA's logo, it also complemented the star athlete's familiar Nike kit, featuring a cropped tank top, a metallic silver mini skirt, and the same Zoom GP Challenge sneakers that emerged from beneath her Thom Browne trench coat last week.

Setting the extended length aside, the alterations that Osaka and Roach made to the original KidSuper coat weren't too drastic (an unexpected detour from their previous bespoke tennis picks). The two-tone fur and mosaic-style color story remained untouched, as if it arrived in her locker fresh from the runway.

That's not to say they didn't take creative liberties in the styling department. The toile matching set, ivory turtleneck, and beanie-baseball cap hybrid remained in KidSuper's design studios, ready for a post-match street style serve (if Osaka would've ditched her athletic look).

And just like that, Osaka's trophy-worthy style series at the 2026 US Open has come to an end. Sadly, she had more serves up her sleeve: "There's always something," Osaka said in a press conference after the match, referencing the designer looks she didn't get to "show off."

"That's a way that I can have fun and just excite myself also, but honestly, I'm not disappointed," she added. And neither are we. Osaka outdid herself at the 2026 US Open, especially on the fashion front. Luckily for us, the 28-year-old's tennis season isn't over yet. Later this month, she'll return to the 2026 Asian Swing, perhaps with a leftover US Open look or two in her luggage.

The fourth wall, if it was ever even erected, has been bulldozed.

It's the same on Hulu's The Girls, where Khloé Kardashian's friends spend an entire episode drawing on-camera boundaries via sly texts shared across Malibu dinner tables. On The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, another Hulu product, the husbands hustle their DadTok accounts for villa bookings while their more successful other halves negotiate season salaries, all while practically waving at the camera.

Across these three shows, how the sausage gets made isn't hidden any more. It's the content.

It makes sense. Reality TV is 25 years old now. Anyone still watching has wised up to the fact that those blowouts Kim Kardashian had with her sisters over swimming pool-sized bowls of Health Nut salads were almost always scheduled. A few of us were even alive to witness the moment, in 2010, when Kristin Cavallari said goodbye to Brody Jenner on a fake Los Angeles street, the camera pulling back to reveal the whole soundstage. But that was a gag, a wink at the end of six seasons. What's happening now is more structural, like the formula knew it needed a refresh, something to help the Botox metabolize so the natural wrinkles could show.

There's a difference, though, between acknowledging the business and putting the woman who decides what airs in the frame with the people it's happening to.

House of Stassi is the clearest proof. Schroeder, six years after being fired from Vanderpump Rules, has decided she deserves the Kris Jenner treatment. She's recruited family members, friends, and, most importantly, her former Vanderpump alum Katie Maloney, to effectively manage on-screen. She promises them a tax bracket glow-up while chasing relevancy for herself, and she's shameless about it — staging dinner parties she describes on air as team meetings, taking gigs in the name of "Disney synergy," even showing the sizzle reel that sold House of Stassi in the actual premiere of House of Stassi.

When Katie tells Schroeder at brunch that her inner circle is made up of employees with no concept of work-life balance ("If they didn't come out of you, aren't married to you, or aren't on your fucking payroll, they don't get to be in your life"), Schroeder grows positively giddy. "That's the kind of truth-telling we need on reality TV," she gushes to camera. It's one of the few real "reads" uttered all season, and her instinct is to compliment its ratings potential.

That's because Schroeder is producing her life, not living it. The editing knows this, cutting episodes in ways that treat her celebrity complex as a sort of punchline. And to her credit, she's never been precious about looking bad on television; a decade in, she'll hand over the unflattering angle herself. It's funny and cringe, something all good reality shows are, but it starts to wear thin a few episodes in, especially when Schroeder's fame-grab begins to damage the people closest to her. Self-awareness, it turns out, has a sell-by date. It, like everything else, gets old.

Hulu's The Girls, another show whose foundation rests atop the fourth wall rubble, has the same problem. Khloé Kardashian's cast (her word) is made up of women who are her friends, but not necessarily each other's. They're the vehicle through which she can live out her own Sex and the City daydreams. (Khloé is, naturally, a Carrie, narrating every dildo donation party and al fresco brunch.)

What makes The Girls interesting is also what makes it so uncomfortable. Kardashian strips conversations for parts, exposes private texts, and pushes women to compromise their comfort in the name of "honesty" because the almighty camera can apparently tell when you're lying. By cutting confessionals entirely, the audience only views these women through her tailored lens. They never get to narrate their own experience. Take Malika and Khadijah Haqq, her best friends for nearly 20 years, and in the background on her family's shows for just as long. This season, one navigates a painful divorce and the other tries to restart her life on her own terms, yet both stories are filtered through Khloé: their director, their producer, the employer signing their checks. Their bond pre-dates Keeping Up with the Kardashians, but it might not survive The Girls. And if it doesn't, the cameras will capture that too, because everything is content, isn't it?

Then there's The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, which uses the fourth wall the way the other two shows wish they could: sparingly. These women are savvy content creators, but they're also friends with years of history and the shared experience of being raised in a community that doesn't support their current lifestyles. Even when they're throwing insults at dinner parties and removing themselves from group chats, the stakes feel more concrete. The transparency works because these women are still figuring out how to navigate this world instead of engineering it.

That's the real test. You can show an audience the green screen once, but every season spent showing the set-up before the scene or the puppeteering that goes into a lunch sit-down fueled by accusations and Aperol Spritz filters out the viewers who came to watch a life from the ones who came to watch a job. For SLOMW, showing the wires makes the show better. On House of Stassi, the wires are the show, but that won't hold anyone's attention for long. And on The Girls, the wires point to something producers might not want us to be thinking about too carefully: who holds the power, and who gets a say in the depiction of their own life. One is insightful. The other? Boring. And one might put people off the genre altogether.

This trend of taking a sledgehammer to the old ways of translating "real life" on screen can feel like a needed shot of authenticity when done well. But when it's constant, like with House of Stassi and The Girls, it draws attention to a bigger problem. Reality TV is simply a different ballgame now. We used to get our kicks from watching normal people do something they'd regret in pursuit of money and fame. Now, we're watching influencers, professional celebrities, and their glorified assistants with money and fame do regretful things in pursuit of more. At some point, acknowledging the camera's role in all this will stop reading as novel and start to feel, at worst, off-putting, and at best, just plain obvious.

But long before Lalli hosted hit YouTube cooking shows and published bestsellers like Where Cooking Begins and That Sounds So Good, she got her start studying at the French Culinary Institute and working as a line chef and kitchen manager in New York restaurants. There, she honed her craft and fell even more in love with it—but also learned how to hold her own in traditionally hyper-masculine environments.

As Food is a Feeling hits shelves on September 8, Lalli has shared an exclusive excerpt with Marie Claire about her days in the late '90s spent working in a Tribeca kitchen. You can read the chapter, titled "Restaurant Haze," below.

Restaurant work began for me in 1998, at Montrachet, a three-star restaurant in Tribeca run by a tall French chef who seemed proportionally oversized for the short and narrow kitchen. I arrived as a twenty-six-year-old culinary student, a baby whale, ready to inhale every scrap of instruction that came my way. I wasn’t passive: I wanted to contribute, earn approval, and, most of all, I wanted to fit in. I was there for about a year. When I left, it was with a fledgling cook’s swagger and skills that are foundational to the way I prepare food, almost thirty years later.

