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When I was 15, I was very confused about my body. I had braces and an uncomfortable smile but a huge pair of JJ boobs had appeared suddenly on my chest. At that point I became jealous of my dog, Molly.

I remember one hot summer's day, my grandma and I were sitting in my garden when Molly came out and, right in front of us, started to hump her favourite teddy bear. Absolutely no care in the world. Molly knew what she wanted, and she got it.

I was so jealous of Molly. Not because I wanted to hump a teddy bear in front of my grandma and all our neighbours – obviously not, the grass stains would never come out. I was jealous of Molly because she had zero shame about wanting to give herself pleasure. Molly felt so comfortable with masturbation, she’d do it for the whole world to see. I felt Molly was rubbing it in my face because, by this time, I’d been wanking secretly for five years.

My first wank happened when I was in primary school. It was inspired by a very important moment in history: Kim Kardashian and Ray J’s sex tape. Yes, the moment that put Kim and her family on track for world domination was also the moment that introduced me to my own…clit domination.

This was my first experience of sex with myself. It made my vagina feel light and airy, like a hot air balloon. Sadly this moment of bliss didn’t last very long; it was followed immediately by shame. Unlike Molly, I was convinced I was doing something wrong. But I kept doing it. I know now that’s because my urges were, and are, normal. But no one had ever told me that.

In sex education at school, we learned about wanking as though it were just for boys. “Boys will be boys,” my science teacher told my class of girls in year 8. “They’ll have urges to touch themselves, it’s totally normal.” For boys, the first wank was a graduation to manhood. A cumming of age.

I was desperate to know where that left me. If wanking was like Yorkie bars and casual sexism – just for boys – then what was this thing that I was doing to myself, all the time? What was the word for that?

Female pleasure has always had a tough time getting the recognition it deserves. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, there was something known as an 'anti-masturbation movement' among doctors. These doctors (all male, of course) believed that masturbation was a heinous act and should be banned. They believed that if women wanked, they would end up with all kinds of illnesses. These included uterine cancer, epilepsy, depression and – my personal favourite – bad posture.

Dr John Harvey Kellogg, the founder of the cereal empire, was one of the leading voices in the anti-masturbation movement. Believing that flavourful foods encouraged masturbation, Dr Kellogg came up with a cereal so bland that it would put people off wanking altogether. And so cornflakes were born.

Let me tell you this: I ate cornflakes all through my teens and it didn't stop me wanking. How do you like that, Dr Kellogg?

When eventually I came to have sex with another person, I was disappointed. It was so bad, I wanted to know who I could sue. I felt like someone who had bought a ticket for Fyre Festival. Real sex seemed like a pound shop version of what I’d been giving myself for years.

Boys my age didn’t know what the clit was or the different ways that women can reach orgasm. The porn from which they’d been learning about sex made them think all they needed to do was stick it in and my vagina would melt – like chucking a garlic baguette in the oven.

I didn’t say any of this at the time because, of course, I still thought this thing I’d been doing with myself was a horrible crime.

My revelation didn’t happen until a decade after my first wank. I was 20 years old when a friend of mine told me she, too, started humping things as a child and went on to wank throughout her teens. I couldn't believe it; in seconds, I was relieved of my dirty secret. It transformed into a normal fact of life.

Once I started talking about wanking, I couldn’t stop. I’d talk to anyone who would listen.

Once I started talking about wanking, I couldn’t stop. I’d talk to anyone who would listen. I soon realised I was one of many women who had been secretly wanking for years. My friends Scarlett Curtis, Alice Skinner and Honey Ross, with whom I cofounded the Pink Protest, all had similar experiences to me. We realised that many young girls don’t have the space to talk about wanking so we decided to start #girlswanktoo. It was simple – all we wanted to do was get girls talking. We hosted an incredible event which was full of young girls opening up and asking questions about their pleasure. Honey said afterwards: “It felt like everything my 14-year-old self needed.”

I am glad to be rid of the shame that surrounded my wanking habits when I was younger, but I feel sad for my teenage self who had to go through it. No one should feel ashamed of wanting to explore their sexuality, alone.

What’s brilliant is that we’re now witnessing a boom in solo sex. Tech retailers are clocking on to how much demand there is for nice, specific vibrators. As Grace Gould, founder of tech retailer SODA, says: “We now have sex tech for every personality.”

Whoever you are, wherever you are, the more you explore yourself, the better your sex will be. So tell everyone you know: #girlswanktoo.

Grace Campbell is a comedian, writer, and cofounder of the Pink Protest. Grace is currently writing her debut Edinburgh show, 'Why I’m Never Going Into Politics'. Follow her @disgracecampbell for information on upcoming shows.

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I've been on antidepressants on and off since I was 13. That's a long time. But you know what? They make my life a million times better. Maybe I'll come off them one day, maybe I won't. But until I come to that decision for myself, you'll have to pry them from my confident and optimistic hands.

There are side-effects to being on antidepressants, of course there are. Over the years I've been on lots of different types of pills, which means I've experienced a wide range. There was the pill that gave me kinaesthesia (a fancy word to say I couldn't sit still for more than, oh, a second); there was the pill that gave me night sweats, increasing my laundry load tenfold; and then there was the pill that gave me weird electrical ticks in my brain every time I was more than a few hours late taking it.