I was “hired” as an unpaid intern while still in culinary school and went to Montrachet straight from class. After I changed, I’d set up my workstation right on the other side of the swinging kitchen door, between a janky toaster oven and the stainless countertop where the salad cook whisked vinaigrettes in massive metal bowls. It was good that I was small. My body slid into a spot that was barely wide enough for a slim kitchen trashcan, and I could stand comfortably beneath an open shelving unit without having to crouch. I can remember feeling my hip bones press into the lip of the counter as I worked, but I can barely conjure the posh dining room. When I passed through it, I kept my eyes lowered on the red carpet and moved quickly. The kitchen staff were meant to be invisible to the guests.

In addition to helping the cooks with menial prep work—trimming vegetables, mostly—I was tasked with the amuse-bouche. This was a little bite from the chef that went out to each guest after they were seated, which meant I’d have to keep up with service, too. On my first day, Chef gave me a container of gently roasted mini sweet bell peppers and a large metal pan of cold braised rabbit. My job was to debone the rabbit and tear the meat into pieces that would fit into the cavity of each pepper.

The most efficient way to do this was by hand, digging the pieces of rabbit out of the gelatinized braising liquid, then sliding the meat off the tiny bunny bones. Once I had separated the usable bits from the discard, I would coax a pinch of shredded rabbit into the pepper, being careful not to tear the silky, floppy skin. I hadn’t been at it long when the chef swooped in behind me and said, in a searingly derisive tone: Do you know there are oils and bacteria on your hands that you are putting into that entire batch of rabbit, causing it to become contaminated and spoil, and we will have to throw it into the garbage? This was his way of telling me to wear gloves. Enveloped in shame and embarrassment, I knew enough to say, Yes, Chef. Heart pounding, I washed my hands, put on gloves, and continued with my task.

An hour later, dinner service began and orders rolled in. I stood silent and rapt, watching the cooks call back orders and fire their dishes. As though automated, they grabbed skillets and dropped them onto already-lit burners, spooned into their mise en place, squirted oil, lemon juice, and vinegar from squeeze bottles, slid aluminum trays in and out of the eye-level broiler, and monitored multiple types of proteins at once. Heeding internal timers, they bent to extract fish fillets and chicken legs from the blasting oven, then used their heels to swing the door closed behind them. My adrenaline soared.

The dance would slow when it was time to plate. From the opposite side of the counter, the chef would bend forward to scrutinize each dish being presented to him. If all went well, he’d dip a tightly rolled white napkin in a bowl of diluted white vinegar and use that to wipe the plate rim. The food runners lined up behind him, listening for him to call table numbers and positions before gliding out to the dining room with the hot plates.

The loop was closed when the runners returned with empty china, pausing in front of the chef so he could see how much (or how little) had been consumed. From there, dishes and silverware landed noisily at the dishwashing station. The porters transformed them into stacks of clean plates that made their way back to the cooks’ warming shelf. I was electrified. The dining room was pomp, performance, a show. The kitchen was unedited, raw sport, a coordinated mosh pit. It seemed like the most beautiful transaction imaginable. The diners order the food, we cook the food, they eat the food, we wash the dishes, they give us money, they leave, we leave.

I made sure to be on time, take up a minimum of space, heed the chef, help the cooks, and keep up with the amuse. Soon, I was offered an actual staff position: $350 for a six-day week; we worked a double on Fridays and the restaurant was closed on Sundays. No sick days, no vacation. It was a low wage for the overtime hours and the nonexistent benefits. But it was a line position. I’d be an entremetier, preparing the vegetables that went with the fish entrées. I accepted on the spot. The shitty pay and punishing conditions were, unfortunately, a big part of the draw, my chance to rebel against my privileged upbringing and fancy education. I wanted to be tough; I wanted to be a player in the behind-the-scenes ruckus of it, anonymous to the diners but indispensable to the team. There was something so sexy to me about being a woman in this masculine space, where I’d get dirty and sweaty flinging skillets all night. I had no idea what I was doing, but I desperately needed to prove I could do it. To them, and to myself.

At Montrachet, cooking went from a hobby to grueling work that destroyed any desire I had to cook on my days off. Or, day: Sunday. I arrived for my shift in a state of panic, which ebbed and peaked depending on factors out of my control—how many reservations were on the books, when food deliveries arrived, the amount of prep on the to-do list, Chef’s mood.

I reported to the fish cook, Max, a six-foot-tall, effortlessly cool woman with spiky, platinum hair; long, graceful fingers; and several years of kitchen experience. She intimidated me, I needed to please her, I was a little bit in love with her, and I wanted to be her. She was mysterious, humorless, and unflappable. Hot. Most of the time, I assumed she wanted to throttle me, which felt warranted given my naiveté. Fucking something up and wasting product was my main fear; as was falling behind during service. Like being sucked into a tornado, you have time to recognize your demise coming, but not enough to avoid it. No matter what was happening, I actively tried not to anger or annoy Max.

The hierarchy of a French kitchen is based on a battle brigade, and that kitchen was assigned macho at birth. My performance anxiety was coupled with the culture shock of existing in an overwhelmingly masculine environment. I expected to be ogled and I was waiting to be belittled. There was no escaping my femaleness, yet femininity had no role in the group dynamic. The process of shedding my girlhood started in the co-ed changing area when I disrobed alongside four men, then slid into a boxy white chef’s jacket and the polyester checkered pants that were cut for a man’s body. I did this as quickly as possible, staring straight into the wall. Earning respect and being less femme were entwined.

In the kitchen, I wanted to transcend “not bad for a girl.” I refused to be seen as weak, and wouldn’t let my male colleagues hoist heavy pots for me. Eventually they stopped offering. If something was out of reach, I didn’t ask long-limbed Max to get it for me, either. She’d signaled early on that she couldn’t interrupt her flow every time I needed something. Like a stubborn toddler set on doing whatever the big kids could do, I’d climb up on the stainless counters in my socked feet to fetch the tall stockpot, the steamer basket, the giant colander stored on the highest shelves. My war paint was the olive oil I’d rub on my lips when they got chapped from ducking in and out of a 500°F oven all day. I lost weight from the long days of physical labor, and Max showed me how to twist strips of plastic wrap into makeshift belts that we used to keep our pants up.

I kept up my tough-guy masquerade and assimilated to the job. I diligently followed Max’s directions, leaning into the corrections she gave me, and parroted her motions when we were in service. Within a couple of months, I went from my amuse-bouche station to finding my own physical flair on the line. I could juggle multiple skillets at once. I knew when to add water to a pan of sautéed vegetables to create a blast of steam that would finish cooking them through. I liked to hook my first two fingers into the butter at my station, then whip my wrist to launch that knob of dairy into a sauté pan and swirl it to emulsify a sauce. I was good at memorizing the combination of dishes the chef fired, murmuring, You ready? to Max at the exact moment her branzino was cooked through, the two of us turning in unison to plate the next dish.

I wasn’t excellent, but I tried really hard, and I started to feel Max soften toward me. She was always quiet and stoic during rare lulls in service, not engaging in frivolous side talk, while I wiped down our station, refilled our squeeze bottles, checked and triple-checked our backup containers. After especially long nights, she’d sometimes decide to prepare a second family meal for the cooks, and I’d help her throw together ingredients for a quick puttanesca pasta that we’d eat standing up. She told me about her fantasy of opening a super-casual fish restaurant in Northern California, with intentionally uncomfortable wooden benches for seats and a view of the coast. The concept was about as different from Montrachet as I could fathom, and it made me realize her dreams diverged radically from the predictable course we were on. She was the most punk rock, the coolest of the cool girls.