Some of these side-effects have been so disruptive that my GP and I have agreed it would be best to put me on a different antidepressant (the kinaesthesia-inducing pill left me useless at doing literally anything productive besides walking really fast up and down hallways). But no side-effect has been severe enough to make me think about coming off antidepressants altogether. None except the sex thing.

Because, as lots of people on antidepressants will tell you, antidepressants can play havoc with both your libido and your ability to achieve orgasm. And it's really, REALLY annoying.

Luckily for me, the pill I’m on now, duloxetine, an SNRI (serotonin and norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor – most common antidepressants are SSRIs), is far from the worst offender. In the past, on different medication, I've had periods where my libido flatlined and orgasms were about as easy to come by as front row tickets for a Michelle Obama talk. It was rubbish.

From talking to my friends who are also on antidepressants (we’re millennial women, we all are), I know I’m not the only one who's struggled with this. And knowing that is what’s stopped me from going crazy. It’s allowed me to speak to my long-term partner about my issues and help us reach a place where we can figure the situation out together. And we do.

Most of the time.

It's not just me and my friends (in case you're imagining one spectacularly dysfunctional group of women): “[Antidepressants] killed [my libido] so badly that at one point I pondered if I was asexual, despite a healthy sex drive before them,” Amy, a writer, tells me on Twitter.

Victoria DMs me: “I went on sertraline and basically became celibate for a year due to zero interest in sex/not being able to feel ANYTHING at all. I was 21 and had just come out of a longish relationship so I was kind of hoping I'd be able to have 'fun' but those tablets said otherwise.” Faye* drops me an email agreeing. “Once I was on [antidepressants] I felt better in my mind but I had zero desire for sex, or even masturbation.”

“Antidepressants work by affecting the levels of certain chemicals that work in the brain,” explains Dr Kathryn Basford, a GP at Zava, an online doctor. “This helps when it comes to mood, but some of these chemicals also play into the normal sexual cycle. So adjusting the chemical levels can affect levels of desire, the feelings of arousal and even orgasm.”

However, somewhat ironically, depression and anxiety can also cause a low libido – so in some cases, it's tough to know which came first. “Importantly,” she says, “there haven’t been any studies on whether people who don’t have depression and who take antidepressants have the same levels of these side-effects.”

It is for this reason that there are no exact numbers on how many antidepressant takers are affected. Some antidepressants (sertraline, fluoxetine) list female sexual dysfunction as an “uncommon” side-effect; citalopram lists abnormal orgasm as a “common” side-effect. One especially frustrating review paper says that anywhere from “25%–73%” of people (men and women) being treated with SSRIs experience some form of sexual dysfunction.

From conversations I've had though, for those it is affecting, it's affecting them deeply. “My boyfriend and I didn’t have sex for two years,” Faye, who now works in the adult film industry, tells me. “It ended my seven-year relationship. He didn’t feel fulfilled sexually or romantically. I was frustrated that I had no sexual urges and understood this to mean that I was no longer in love with him or sexually attracted to him.”

Rachel, another woman I chat to on Twitter, paints an equally serious picture. “My partner gets upset when I tell him I’m not in the mood. It’s a struggle every day to maintain a physical relationship when you have a mental health issue.”

For those not in relationships, things aren't any simpler. “I find a potential sexual partner can be very keen to get down to that kind of thing and I’m just a bit like 'meh',” Ellie, a blogger who is on the dating scene, tells me. “I’m happy to go with it and have never felt forced but as soon as things start heating up, I’m just not as passionate about it as them because my emotions are numbed.”

So what can be done?

“I didn’t want to stop taking the antidepressants because they were making me feel better mentally but the lack of any sexual urge was making me feel rubbish and abnormal,” says Faye, summing up the unfortunate Catch-22 situation people in this position face. For the first time in a long time, their antidepressants might be helping them feel good again – but the guilt and the frustration they may experience over not feeling sexual could work to undo that.

Unfortunately, there is no magic fix. Dr Basford recommends taking the time out to talk to your doctor about it. “Your GP can check how your mood is currently, and if the medication is working for you. They can also assess if there are any other health problems that might be contributing to your symptoms.”

For some women, just a short time on antidepressants, or a short time on a higher dosage, can be enough – your GP can help you determine whether you're at that point, hopefully leading to the problem solving itself. If you're new to antidepressants, Dr Basford recommends checking back in after a couple of months, as some side-effects only last for a limited time.

The internet is full of not-necessarily-helpful tips. Some recommend stopping medication for a few days before sex but Dr Basford says this could be dangerous as “people can experience withdrawal symptoms”. Splitting up a dosage (ie taking half your dose after sex) would be “unlikely to help” as medication stays in your body for more than a day.

Whatever you decide to do, if it involves your medication, speak to your GP first. Cutting down or coming off medication abruptly can be catastrophic.

Outside of adjusting medication, people have found other ways to deal. “I personally find that getting to know my dates in a sexual way, without having sex, builds my confidence and intensifies the urge to want to sleep with them,” says Ellie. She recommends sexy messages or snaps while you're in the texting stage to “build the sexual tension and excitement”.

“Also,” she says, “feeling confident with your appearance is essential. Wear makeup if you want, wear nice underwear and make yourself feel good to boost your self-esteem before going into things.”

I can attest that these things help in a longer term relationship too. But most importantly, as with most things, it's the communication that is key. You might think an honest chat about how you're not feeling sexy might hinder things, but what's worse are the missed cues, hurt feelings and misunderstandings that could result from staying quiet.

Dr Basford even recommends getting professionals involved. “Talking therapies such as CBT or sex therapy can be very helpful. Couples therapy can also help if this is having an effect on your relationship and to help a partner understand.”

What is and what remains the most important thing though, is that you're happy. And if your medication is helping you achieve a positive state of mind, then that's a hugely important milestone that you need to focus on and feel proud of yourself for reaching. You can figure the other stuff out later.

*Names have been changed

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Most of us can't imagine our bedtime beauty routine without a slathering of hyaluronic acid serum, an exfoliating toner or a luxurious night cream. Skin experts argue that our skin cells regenerate faster while we're sleeping, so the products we choose to apply at this time have the potential to make all the difference. But while skin always takes centre stage in nighttime rituals, hardly any of us give thought to our hair.

Recently, there has been a rise in overnight hair serums, with the sole purpose of hydrating, reducing breakage and reversing the stress we put hair under during the day, for example over-brushing, using heated styling tools and subjecting it to environmental aggressors. But unlike the treatments you're used to, they won't completely drench your pillowcase.

So how important is overnight care for hair? “When we look at the processes in our body, there is a general consensus that at nighttime the body tries to repair itself and do all the maintenance overnight,” said Steven Shiel, L'Oréal UK's director of scientific affairs. “When it comes to hair, it isn’t as clear because hair grows relatively slowly and there aren’t many studies to show that it really grows more overnight than it does in the day, but there is lots of anecdotal evidence,” Steven continued. “If your body is working on its internal mechanisms at this time, then it is likely to focus on the hair, too. In fact, scientists are now starting to use samples of hair to measure people’s body clocks, by looking at how the hair follicle is reacting.”

Lisa Caddy, trichologist at Philip Kingsley Trichological Clinic, elaborates: “While hair is never in 'repair mode' as it is essentially a dead tissue and so doesn't regenerate as skin would, hair cells are still dividing and growing while we sleep.” To protect and strengthen these new cells, Steven suggests looking out for ingredients such as vitamin C, B5 and E, as well as iris root extract in haircare, essentially antioxidants. “These protect the protein matrix and give you long-term protection in hair,” he explained.

If your hair feels parched and damaged thanks to over-styling, harsh weather or continuous colouring, swap sticky masks and oils, which can be uncomfortable to sleep in, for overnight serums. Lighter than most overnight haircare products, they can be applied from root to tip without weighing hair down and don't need to be rinsed out. Available next month, Kérastase's 8H Magic Night Serum, £36, absorbs instantly and boosts nourishment without the greasy feel. Sachajuan's Overnight Hair Repair, £35, softens rough, damaged strands and imparts shine, while Shu Uemura Art of Hair Essence Absolue Overnight Serum, £35.90, minimises frizz and fluffy ends. All three can be applied to wet or dry hair.

If you can't be bothered to add yet another step to your bedtime beauty routine, that's okay. “Nighttime hair products are not entirely necessary,” says Lisa, who explains that many in-shower treatments have the ability to penetrate the hair cuticle within 20-30 minutes of application. “Elasticizer, for example, provides hair with moisture, giving elasticity, bounce and shine,” she continues. R29 also rates Redken All Soft Mega Sheet, £10.33, Daniel Galvin Intensive Conditioning Mask, £38, and Shea Moisture Jamaican Black Castor Oil Treatment Masque, £10.99. “Some people also find that sleeping on a silk pillowcase means hair is far less tangly and messy in the morning versus sleeping on cotton, for example,” adds Lisa. “If hair is therefore less knotty it will take less effort to comb the hair, reducing further breakage.”

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Caitlin Benedict is 29 years old and is just figuring out their gender identity. What does it mean to be non-binary? What does it mean to change your pronoun to “they”? How do you come out to yourself in the first place? They're taking on all the big and often confusing issues that come with questioning your gender identity in your late 20s; and right now, at a time when there's a fair bit of political, social and cultural commentary about the subject, too.

Amrou Al-Kadhi is a writer, filmmaker, drag artist and Caitlin's friend. Conversely, they have been out for a while, and so have been enlisted by Caitlin to help tackle the challenges around identifying neither as completely male nor as completely female when so much of the world is restricted to those two finite options.

That's where their new podcast NB (short for non-binary) comes in. Over eight wonderful short episodes – the first is a commute-friendly 27 minutes long – you can join Caitlin and Amrou on a journey through various conversations about labels, role models, glitter beards and loved ones (and more) as they try to better understand what being non-binary really means.