One night after work, Max invited me to get drinks at the bar on the corner, a legendary local spot that was popular with the staff. I was surprised, excited, and nervous about socializing with her, even though we were bonded at the hip for twelve hours a day, six days a week. To cope, I got absolutely shit-faced on anise-flavored Pernod and water. (Don’t ask why that old-guy aperitif was my drink at the time.) I remember realizing with embarrassment that I had never changed out of my kitchen clogs, and when I accidentally knocked over a drink and sent sticky Pernod flying all over the bar, I decided to call it a night.

The next day, I woke up to the most horrific, crushing hangover of my life. Blind with nausea, head like cement blocks grinding together, and on shaky legs, I could barely stand up without gagging. The usual antidote—a bacon-egg-and-cheese with a Coke—was out of the question. I was ill and incapacitated, but I could not call out of work. There was no one to cover my shift. Certainly not on this day, because it was Saturday, and Valentine’s Day, a notorious night to be a line cook. The dining room would be packed with two-tops to squeeze in as many doe-eyed couples as would fit. There was lobster on the prix fixe menu, which meant Max and I were going to get clobbered. If I didn’t show, she’d have to do the two-person job alone, and all of my gains would be blown to bits.

Duty called. I walked into the kitchen late, wearing sunglasses. Max took one look at me, rolled her eyes, and went back to her cutting board. Sympathy was not on the menu. First up: We had to cook and shell about sixty lobsters. I set up opposite Max; she would cook and I would process, in an assembly line. When the first batch of lobsters had met their steamy demise, she plopped them into a long metal pan, slid it across the counter to me, and turned around to do more murder. I was expected to shell as quickly as possible.

I wanted to die, but I could not quit. I twisted the tail of the lobster’s body, releasing a fragrant gust of steaming lobster guts into my face. I immediately dropped to the floor in a crouch, with one hand pressed into the rubber kitchen mat on the floor. This seemed like a logical place to wait for the nausea to pass. When I could stand again, it was back to business.

Are you going to make it? Max asked, irritated.

Me? Oh yeah, I said, I’m good.

That initial lobster established the pattern I was locked into until my crustacean circle of shell was over: liberate the tail, unleash tomalley facial, succumb, stand, proceed. This, dozens of times. When the chef walked in, he found me down on one knee, prayerful and remorseful. I heard him ask, Is she okay? Max replied: Hangover. From the floor, I chimed in: It was Pernod. He let out a groan. Pernod! You were drinking Pernod?? This is the worst hangover you can ever have. He went on and on about it, how bad Pernod hit the next day, as if I didn’t know. When I stood back up he looked me in the eye and said: Once you get on the line and start sweating, you’ll be fine. You’ll sweat it all out. Trust me. I did not believe him, but when I took my place on the hot line, either the sweat cured me, or we were too buried in tickets for me to have body awareness. I made it through the night, earning some sort of battle badge, surviving a rite of passage. I didn’t ditch. I faced the consequences. And I’m pretty sure I never drank Pernod again.

Working while sick was an unspoken part of the job, not only because we weren’t entitled to paid sick days. There were heaps of other injustices that I filed under Stuff That Toughens You Up. The suffering wasn’t saved for me, and in fact, people who had been there longer were vulnerable to far worse.

It was a package deal. I was learning to cook for real, and I was learning what it took to be a cook. I was getting paid, which meant I would stay quiet when our chef threw a molten-hot sizzle tray straight out of the salamander at the cook standing next to me, hitting him in the chest. He would do this when, say, a duck breast was undercooked. Sometimes Chef would just berate him, viciously, for overreducing the demi-glace that went with the sweetbreads. When the chef let loose, the rest of us would stand respectfully silent. I squirmed through mixed feelings of empathy for my coworker and gratitude that I wasn’t in his shoes. On more than one occasion, the captain came into the kitchen to tell the chef that his yelling was audible to the guests in the dining room. When the tantrum was over, we’d swing right back into it like nothing had happened, the kitchen noticeably more quiet afterward.

I had officially romanticized being a professional cook, the beauty and ugliness of the job balancing each other like butter and salt. Sure, the pay was shit, and no, it’s not okay to normalize workplace violence. But (here comes the irrational upside), I got to touch the most beautiful ingredients I’d ever seen—wild black trumpet mushrooms delivered in shallow cardboard boxes littered with pine needles and scraps of wet leaves from where they were foraged. Dayboat sea scallops so fresh the flesh undulated when the chef cut into them, the muscle still alive. I tasted delicacies for the first time: crosnes, Tristar strawberries, sea beans, black truffles, sweetbreads.

Every night I stood elbow-to-elbow with the fish cook on one side and the meat cook on the other, watching and learning how hot a pan had to be to sear tiny Taylor Bay scallops and encase them in lemony brown butter without overcooking them. (I still make a version of this at home with sea scallops and a spicy cumin butter.) I ate chewy nubs of duck breast anchored to crisp fat off the meat cook’s cutting board; we never sent out the end pieces, only the prized slices from the widest part of the breast. My obsessive brain was subdued by being consistent, nailing the cookery, getting my dishes up on time, not running out midservice.

It has taken me this long to detangle the hardness of that work from the nostalgia I feel about everything I learned. I believed that starting out in kitchens should be brutal; we were warned about it in cooking school the way actors are prepped for audition rejections. Surely if I wasn’t worthy of this occupation, I’d be asked to leave. In late-90s logic, being “cut out for it” meant I could (must?) handle the hardness, too. The physically taxing and emotionally draining environment validated my world view that work should be tough. (Throw every eldest daughter trope at me—I will overachieve ’til I drop.) Being a line cook was outrageous and incredible. It was exploitative and thrilling. It was a job that made me both expect and tolerate bad behavior, and unfortunately I internalized that perspective and brought it to every other workplace I entered afterward, in ways that I deeply regret. But, still. I never wanted to be anyplace more.

Montrachet taught me that fear and growth are intertwined. It helped me realize I enjoy being at the bottom of a learning curve. That’s made it easier for me to take risks ever since. I don’t miss the people I worked with; I can’t remember most of their names, except for Max, whom I’ve tried (and failed) to track down many times. I no longer accept that restaurant kitchens should be run like that. How to shell a lobster, though—I still do as I was shown, and have taught my sons to do it that way, too, minus the hangover. I preheat my carbon-steel skillet until it’s matte and near-molten to get the most glorious sear on my scallops. I can flip food in a skillet with my left hand while salt cascades from the fingers of my right, and I know how to get fish fillets to lie flat in the pan from watching Max do it over and over, all night long. It was many years before cooking at home was fun for me again, and I never want that feeling to go away. If I overcook a steak, I don’t throw hot plates. We eat it anyway, of course, with some spicy mayo to camouflage the error.

Montrachet is gone now, as is the bar on the corner (it closed and then reopened as a J.Crew, which was sad). The stinky phone booth where I used to call my husband-to-be after work doesn’t exist, either. Uber drivers don’t argue with me about going over the bridge to Brooklyn, like cabbies sometimes did when I’d splurge on a taxi home. I don’t have a single photograph from that time. In a way, I’m glad, because everything that happened there can stay exactly how I remember it. When I’m on that block in Tribeca now, I have to search to find any familiar landmarks from when I walked out of the restaurant. But if I close my eyes, it rolls like a movie. It’s hard to fathom that young woman was me, diving into a world of cooking that would become her entire life. It wasn’t a dream. The adrenaline that hit me that first night of service was a thunderbolt of pure love that I still feel for the job I chose. I’m grateful the hardness is mostly gone, and not a bit sorry for finding out who I am.

Excerpted from FOOD IS A FEELING: Recipes & Stories, With Love by Carla Lalli. Copyright © 2026 by Carla Lalli. Photographs copyright © 2026 by Lucia Bell-Epstein. Published in the United States by Clarkson Potter/Publishers, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC.

The Riverdale star shared an Instagram post with the caption, "you probably think this song is about you...paying homage to Kate Hudson in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days." In the accompanying photos, Reinhart can be seen wearing a perfect dupe for Hudson's unforgettable How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days butter yellow or lemon silk gown.

Reinhart's stylist, Ib Abdel Nasser, discussed the incredible tribute in an interview with ELLE magazine. Nasser shared that the actress is wearing a '00s Caché replica of the original Carolina Herrera gown, which was created specifically for the film in partnership with costume designer Karen Patch.

Reinhart's dress was accessorized with ZYDO Italy diamond earrings.

Nasser further told the outlet, "Lili will be paying homage to the leading ladies of the Golden Age of rom-coms and romance films throughout the press tour, and we wanted to start off with something super iconic for Brazil since they're some of the most passionate and dedicated fans!"

Fans of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days will likely be envious of Reinhart's ability to recreate a low-key historical moment from rom-com history.

Shop Outfits Inspired by Lili Reinhart

This year's awards show features exciting changes, from a new network hosting the festivities to one of television's biggest icons as a first-time host. The top nominees range from pop culture's buzziest hits to beloved comedies in their final season, to debut shows that became word-of-mouth sensations. Read on for everything you need to know about the 2026 Emmys, including how to tune into the ceremony, which A-listers are set to walk the red carpet, and which must-see TV shows are expected to win big.

Everything to Know About the 78th Primetime Emmy Awards

When are the 2026 Emmys?

The 78th Primetime Emmy Awards will air live on NBC on Monday, September 14 at 8 p.m. ET/5 p.m. PT. This year's ceremony will be held at the Peacock Theater at L.A. Live in downtown L.A.

How can I watch the 2026 Emmys?

Viewers with cable can tune into their local NBC channel or use their cable login to watch from a computer or phone via the CBS website or app.

The Emmys can also be streamed on Peacock. However, the ceremony will only stream live for subscribers to one of Peacock's two premium tiers. The app's standard Premium tier with ads starts at $13/month, while the ad-free Premium Plus tier starts at $20/month. (Since the Emmys are a live event, it will still air with ads for Premium Plus subscribers.)

The full ceremony will be available to stream on demand the following day for subscribers in the U.S. only, including those at the Peacock Select tier (at $9/month). Though Peacock's official website doesn't offer free trials, Prime Video subscribers can get a seven-day free trial by signing up for the Premium Plus plan through Amazon's streamer.

If you neither have cable nor a Peacock Premium subscription, there are still ways to watch the Emmys. Live streaming TV services like YouTube TV, Hulu + Live TV, DIRECTV Stream, Fubo, and Sling TV provide access to NBC (and most offer free trials).

Viewers outside of the U.S. can watch the Emmys live through their regional networks, or catch them on-demand on Peacock. If you don't have a VPN, you can use one like Nord VPN.

How can I watch the 2026 Emmys red carpet?

Fashion fans will have multiple options to follow the Emmys red carpet. E!'s annual coverage will start at 5 p.m. ET/2 p.m. PT, with the hosts and commentators to be announced. Meanwhile, CNN and Variety will co-host red-carpet coverage, available to watch on the CNN website and streaming app for subscribers.

Who is hosting the 2026 Emmys?

Actress, producer, director, activist, and national treasure Mariska Hargitay will host this year's Emmy Awards. The television icon and Emmy winner will make her awards-hosting debut, ahead of her 28th season playing Olivia Benson on Law & Order: SVU.

"I’m at a place in my life where I am excited about doing new things. And if not now, when?" she told Deadline in August. "It’s such an extraordinary opportunity and I am excited about it. I’m excited to see all the people. I’m excited to celebrate people’s work. I guess I don’t really see it as about me. I see it about being part of something so historic."

Who is presenting at the 2026 Emmys?

The Television Academy has revealed two of the iconic shows that will receive tributes at this year's ceremony. Buffy the Vampire Slayer stars Sarah Michelle Gellar and David Boreanaz will celebrate the show's 30th anniversary. Meanwhile, the three original Charlie's Angels—Kate Jackson, Cheryl Ladd, and Jaclyn Smith—will reunite for the 50th anniversary of the TV series that began the franchise.

The rest of the presenters announced so far includes Odessa A'zion, Stephen Amell, Awkwafina, Noah Beck, Jessica Belkin, Scott Caan, Linda Cardellini, Macaulay Culkin, Jamie Lee Curtis, Alan Cumming, Emma D'Arcy, Sally Field, Julia Garner, LL Cool J, Jon Hamm, David Harbour, Woody Harrelson, Hassie Harrison, Marcello Hernández, Paul Anthony Kelly, Peter Krause, Thaddeus LaGrone, Dan Levy, Julianna Margulies, Matthew McConaughey, John Mulaney, Annie Murphy, Brooks Nader, Niecy Nash-Betts, Keke Palmer, Amanda Peet, Amy Poehler, Florence Pugh, Emmy Rossum, Rachel Sennott, SofíaVergara, Shailene Woodley, and Zendaya.

As for special segments, Michael J. Fox is set to grace the stage to receive this year's Bob Hope Humanitarian Award, in honor of his "transformative contributions to Parkinson’s disease research and advocacy," per the Academy.

Who is performing at the 2026 Emmys?

Though the Emmys typically aren't known for musical performances, this year's In Memorium segment may be one of the night's biggest moments. Though it hasn't been confirmed by the Academy, country legend Reba McEntire will reportedly perform a tribute to the late Dolly Parton, per The Hollywood Reporter.

Grammy nominee Noah Kahan has been confirmed to lead the overall segment, with a performance of "Bridge Over Troubled Water."

Who is nominated at the 2026 Emmys?

We can expect some exciting races this year. The Pitt's second season is both the most-recognized show of the year and the top nominee in the drama category, with 25 nominations overall. Other top drama nominees include Pluribus, with 18 nominations, followed by Fallout (9), A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms (9), Slow Horses (9), and The Gilded Age (8).

Meanwhile, the comedy categories are expected to be a showdown between Hacks, which racked up 24 nominations for its final season, and Widow's Bay, the most successful debut series of the year with 19 noms. The rest of the notable comedy nominees include Spider-Noir (11), Shrinking (9), The Bear (8), Margo's Got Money Troubles (8), and Abbott Elementary (7).

In the limited or anthology series category, the second season of Beef leads the pack with 16 noms, followed closely by DTF St. Louis (13), with The Beast in Me (9). Other notable shows include All Her Fault (7), Black Rabbit (7), and Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette (6).

Finally, notable unscripted specials and reality shows include Saturday Night Live (11), The Late Show With Stephen Colbert (9), RuPaul’s Drag Race (9), Jimmy Kimmel Live! (6), The Muppet Show (6), and The Traitors (6).

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Yes, Osaka wore Wimbledon's signature shade, but her second-match style was far from ordinary. Giving the all-white look a New York City edge, the star wore a textured trench coat with ruffle detailing and a sneaker-touching train lined with athlete-approved netting. Since Osaka's stylist, Law Roach, is known for his method dressing work with Zendaya, he added a subtle IYKYK detail: tiny embroidered tennis racquets pinned sporadically atop her torso.