Where do you start with that, you ask? Episode one is called “Realising” and sees Caitlin and Amrou take a trip down to Brighton to visit the Museum of Transology. Curator E-J Scott talks them through his own experiences beyond the gender binary and about the time his partner had to collect his breasts in two Mason jars after having them removed. They discuss his concerns about the term 'non-binary', and that he finds it “really problematic that they are starting their gender description with a negative” while Caitlin muses on what the queers of the future might think of our generation and the language we use now. It's true that there's no way any one person can untangle the intricate reality of gender identity alone. Which is why the questions Caitlin and Amrou ask each other and their listeners couldn't be more valuable.

Over the course of the series they visit other non-binary friends and gender non-conforming people to share insight and experiences. It's fun, sincere and will leave you wanting to befriend both Caitlin and Amrou in the real world, too (but for now, sure, go find them on Twitter). However there's another layer to this podcast. Beyond Caitlin's quest to find the words to describe what non-binary feels like, there's another destination. Caitlin wants to return home to Australia and come out to their family, and through the podcast we get to take that journey with them.

The NB podcast is available to listen to on BBC Sounds now

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Ellen Page has consistently spoken out against homophobia inside and outside Hollywood: from discussing Mike Pence’s anti-LGBTQ history to calling out Chris Pratt for attending Zoe Church. Now, in an interview with Porter magazine, she’s sharing how people in the film industry pressured her not to come out.

Page explained that, after she filmed Juno, which was released in 2007, rumours about her sexuality began to be covered in the tabloids. “I was 20, I had just fallen in love for the first time with a woman, and I was still navigating my own stuff, while people were writing articles headlined: ‘Ellen Page’s sexuality sweepstake,’” she said. “There was a tabloid magazine that I saw at every checkout, in every gas station, with a picture of me on the cover, and the question: ‘Is Ellen Page gay?’” She added that the media coverage was “detrimental to my mental health.”

Juno catapulted Page to a new level of fame — and people in Hollywood began warning her not to come out. She said, “I was distinctly told, by people in the industry, when I started to become known: ‘People cannot know you’re gay.’ And I was pressured – forced, in many cases – to always wear dresses and heels for events and photo shoots.” She added, “As if lesbians don’t wear dresses and heels. But I will never let anyone put me in anything I feel uncomfortable in ever again.”

At the time, Page felt like she’d never be able to come out. “I remember being in my early 20s and really believing it was impossible for me to come out,” she said. “But, over time, with more representation, hearts and minds have been changed. It doesn’t happen quickly enough and it hasn’t happened enough, particularly for the most marginalised in the community. But things have got better.”

Today, she said, the prospect of coming out in Hollywood feels “completely different.” She herself came out in 2014, in a memorable speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference. In the Porter interview, she explained that she came out in part because “I felt, and I feel, a sense of responsibility. I want to be able to help in any way I can, and I want to make queer content.”

Page has been doing just that ever since, starring alongside Julianne Moore in 2015’s Freeheld, creating the docu-series Gaycation, and appearing in the upcoming Netflix limited series Tales of the City, which she noted “offers a lot of representation.” The cast and crew includes trans and nonbinary folks, including actress Daniela Vega and director Silas Howard. However, she added, “there’s still so little out there” when it comes to depictions of LGBTQ people in the media.

In the Porter interview, Page also spoke about her love for her wife, dancer and choreographer Emma Portner. The two got married in early 2018. “I’m so in love,” Page said. “I love being married. I’ll be walking my dog, and I start talking to people, and I end up telling them about my wife and making them look at our Instagram. I’m that person.”

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What does it take to become one of the biggest stars in the world? For some, it’s ruthless management, exposed midriffs, and a lifetime of dance rehearsals. For Lady Gaga, it’s a push for artistic expression wrapped in the catchiest hooks and most raw acting roles. With every iteration of that expression — be it wearing a meat dress or a becoming a vampire on TV — comes a new and creative beauty look that must meet Gaga’s standard of creativity.

That’s where Lady Gaga’s longtime makeup artist Sarah Tanno comes in. Whether churning out fresh, unexpected looks for Gaga’s pop-star persona or the TV and film characters she plays, the beauty pro, who won an Emmy for her makeup work on American Horror Story and a Hollywood Makeup Artist and Hair Stylist Guild Award for A Star Is Born, rises to the occasion every time.

Ahead, the global artistry ambassador for Marc Jacobs Beauty shares how she does it, what it’s been like prepping Gaga for this week's Oscars, and how hustling through the hard knocks can get you everywhere. The following interview was told to Erika Stalder and edited for length and clarity.

Finding Gaga

I had moved to New York from LA after a breakup. I was almost broke, trying to make it all happen, shooting editorials and struggling. I didn’t want to ever do celebrities — I was a fashion makeup artist. I remember watching the VMAs in 2009 when she performed “Paparazzi” and Kabuki, the makeup artist, did her makeup. She was hanging from the rafters, dripping in blood, and I was like, Oh, that girl is badass. If I could work with anyone, it would be her.

The next day I was back at the MAC counter where I was working and we were all talking about it, and I said, “I know I said I didn’t want to work with celebrities, but I would die to work with her.” And it was so crazy — literally 20 minutes later I had a Facebook message from her manager at the time, who I knew from having worked with Fergie on a couple of things. She asked if I would be interested in working with Lady Gaga and if I wanted to come meet her in Washington to do her makeup for the last couple shows of the Fame Ball tour.

It was crazy because she wanted me to do hair, too. I went to hair school and I can do regular hair, but this is Lady Gaga. I was not trained or ready to do the level of hair that Gaga needed. I totally faked it. Billy B., who was working with her for everything at that time, came in and wanted his assistant to take over the tour and do Gaga with the look he created. Gaga didn’t want to lose me completely, so she asked me to come on board and do her dancers. I was really bummed out at the time, but I took the hit.

Sticking It Out

People are like, “Oh, you’ve worked for Gaga for 10 years,” but I haven’t really. I’ve been part of her team for 10 years, doing her dancers on tour, but people don’t understand that a lot of other people did her makeup at that time. I’ve had a rough time getting to where I am. It did not come easily to me and it took years and years of struggling and failing, but I loved it and lived and breathed it because there was no other option for me. I want people to know that if it takes 10 years to get a job, that’s normal. It took that long for me, too.

For five years, I just did my homework and studied and watched what she liked, what she didn’t like, and what worked on her face — and that helped me to develop my style, and it taught me a lot about makeup and what I love. I had to do a lot of homework to keep up with her because her references are so incredible and she’s such an artist. It wasn’t an easy process, but I earned her trust, and I’ve been full time with her since 2014.

Loyalty Pays Off

I’m a loyal person, but I have to say she is just the most loyal person — she is someone who really believes in her team and fights for her team and opens so many doors. She tried for a month to [arrange for] me to do the makeup for her Vogue cover. A lot of artists won’t do that for their team. And because of that, I just shot my second Vogue cover with Hailey Bieber. I would never be put in those life-changing positions if she didn’t open those doors. That says a lot about her loyalty and how much she believes in the people around her. Vogue is every makeup artist’s dream.

She does so much for us and gives back so much to her team. We just won the Make-Up and Hair Stylists Guild Award for Best Contemporary Makeup for A Star is Born. She was so proud — she sent me the most beautiful card and beautiful flowers that were in the shape of a lipstick. She’s always so supportive.

Mining References

With references, Gaga’s so good at that kind of thing, and we use them as a team to communicate. She would reference her good friend Daphne Guinness or Alexander McQueen’s older runway shows and that whole group of friends she was close to, Isabella Blow and Philip Treacy — and that would give me an idea of the feeling of the makeup she wanted, not necessarily something so literal but the intention and the feelings of the looks that we’re about to create together. Those became some of my favourite things to reference.

We all love Daphne’s style, and she was one of the influences in Gaga’s American Horror Story character The Countess. Originally [the show creators] wanted just one classic look for Gaga the whole season, this beautiful old-Hollywood makeup, and we just weren't down with that, so I had to show them [another way]. The first day going into that character, I bleached out the brows and did a light gloss on her eyes, which made her kind of creepy, and they loved it. I came up with 68 original makeup looks for the show. Because she was a vampire and had to go through all these different time periods, there was a lot of research and they shot out of order and it was sometimes three or four looks a day. It was a hard show, but so rewarding — I still can’t even believe that I have an Emmy [for the work].

Gaga’s Test Kitchen

I really do a lot of research and homework even if it’s doing a more mild face, whether it’s watching old movies or looking through books — that’s what helps me get into the vibe of whatever I’m doing. I have an incredible book collection and don’t like to really look online as much.

When I plan for the bigger events, I show up to fittings — most makeup artists are like, what? You have to go to a fitting? I’m like, Absolutely. I want to know what I’m walking in on, I want to be prepared. It’s extra work, but it makes you feel so much better to be part of a moment of choosing what that look is going to be. Then I go back to my creative space and figure it out.

I try so many different things and really test on myself. I have to see the texture, how the makeup moves and how it feels, so a face chart doesn’t necessarily do it for me. I need to do it on a face. So sometimes I’ll call one of my dancer friends over and they’ll sit with me because they have so much fun doing it. Sometimes I nail it right away, sometimes it takes several tries.

Storytelling With Every Look

With the number of looks we create, it’s a fast pace, but I live for it. It always starts with her. It’s thinking about, what is she wearing? What’s the story we’re telling? What’s the intention? What is the hair? What is the makeup? Is the intention to blow people away? Is it to be more pulled back? Then I go back and really think about it.

Usually I’m working closely with Frederic Aspiras [Gaga’s hair and wig art designer]. He and I have worked together for so long, we have a system. We see what she’s wearing; if it’s a big red carpet or something, we’ll talk about things that she might have said about how she wants to feel. Then we’ll create in our own spaces and we’ll meet up and talk about it again before we present anything to her. Once we get her feedback from what we’ve done, we elevate from there.

When Less Is More

Sometimes it’s about not overdoing it, and the Grammys look was one of the easiest red carpets I’ve ever done. I always want to do more for the Grammys, but she knew exactly what she wanted the moment she put that dress on. We all wanted her to really feel Gaga but also have a little gritty rock n' roll, like she slept in her makeup and wore it the next day.