Once it was time to play the Czech tennis player Kateřina Siniaková, Osaka left her outerwear on the sidelines. The 29-year-old scored her second win at the 2026 US Open in a tank top, a pleated mini skirt with a visible netted slip, and light gray Zoom GP Challenge sneakers, all from Nike. To finish her look, Osaka accessorized with another visor from the athletic brand, matching wristbands, and diamond stud earrings in place of pearls.

Thom Browne created the competition-ready coat just for Osaka, but being a sporty fashion fan, I experienced a wave of déjà vu. Two years ago, on the Challengers press tour, Roach dressed Zendaya in a custom Thom Browne gown, featuring an almost identical tennis racquet motif. Beyond the drop-waist bow, the skirt featured strips of white netting that turned into the brand's signature stripes at the bottom.

Back then, Zendaya, who played a tennis player and coach in the Luca Guadagnino film, traded Osaka's headband and Nike sneakers for a bow around her ponytail and white Christian Louboutin pumps, of course.

Given that Zendaya is Roach's longest and most loyal client—and Browne is a designer favorite of his—it’s no surprise her look may have partially inspired the image architect. Now, we just need Z back in the US Open stands, in Challengers character, watching the next Osaka game.

But while Broomfield is no longer playing tennis, her life is still all about the sport. She delves into all of it on the latest episode of "Nice Talk".

To start, Broomfield was a tennis double for Saniyya Sidney, the actor who played Venus Williams, in the 2021 film King Richard.

"It just gave me this first sight into the fact that you don't have to be a professional tennis player to still be in the tennis world," she says. "There's acting. There's modeling. There's all these different things that you can do because of your 20 years' experience as a tennis player. And I joke about it, but I essentially was like, I have a PhD in tennis."

And she's putting it to good use. Aside from becoming a content creator with a tennis bent, staring a foundation to help children get into the sport, and redefining WAG as she supports her pro tennis player partner Frances Tiafoe, Broomfield was able to spot something that was missing in tennis and she decided to fix it herself.

"On court, I feel like the girls have done such an incredible job with diversity and showcasing it," Broomfield says. "You start, obviously, with Althea Gibson, who passed the torch to Serena and Venus [Williams], who passed the torch to Sloane Stephens and Naomi Osaka, who passed the torch to Coco [Gauff], and there is a growing representation of women of color on court, which is absolutely amazing and great."

But, she goes on, "Traveling with Frances, I did notice that there was a discrepancy between women of color on court and women of color off court ... I think at one point—and this is where it was like, I got to do something about this—I had gone to a tennis tournament five days in a row, had not seen one Black woman there."

She took matters into her own hands. After making a TikTok video about the situation and hearing from women that the tickets were too expensive or that they "didn't know our community goes to tennis tournaments," she decided to get butts in seats the only way she could at the time.

"It started off with me using my allotment of tickets that we get through the tournament. I don't even know if that's something you're supposed to do," she admits. "Each player gets like 10 to 15 tickets, so I would ask for, like, two additional tickets and send it to girls through my DMs."

From there, she started being able to work with tournaments directly to "allocate free tickets for women of color to come." Then came brand collaborations, which mean even more tickets. "And then, like, these suite experiences, and I was able to just bring so many women of color to the tournament. It's just grown into something new and fresh, and it's just amazing to see our community in these spaces and having a seat at the table."

Broomfield ended up calling the initiative Ayan's Aces, and she's since expanded into Formula 1 and golf, two other sports where women of color are underrepresented in the crowd.

"I just want to put us into everything," the 29-year-old says. "I'm in a very blessed position that I'm able to work with incredible brands. I'm able to go to incredible events, and I just want to make sure that I'm using my platform to bring other girls with me and foster this community, because the more times that women of color are seen, the more opportunities we'll all get."

For more from Broomfield—including her tennis tournament style and how she got into content creation—check out this week's installment of "Nice Talk." The episode is available everywhere you listen to podcasts.

As summer comes to a close, many of us are squeezing every drop out of the season's remaining days by whisking away to vacation homes. After all, there’s nothing quite like nursing hangovers by the sea, congregating with loved ones over delicious meals, or finishing a book on the sandy deck of a ramshackle beach house.

Complete with refreshing cocktails and breezy outfits, these last languid days can also lead to drama. Of course, no one sets out to spend their last bits of the season submerged under the choppy waters of hidden entanglements and broken hearts, but, well, you can’t always get what you want. For all the board games and late-night antics, summer houses can also occasionally moonlight as pressure cookers. What once was a friend’s quirk is now a grating habit. A sibling’s honking laugh: The alarm clock you never wanted. And things much darker—at least if you’re living in the world of fiction.

A riff on the locked-room trope, some of the most simmering stories have occurred in crumbling villas and musty lake houses, mirroring the deterioration of relationships, mental health, and general decorum among characters. With such a variety of houses to snoop, we’ve curated a list of novels featuring vacation homes perfect for the final hazy days of the season. Whether you’re looking for a swoony coming-of-age story or a twisty thriller, these novels offer thick tension, tricky characters, and villas you wish you could visit. Below, discover some of the best novels set at summer houses to read now.

For her first official match of the tournament, Gauff defeated Turkey's Zeynep Sonmez in a navy tennis dress from New Balance. The sleeveless style from the Boston-based brand boasted some of the 22-year-old's favorite design features, including a scooped neckline, a domed cut-out along her lower back, and a ruffled skirt. Her headband and sweat wristbands came in the same shade of blue; from there, butter yellow sportswear took over.

Unless Gauff was zooming across Arthur Ashe Stadium or showcasing her signature forehand swing, tennis spectators in the stands could barely see her buttery biker shorts.

The peekaboo pop of color didn't just complement the athlete's scrunchie, scalloped socks, and Coco CG2 Sneakers: her circa-2024 shoes that reimagined the high-top style in the celebrity-beloved shade of the summer. Turns out, this was also a tease of her other US Open looks (see the athlete's New Balance kit below).

"This kit captures the energy of the tournament. The silhouette makes me feel confident, and I love how it celebrates the city’s fashion legacy," Gauff said in the press release. "New York is really special to me—this is where I won my first Grand Slam, and coming back here for the US Open is always incredible."

Julie Pike, the senior vice president of global apparel at New Balance, added that these US Open outfits reflect "[Gauff's] vision of femininity, strength and individuality," too. "Inspired by conversations around lace, tailoring, and New York style, the collection balances softness and power through sculpted silhouettes, expressive prints, and modern sport performance," she said.

The anti-lemon trend—supported by Sabrina Carpenter, Selena Gomez, and Gigi Hadid for yet another season—played a part in Gauff's pre-match attire, too. Before the singles game, her yellow long-sleeve shone bright against Sonmez's purple gear.

Not only was the color an on-brand addition to Gauff's tennis archive, but it also confirmed the Gen-Z fashion girl is keeping a close eye on runway trends. While butter yellow has been around since the Spring/Summer 2024 circuit, Dior, Kallmeyer, Tod's, and Chloé revived the iconic color for Fall/Winter 2026. At the same time, navy blue earned endorsements from Proenza Schouler, Celine, Ferragamo, and Tory Burch. But together, the two trends become a trophy-worthy color combination to watch. Which, trust us, we will be doing until the end of the championship on September 13.

Thanks to ambassadors like Coco Gauff, Aryna Sabalenka, and Williams, athletic labels like New Balance, Nike, and Lacoste, respectively, are practically season ticket holders at the US Open. That's not to say New York-based designers aren't taking center stage at Arthur Ashe Stadium, too. Early in this year's tournament, Osaka and her new stylist, Zendaya's image architect Law Roach, shone the US Open spotlight on Who Decides War. For her final match, New York-based brand KidSuper dressed her in a fur-trimmed coat covered in abstract illustrations, her latest tribute to NBA basketball legend Allen Iverson. (More on that below.)

By her last singles match on Sept. 6, Taylor Townsend debuted four of the five custom outfits created by costume designer Anthony Lattimore and stylist J. Bolin for her 11th US Open. First up? A sleeveless tennis dress, featuring a fringe skirt and a statement color combination, which set a high style bar for her (hopeful) winning streak.

Meanwhile, Sabalenka gave her neon orange Nike kit a high-fashion twist: Reuniting with Material Good, the New York brand behind her diamond and emerald jewelry at Wimbledon, she defeated Colombia's Camila Osorio while wearing "over 127 carats of gemstones sourced from around the world."

All this to say? As glamorous as your favorite tennis fans look, shift your focus to the athlete fashion on the court-turned-catwalk. Keep scrolling for Marie Claire's breakdowns of the best match-tested tennis outfits at the 2026 US Open. And don't forget to bookmark this post—it will be updated with even more style Grand Slams until the championship game on Sept. 13.

Naomi Osaka wearing KidSuper

Despite her 2026 US Open style streak reaching an end on Sept. 7, Naomi Osaka went out on top in the coolest of KidSuper coats. Her stylist, Law Roach, stayed true to the original Fall 2026 outerwear design, down to the abstract laundromat-looking illustrations beyond the fur trim. The only alteration? Its extra-long, court-touching train, which covered her custom Nike tennis kit.

Taylor Townsend wearing Anthony Lattimore

Taylor Townsend saved her best look for last at the 2026 US Open. Before her match with Sabalenka, her stylist, J. Bolin, dressed Townsend in her "most dramatic look," which reminded her of Black Panther, she tells Marie Claire. She wore a stretchy zip-up tennis dress underneath a coat covered in glittery feathers.

Serena Williams wearing Nike

For her first (and sadly, final) doubles match at the 2026 US Open, Serena Williams honored her history at the tournament. The sleeves of her nostalgic Nike bomber jacket showcased the years during which she won titles at the US Open.

Naomi Osaka wearing Thom Browne

For Osaka's second match at the 2026 US Open, Roach dressed her in a custom, court-touching trench coat from Thom Browne. Don't miss the itty-bitty tennis racquet pins, which channeled another Thom Browne look—from Zendaya's Challengers press tour.

Taylor Townsend wearing Anthony Lattimore

For HBCU Live at the US Open, an annual series that honors Historically Black Colleges and Universities, Townsend and her stylist, J. Bolin, paid tribute to drumline dressing with a navy blue-and-neon orange sequin set. The color story was inspired by Morgan State University, whose band performed before the match.

Coco Gauff wearing New Balance

The butter yellow color trend became Coco Gauff's good luck charm on Sept. 2. To start her winning streak, the 22-year-old paired a navy blue mini dress with New Balance's $160 Coco CG2 Sneakers in a freshly squeezed pastel shade.

Naomi Osaka wearing custom Who Decides War

On Aug. 31, Osaka became her own fiercest competitor—at least on the fashion front. Following custom tennis co-ords from Swiss designer Germanier and Tokyo artist Hana Yagi at the 2026 French Open and Wimbledon, respectively, she outdid herself in a Who Decides War look.

The asymmetrical hoodie and tulle skirt paid tribute to Iverson's signature sweatsuits. Meanwhile, the newspaper clippings design honored Osaka's journey to her 10th US Open, "representing both the accomplishments earned and the setbacks endured throughout Naomi’s path to this moment."

Naomi Osaka wearing custom Nike

Once it came time to defeat Russia's Anastasia Zakharova, Osaka removed her court-touching hoodie and tulle skirt, revealing a black tank top, a metallic silver mini skirt, and matching accessories, all from Nike. For her good luck charm, the brand ambassador stayed true to her namesake, Nike Gp Challenge 1.5 "Naomi Osaka" sneakers.

Aryna Sabalenka wearing custom Nike and Material Good

One week before the 2026 US Open, Aryna Sabalenka tested the cobalt blue color trend at the Cincinnati Open. By the time the Belarusian athlete returned to Arthur Ashe Stadium, she continued her jewel tone style series in a clementine-colored sports bra, biker shorts, and a semi-sheer dress, courtesy of Nike.

In true Sabalenka style, she couldn't pick up her racquet before frosting herself in a full suite of sparklers. Material Good's statement-making necklace was the star of the show, with 83.20 total carats of bezel-cut sapphire, tourmaline, garnet, and more encrusted into the ribbed gold hardware. She paired it with an identical bracelet, also from Material Good.

Taylor Townsend wearing Anthony Lattimore

Little did fans know, Townsend's US Open style story was just getting started when she defeated Maja Chwalinska of Poland on Aug. 31. Bolin tells Marie Claire that there's a slew of tennis looks waiting in the wings, should she advance to the championship match.

"All of the [inspiration photos] that [Taylor] sent me, everything had some sort of movement," he says. Between the dress's sculptural linework, the beaded fringe, and the supportive stretch, "we have fashion, fluidity, and functionality."

Sloane Stephens

Sloane Stephens won against Denmark's Clara Tauson while wearing a black-and-white take on the drop-waist dress trend. The subtle ruffles along the hem made the feminine silhouette even softer.

Thea Frodin wearing Nike

Back in 2021, Thea Frodin was Serena Williams's stunt and body double in King Richard. Now, after winning the wild card draw, she's making her US Open debut. Perhaps in homage, Frodin tested the same cobalt color trend Williams wore before the tournament and on previous courts.

Venus Williams wearing Lacoste

Yes, Venus Williams lost her first-round singles match on day one of the US Open, but her Lacoste look was a total win. Before unveiling her Wimbledon-worthy tennis whites, she waved to fans in a hybrid windbreaker-poncho with wing-like sleeves. Tennis skirt-like pleats covered the violet, white, and charcoal gray design.

Furious's first installment came to an end on August 31, with a twist ending that has left fans reeling—and begging for more episodes. Thankfully, Hulu has already given word on the acclaimed series' future. Below, read on as we track everything we know about Furious season 2 so far.

Everything We Know About 'Furious' Season 2

Is 'Furious' renewed for season 2?

Yes! Hulu announced that Furious's season 2 renewal on August 27, days before the hit thriller's finale. The news isn't a huge surprise. Though Hulu hasn't released its streaming numbers yet, the series has a near-perfect score on Rotten Tomatoes and universal praise from critics.

"We are so overwhelmed and grateful for the love and support you have shown for our first season," executive producer and star Emmy Rossum said in an Instagram post sharing the renewal. "I can't wait to make more."

When will 'Furious' return for season 2?

Unfortunately, fans may have a bit of a wait until Furious returns to our screens for season 2. On the day of the thriller's renewal, The Hollywood Reporter wrote that the show's team is "still very early in the development process."

As for a possible timeline, Hulu first greenlit Furious back in March 2025. Filming taking place that fall, and season 1 eventually premiered on the streamer in late July 2026. If season 2 follows a similar timeline, new episodes could arrive on Hulu by fall 2027 or winter 2028.

Which cast members will return for 'Furious' season 2?

Hulu has yet to confirm that cast of Furious season 2, but it's guaranteed that Emmy Rossum will return to lead the series as Alice. The rest of the main cast is also likely to return, including Quincy Tyler Bernstine (Nora), Scoot McNairy (Danny), Rob Yang (Frank), Danny McCarthy (Ed), and Jake Lacy (Marshall).