First I used the Marc Jacobs Beauty Blacquer Highliner Gel Eye Crayon and went really heavy on the outer corners of her eye, and took a brush and just messed it all up. Then I went over it again with Marc Jacobs Beauty Magic Marc’er in Blaqcuer to make it look almost wet and left the eye pretty much opened. I added a little bit of the black colour in the Marc Jacobs Beauty Eye-Conic Steel(etto) Palette to make it look even smokier and grittier, and that was it. I didn’t use any mascara or false lashes. I left skin really clean with the Marc Jacobs Beauty Shameless Youthful-Look 24 Hour Foundation SPF 25 with a little bit of Marc Jacobs Beauty O!Mega Bronze and Marc Jacobs Beauty Enamored Hi Shine Gloss Lip Lacquer in Cream & Sugar just so her lips looked really healthy — no lip liner, balm or anything. It’s the least amount of products I’ve ever used on a red carpet — just really simple, but very Gaga.

The Oscars Strategy

I’ll start my makeup tests for the Oscars the Thursday before, and I’ll continue to test until Sunday. I’ll test the look on myself, then test it on her when she goes to rehearsal, just so I can see it in a different light and on stage —then I’ll know exactly what I need to tweak so I can do the best version for her on Sunday.

This is something she’s been looking forward to her whole life, so I want the look to be timeless and I want her to feel like the most beautiful person in the world. I want to create something that she’s not only going to love on Sunday, but something that she can look back on in photos 20 years from now and still love just as much. With big moments like this, it all has to be true to being Gaga and true to the moment.

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It was a regular Friday night and while my friends descended to our favourite grotty local for a pint or their living room sofas to binge Dirty John, I found myself poised in lotus position, about to embark on a tantric orgasmic workshop.

When my mate invited me to Tara yoga centre’s orgasmic journey workshop, curiosity got the better of me. What was tantra? Would the workshop be like a Wild Wild Country group orgy? Would I be sat beside the woman who can orgasm for 18 hours just by hugging her partner? Would it be as intense as watching ADAM trying to hit E flat before they hit the big O? So many questions, so much intrigue – there was only one way to find out.

Tara's three-part orgasmic journey workshop series focuses on taking participants on “a journey towards more pleasure, fulfilment, self-awareness and happiness”. Their three-hour “Heaven in the Bedroom” session, held in separate classes for women and men, specialised in giving participants a better understanding of their anatomy and awakening their full orgasmic power. As a sexual person who loves mixing things up in the bedroom, while I can’t say I’d ever adopted a spiritual approach like tantra before, I’m always up for trying something new.

Our workshop started with our mellifluous teachers, Marilena and Kate guiding us through a meditation before getting down to more tantralising things. Marilena and Kate began debunking the myth that tantra is just about sex; tantra is a spiritual practice which aims to provide us with a network of tools which, once put into practice, can lead to liberation (bear with me here). Each set of tools harnesses different energies to access higher consciousnesses. Tantra’s about being more present in our mind, soul and body – finding empowerment in vulnerability, silencing our inner critic and embracing all the different elements which make us whole.

Tantra breaks down the barriers between sex and the beautiful and sublime – often perceived as mutually exclusive in Western thought. Marilena acknowledged how our society annexes eroticism as “a kinky thing done behind closed doors, that everyone’s interested in but no one really wants to talk about openly” – which makes the hypocrisy of an estimated $97 billion dollar porn industry even more obscene.

Our teachers touched on the difference between having sex and making love. We’ve all been there – having soulless sex, eyes boring into the cracks in the wall as you wonder if your room would look better with a cheese plant. At the other end of the spectrum, 'making love' has become synonymous with James Blunt crooning “You’re Beautiful” or Eyal Booker having a DMC with just about anyone. Tantra aims to bridge that gap, creating more meaningful sex while keeping the passion alive.

One concept I struggled with was how the yoni (female genitalia) is sacred and worshipped in tantra. We were told we could make ours a shrine if we liked – personally, I couldn’t see this happening.

One concept I struggled with was how the yoni (female genitalia) is sacred and worshipped in tantra. We were told we could make ours a shrine if we liked – personally, I couldn’t see this happening. Asked when was the last time we admired ours in the mirror, the ensuing silence spoke volumes. So what better way to reconnect with our yonis than being shown artistic representations of them on a massive screen?

We were shown successive watercolour paintings of promiscuously plump tulips and suggestively sumptuous fruits, and I could appreciate these were beautiful. Then suddenly – bam! – there’s a giant image of a wet yoni on the screen, accompanied by two juicy pomegranates. We were asked how this made us feel; answers ranged from uncomfortable and awkward to empowered, feminine and beautiful. Me? Conflicted (it ain’t no tulip). Marilena summed it up perfectly: “It’s daunting for the lights to be switched on in an area of our lives they’re normally switched off.”

Our teachers recognised this awkwardness stems back to sex education – so are you ready to go back to school? We all know about the G-spot and clitoral orgasm, but did you know we have an A, P and U-spot, each producing a different sensation when stimulated? Asking friends if they’d be able to tell the difference, they answered with a resounding “no”, which came as no surprise. My sex education was pretty much: If you have sex, you will get pregnant and die. The pleasurable element was completely ignored. When our teachers spoke about being penetrated by the cervix, my eyes bulged in alarm. To clear up any confusion, the cervix can’t be penetrated by a penis, but can be stimulated by touch or a well-endowed partner tapping it – although this is usually painful at first.

After spotlighting the (many) gaps in our knowledge, we ended the first half of the workshop with an exercise, lying down and contracting our pelvic floor muscles for approximately 7 minutes. Once this was over, we were asked how we felt. One woman spoke breathily, as if her every syllable was drifting away on clouds; she said if the meditation had gone on any longer, she would have reached climax.

Now seemed like a good time for a break.

In the second half, things got even more experimental. Our teachers addressed how central transfiguration is to tantra, reiterating the importance of regarding ourselves and our partners as gods and goddesses in the bedroom; harnessing our sexual energy to embody higher states of being. After walking around the room, grounding our feet to the earth, we had to stop and face the woman closest to us, maintaining her gaze for five minutes as we regarded her as a goddess, appreciating her beauty and generating thoughts of loving kindness. We repeated this extremely awks situation not once, but four times. Initially the intimacy was too much to bear; afterwards, as we broke eye contact and embraced each other, relief washed over me. As women we have a tendency to criticise and compare ourselves with other women, which creates separation; once we suspend judgement, we begin feeling more connected to one another. The more we practised this, the easier it became.

Next, we lay down on a mat, placing one hand on our heart and one hand above our yoni to feel the connection between the two. We were then instructed to slowly and tenderly caress our bodies with our fingertips. The class ended with us forming a large circle on the floor and embracing one another. Having been pushed completely out of my comfort zone, into unavoidably awkward scenarios where I couldn't be sure how I felt, afterwards I felt reenergised and calm, as if my defences had been dropped.

While I struggled with tantra’s elevated terminology of gods, goddesses and sacred yonis, many other elements resonated. Tantra encourages women to embrace and feel fully empowered in our bodies; considering we’re accustomed to policing them on a daily basis, this is no easy feat. By breaking down these barriers, I began feeling compassion for the other women in the workshop, which manifested in a greater acceptance of myself. I loved the idea of becoming more engaged with my body and receptive to all the different nuances of sensations, without getting swept away in the moment. Most importantly, I now know I have an A, P and U-spot.

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Bradley Cooper sits on a bus in a terrible tight leather jacket, bootcut frayed jeans and aviator shades. It’s an outfit of tough-guy cool circa 1998, though we appear to be somewhere around 2014.

“Jean-Luc, my mentor,” Bradley drawls, “the guy who gave me a chance as a chef, said to me it was God who created oysters and apples. And you can’t improve recipes like that. But it is our job to try.”

A bluesy riff kicks in, Bradley gets off the bus – he is in New Orleans. We learn in voiceover that he was a once-great chef whose demons – wild temper, booze, drugs, women, le gueuleton! – chased him out of Paris. Then, it seems, he fled to America’s most debauched city to get clean.

There he has set himself the penance of shucking a million oysters at a low-key looking restaurant. I’m not sure shucking a million oysters is an internationally recognised act of penance but we are where we are. Bradley keeps a tally in his notebook – counting off the oysters like a prisoner marking time on a cell wall. “One million,” he declares aloud with triumph and eats the final one himself: then he walks out of the restaurant, saying nothing to no-one. He’s still a bad-boy chef – from nose to tail.

This is Burnt.

The film is a BC vehicle that passed through cinemas with barely a flambé of attention and lukewarm-to-outright bad reviews in 2015 (though it made a modest profit at the box office). In the last few years, however, a bunch of Burntheads have sprung up – well, enough of us to make a significant number of covers at a restaurant – all mildly obsessed with this brilliantly terrible film. Mention Burnt to the right person and their eyes will flame with delight, recalling its cosmic badness. It’s a bit of insider knowledge that not everyone has glommed on to yet, like knowing about a great little restaurant off the beaten track.

Right now we’re at the end of awards season and Bradley Cooper has been taking his somewhat leathery-looking face around the red carpets. The man himself cuts a more disconsolate figure of late as it becomes clear that his critical and commercial smash hit revival of A Star Is Born may not pick up all the Oscars he clearly intended it to – and seemed likely to a couple of months back. Cooper declared himself embarrassed not to have secured a Best Director nomination, “I felt I hadn’t done my job,” he said.

What’s been clear throughout the process is that Bradley Cooper is a very serious performer indeed – and this self-seriousness can be seen starting to simmer in Burnt. Though Cooper only acted in the earlier film, not the writer-director-producer-singer-lighting-and-costume-designer of the latter, to me Burnt is where you see the A Star is Born version of Cooper crystallise. He plays a damaged but brilliant man; there’s a ingenue-protegee-love interest who may one day surpass him; it has an impressive ensemble cast and film pedigree that may have led all involved to think they were making important, award-winning fare. But while the world thinks A Star is Born is a great film (except the Academy, it seems), no one will confuse Burnt with a good film, despite lofty intentions.