After the events of the season 1 finale, it's unknown whether Lola Petticrew will reprise her role as the serial killer Catherine Grace. However, there is a chance that she could come back for a few episodes, as the avenging devil whispering on Alice's shoulder. (Also, here's hoping we get another scene between Catherine and Steve Way's Alden.)

What will 'Furious' season 2 be about?

The first season of Furious ends with Alice taking the first step from law enforcement to vigilante. By the end of the finale, both Alice and Nora have secured their jobs, with Nora holding evidence that her boss Ed had covered up Jay Easton's Espstein-esque crimes. Though Catherine is in jail, she admits that she's actually doing pretty well. Alice even starts a relationship with Danny.

But the FBI agent is also hiding a big secret: Jay Easton's death wasn't an accident. Alice killed him, smothering him in a rage after he taunted her for the nonconsensual intimate recording made when she was 14. Alice now has access to a list of over 50,000 people who've downloaded the video.

When Alice visits Catherine in prison in the final scene of season 1, Catherine guesses that Alice killed Easton. When the serial killer asks Alice if she liked how it felt, she just smiles, before the screen goes black.

Since the finale dropped, Liz Meriwether has given several interviews that include some hints of the show's possible trajectory. According to the creator, season 2 will likely follow Alice and Nora as they investigate a new grisly case.

"[As an] almost lifelong Law and Order SVU fan, I love the idea of a unit in the FBI that like takes on these cases....but one case over the course of a season," Meriwether told Mashable.

In a joint interview with Variety, Meriwether and Rossum also hinted that Alice will likely be struggling to unpack everything that happened in season 1, even as she starts her new position on Nora's team.

"When your worst fears are confirmed that that tape exists and that 50,000 people have watched your childhood trauma, I think there’s almost a peace at knowing you were right — and now, what do you do about it?" Rossum said. "And she got what she wanted, which was to get into that room and to get onto that squad. But I think that you know she’s on the next mission."

Meriwether added, "I never felt like we should be fully rooting for violence from either character. And I do feel like Alice’s choice to kill Jay in the end is a choice that makes sense for the character and where she is. But I also question if going forward, that choice is something that traps her a little bit."

After partnering with Roach, whom the tennis icon called a "creative force," the new collaborators decided on the brand Who Decides War to "deliver on what my wishes were, but with their interpretation," Osaka told Vogue.

For her women's singles match against Russia's Anastasia Zakharova, Osaka came out swinging on the fashion front. Spotlights inside New York's Arthur Ashe Stadium illuminated every angle of her one-of-one, pre-game design, which paid tribute to the NBA basketball "trailblazer" Allen Iverson: "He was an elite player on the court but also found a way to authentically merge culture, sports, and fashion," she told the publication.

Iverson's gray, baggy sweatsuits became the blueprint for Osaka, Roach, and Who Decides War co-founders, Téla D’Amore and Ev Bravado. Her sleeveless hoodie shared the same oversized silhouette—transformed with a court-touching train. The New York-based brand decorated its French terry fabric with distressed newspaper clippings, "representing both the accomplishments earned and the setbacks endured throughout Naomi’s path to this moment," D’Amore and Bravado shared in the press release.

Who Decides War also drew inspiration from two images of Iverson wearing his signature, red-and-black Sixers headband: "From there, we had roughly 30 hours to figure out the rest."

This year, some of Osaka's most memorable tennis kits boasted a statement-making tulle skirt (see: her outfits at the 2026 French Open and Wimbledon). The 28-year-old brought her bold skirt series to the US Open, too, slipping a white tulle maxi beneath the asymmetrical hoodie.

According to the press release, Osaka's look also referenced the Off-White Fall 2020 collection by Who Decides War's late mentor, Virgil Abloh, which reimagined "Arcteryx windbreakers into explosive gowns."

For the co-founders, "it felt important to nod to a hero of ours whose own path to success was similarly defined by a refusal to move within the expected current."

To accessorize the on-court outfit, Osaka paired the black-and-red headband with matching arm sleeves from Nike and pearl stud earrings. But in true Osaka style, she delivered a costume change before the first serve.

Switching from style setter to tennis phenom, Osaka revealed a black tank top and a metallic silver mini skirt (both by Nike) underneath the Who Decides War design. She completed the black color story with her namesake, Nike GP Challenge 1.5 "Naomi Osaka" sneakers. For her finishing touches, she traded the Iverson-inspired sweatband and arm sleeves for simpler black accessories.

In a look that unforgettable, it's no surprise Osaka won her first 2026 US Open match. She'll return to New York's Billie Jean King National Tennis Center on Sept. 3 at 11 a.m. ET, ready to reclaim her fashion icon crown. Stay tuned to see which designer joins Osaka on tennis's biggest stage next. With Roach by her side, it'll be her most memorable US Open yet.

From its home inside the historic Cherry Lane Theatre, the restaurant made for a very old-New-York setting to talk about the future of women in sports. Marie Claire editor-in-chief Nikki Ogunnaike co-hosted the evening with ESPN’s Malika Andrews, whom she introduced as “my doubles partner.”

The idea behind the night, dubbed “In Her Court,” was simple enough: bring together women whose relationship to sports extends well beyond what happens on the court.

“Sports have this unique and incredible ability to bring people off the sidelines and together in a way that often leads to change,” Ogunnaike told the room. “Because of tennis, we have Billie Jean King and Serena Williams. Which is to say, we’re having conversations about equal pay and representation and maternal health. We have Naomi Osaka and Taylor Townsend. Which is to say we’re having conversations about mental health and the juggle of motherhood and work.”

That’s exactly the kind of influence Power Play was built to gather around. “I mean, what gifts the game has given us,” she continued. “It doesn’t just inspire—it’s paved the way for real progress.”

And while athletes may be the most visible women in sports, they’re far from the only ones shaping it. “There are influencers and WAGS. There are coaches and business executives. Agents and superfans,” Ogunnaike said.

The room reflected that range, with guests including tennis player Taylor Townsend, Olympic fencer Monica Aksamit, New York City Ballet principal Tiler Peck, CNN anchor Abby Phillip, Olivia Ponton, Ayan Broomfield, and Tayshia Adams, alongside entrepreneurs, stylists, creators, and other figures across fashion and sports.

Marie Claire hosted the celebratory event in collaboration with A Diamond Is Forever, Cadillac, and Free People Movement. A Diamond Is Forever also styled guests in natural diamonds for the night.

But for all the celebratory trappings, Ogunnaike was clear that the dinner was meant to do more than mark the beginning of the tournament.

“Yes, we can sip our honey deuces—and please do, eat, drink, and be merry—but really, it’s about creating a space for us to come together, to have important conversations and to get inspired to use our voices to reshape culture,” she said.

Or, put a little more simply: “We’re plotting and planning in here, you all.”

Thanks to the qualifying matches held during Fan Week, the VIP section at New York's Billie Jean King National Tennis Center was buzzing as early as Aug. 24. Warming up the blue carpet for legends like Serena Williams and Naomi Osaka, Kaia Gerber demonstrated that, contrary to Wimbledon, tennis whites aren't required at the US Open. The actor's little black dress and tiger-print Fendi Baguette Bag made her unmissable in the stands.

Fast forward to the halfway point of the tournament, and sporty tennis-inspired styles took the lead. Billie Jean King showcased her signature Adidas sneakers in cobalt blue; Lexi Minetree wore the white trainer trend with a pinstripe two-piece; and Danielle Brooks paired Louis Vuitton's pleated tennis skirt with a matching practice-proof T-shirt.

The US Open isn't just the most high-profile place for tennis's biggest stars to showcase their skills—of the sport and style varieties. Beyond the on-court serves, A-listers inside suites from Ralph Lauren, IHG, Moët & Chandon, and more are showcasing no shortage of summer-to-fall fashion inspiration. Luckily for fans, the style tournament runs until September 13. Ahead, see and shop the best celebrity looks that the 2026 US Open has to offer. And don't forget to bookmark this page, because Marie Claire will be updating it with our favorite outfits all tournament long.

Suni Lee

On Sept. 8, Suni Lee tied a patterned neck scarf around her Wimbledon-ready tennis whites, giving the short-sleeve shirtdress and a sold-out east-west bag by Tommy Hilfiger an effortlessly cool, New York twist.

Latto

Who knew Gucci offered a monogrammed visor? Thankfully, Latto did. The rapper doubled up on double-G designs by pairing her ponytail-looping headpiece with a matching tennis skirt, platform mules, and an itty-bitty bag.

Natalia Bryant

Natalie Bryant isn't ready to store away her butter yellow styles just yet. So, before switching to mustard yellow for fall, the model stacked an asymmetrical Oxford shirt over straight-leg jeans at the US Open.

Becky G

Bringing the celebrity-beloved brand Guizio as her plus-one, Becky G showed off a charcoal gray, pinstripe skirt set that's currently listed for final sale. Hurry, because the under-$400 'fit could disappear before the next US Open match.

Issa Rae

On the tennis tournament's blue carpet, Issa Rae proved the Bermuda shorts trend has lots of fall potential—especially if the knee-length bottoms boast a rich shade of chocolate brown. The Insecure actor French-tucked a white button-down from Tommy Hilfiger into the pleated waistband of her pair.

Rachel Zegler

On Sept. 6, Rachel Zegler styled a navy blue bustier dress from House of CB (the same tea-length style in Jennifer Lopez's summer-to-fall closet) with the heeled flip-flops trend. When her hands weren't in her pockets, the West Side Story star's tennis ball-tinted manicure stole the show.

Ziwe

Opting out of traditional tennis whites, the comedian Ziwe styled a vintage Roberto Cavalli matching set with butter yellow block heels from Staud.

Sophia Bush

One Tree Hill actor Sophia Bush celebrated Open Pride at the US Open. Her belted camel-colored jacket, white pencil skirt, and pointy suede pumps would make for a perfect fall workwear look, too.

Danielle Brooks

Danielle Brooks brought Louis Vuitton to Arthur Ashe Stadium in a crewneck T-shirt and pleated mini skirt from the brand. She accessorized her skirt set with the monogrammed Speedy Trunk, which, thanks to its mini size, complied with the tournament's bag policy.

Martha Stewart

On day three, Martha Stewart joined the US Open party in a quintessentially on-brand outfit: an ivory linen blazer layered over a matching button-down and slim blue jeans.

Alexandra Daddario

Alexandra Daddario made several stops at the US Open in the first week of the tournament. On Sep. 2, she took a more casual approach with her tennis attire, pairing a navy blue quarter-zip with white trousers and high-vamp snakeskin flats from Khaite. For her high-low accessories, the actor sported a New York Knicks baseball cap and a Hermès Birkin bag. (Casual.)

Constance Wu

The stripe trend took over Constance Wu's US Open outfit. She arrived in a black-and-white button-down, a mini skirt, and platform espadrille sandals from Missoni.

Laurie Hernandez

The Olympic gymnast deserves another gold medal for her lovely LWD on day three of the US Open. Judging by the bodice's itty-bitty bow and the linen-looking skirt, there's a chance Laurie Hernandez wore this $140 dress from Reformation.

Billie Jean King

On day three, Billie Jean King delivered the ultimate Grand Slam: She styled her namesake Adidas Sneakers, combining the silhouette of the Sambas and the celebrity-beloved cobalt color trend.

Yara Shahidi

Yara Shahidi delivered a masterclass in styling summer's stripe trend for fall. She wore a cropped sweater and a matching mermaid maxi skirt, courtesy of Monse. Her entire look is still available—if you have over $1,600 to spare.

Lindsay Hubbard

Summer House star Lindsay Hubbard confirmed capri pants season isn't over yet. Staying loyal to summer's trending shades, patterns, and silhouettes, Hubbard paired a peplum top from New York designer Caroline Constas with the matching polka-dotted capris.

Lexi Minetree

The star of Prime Video's Legally Blonde prequel, Elle, didn't wear a single splash of pink at her first US Open match. Instead, Lexi Minetree looked coastal chic in a pinstripe-and-navy-blue skirt set by the Venezuela-based brand Port De Bras. Bonus: Her exact look is not only available but also on sale.

Queen Latifah

For Naomi Osaka's first official 2026 US Open match, Queen Latifah kept it cool in a black tank top, wide-leg trousers, and a pinstripe blazer with three-quarter-length sleeves. Don't miss the statement jewelry: a chunky chain necklace and drop earrings.

Maura Higgins

Maura Higgins set a high style bar for herself at Wimbledon 2026, wearing vintage Chanel with Zendaya-approved, tennis ball-punctured pumps. On day two of the US Open, the Love Island star continued her Chanel streak in a gray raglan tee and a slitted pencil skirt.

For a '50s-inspired twist on tennis-core, she accessorized with white cat-eye sunglasses, a thick headband, peep-toe pumps, and a compact crossbody bag by Chanel. (Peep its racquet-shaped pocket.)

Alexandra Daddario

Cutting it close to the "no white after Labor Day" deadline, for an earlier US Open outing, Daddario paired the perfect little white dress from Reformation with fall-appropriate accessories: a tomato red suede clutch and cool-toned blue loafers.

Tate McRae

For day one of the tournament, Tate McRae made her US Open debut in Adidas knitwear, matching micro shorts, and $100 Stan Smith sneakers. Gucci's monogrammed Horsebit Ristretto Shoulder Bag upgraded her high-low look to four-figure status.

Inde Navarrette

Fellow first-timer Inde Navarette channeled an off-duty athlete. The Obsession star wore a full Adidas outfit, which featured an oversized jacket, side-striped track pants, and white sneakers with forest green laces.

Lindsey Vonn

Olympic alpine skier Lindsey Vonn is still awaiting her ACL surgery, but that didn't stop her from testing 2026's green color trend at the US Open. The turtleneck dress, with its timeless waistline tie, made her one of the most elegant spectators on day one. Meanwhile, Vonn's east-west snakeskin purse by Verified proved animal-print accessories are still winners for fall.

Brandy

Brandy looked like she time-traveled from the '90s to day one of the US Open. "The Boy Is Mine" singer's multicolor skirt set and matching head scarf embodied nostalgia at its most fun.

Grounding the bold look in today's trends, she slipped chunky socks into croc-embossed loafers by Versace. (The unconventional combination has recently found fans in Hailey Bieber, Zoë Kravitz, and Olivia Rodrigo.)

Serena Williams

During Fan Week, Serena Williams cosplayed a casual spectator in a bubblegum pink Nike windbreaker. Much like her cobalt blue look at a pre-US Open pickleball tournament, this shade is having a moment on the street style scene. Expect to see more of it once the tournament is well underway.

Kaia Gerber

Kaia Gerber delivered a Carrie Bradshaw-coded combination at Roger Federer's US Open exhibition match on Aug. 25. Between the LBD by Yana Matkiviski, the animal-print Fendi Baguette, and the peep-toe pumps, you'd think the actor plucked every piece from the illustrious fashion girl's closet.