It’s also amusing to note that fans who take to Spotify to listen to the A Star is Born soundtrack will notice on the Bradley Cooper artist page, another track by the man himself – “Ode to a Sous-Vide” from the Burnt soundtrack: the bizarro vocal performance is the centrepiece of the emotional crux of the film – it is part of both the best and worst scene in the movie, and arguably the most unintentionally funny moment in 21st century cinema (we’ll return to this).

But all this is mere amuse-bouche, aperitif and starter to the mains now sitting warmed at the pass: that is, Burnt is fucking terrible. Spectacularly so.

I’ve never been one for so-bad-it’s-good films – life seems too short to actually watch The Room. Some friends, however, had been alerting me to Burnt’s inverse greatness. One night, unable to get to sleep, I decided to watch a film: I was too tired to look at something, you know, good, so I decided it was time to believe the hype and taste Burnt.

Minutes in and I was enjoying the hell out of it – but not really in the way the filmmakers may have intended. To borrow a line from Anthony Lane’s famous review of Indecent Proposal: “As I watched these early scenes, I began to tremble with anticipation: this could be the great bad film of our time …”

Whereas The Room was made by an amateur with little understanding of the mechanics of cinema, creating in the end almost outsider art, Burnt has accomplished, safe pairs of hands all over it. The director, John Wells, has worked on the likes of ER and The West Wing, as well as directing August: Osage County and Love and Mercy. Stephen Knight, the writer, is the brains behind Peaky Blinders, Eastern Promises, Dirty Pretty Things and Locke, among others. The cast is stuffed too – alongside Cooper are Sienna Miller, Daniel Bruhl, Emma Thompson, Lily James, Omar Sy, Uma Thurman, Matthew Rhys, Ricardo Scamarcio and Alicia Vikander.

But, despite the veneer of professionalism, the whole thing unravels.

Take the basic premise: we’re supposed to root for our hero, the burnt-out chef seeking redemption. But from the very first scene, when he stomps out of the oyster shucking business, all the audience thinks is, this guy is a dickhead and I want him to fail (this does not change).

The story rumbles on: Bradley Cooper plays Adam Jones, a troubled chef who has won two Michelin Stars, fallen on hard times but now needs to fight and cook his way back to glory.

Jones comes to London with the aim of reconnecting with friends from his debauched Paris days – everyone seems to have helpfully relocated to the UK – start cooking again and win his third Star. He persuades an old friend who manages the underperforming restaurant at the Langham Hotel, to let him become head chef and “save” his failing enterprise. He acquires a motorbike along the way, then assembles other former colleagues and discovers fresh cooking talent and brings them to his new kitchen. There are fights and drama and plot twists and failures. Naturally there is a side salad of romance. Eventually, Adam learns to be a better chef, a better man, fuck it – a better manager of people in a 21st century working environment. In the end – spoiler alert – he earns that Michelin Star. The film concludes with Jones sitting down to the traditional pre-shift “family meal” with the staff of his restaurant – his true family. Music swells. The end. Compliments to the chef.

Of course that doesn’t do justice to the tableau of terribleness on offer, so in the name of brevity, I’ll offer a brief rundown of some choice cuts – a tasting menu of Burnt, if you will.

The film takes itself terrifically seriously and it abounds with portentous soliloquies about the importance of food – Adam lectures Helene, his chefing protégé turned love interest played by Sienna Miller, about “peasant food” via the means of a Whopper at the Leicester Square Burger King. Later he tells her that she and he deal “in culinary orgasms”, and that he wants to “make food that makes people stop eating”, leaving diners “sick with longing”. There are also lots of irritating foodie affectations, like how people plainly compliment a meal with the words, “it’s good” and a knowing nod. And Adam Jones has a bizarre running feud with the concept of sous-vide cooking, which he describes as a food condom – despite such pre-prep methods of cooking being a staple of modern kitchens.

It is entirely credulous of the extremely dated notion of the rock and roll chef, years after the '90s hijinks of Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential and the petulance of Marco Pierre White and Gordon Ramsay. Throughout we are continually told that Jones is brilliant and charismatic and that everyone is in love with him – despite there being no on-the-plate evidence to prove the thesis.

Of course Sienna Miller’s Helene falls for AJ. How could she not swoon in front of someone so passionate about escargot, even if he is borderline abusive? To get Helene to work for him, AJ says he will double her salary – as a single mum this is an offer she can’t refuse. Later, after Cooper makes her apologise to a badly cooked turbot and a blazing row ensues, prompting Miller to get out of the kitchen, she is only persuaded to come back to work when her wage is tripled again: a friend and I did a back-of-a-napkin estimate of Helene’s salary at this stage and we put it at somewhere between £80k – £150k, which would surely make her the highest paid sous-chef in Britain.

Ultimately the pair cook and fight and eventually make great food together; inevitably they kiss too. Equally it’s clear that Daniel Bruhl, playing the manager/maitre’d is in love with Adam Jones. This is sort-of consummated in a single, conciliatory and deeply problematic kiss. While Uma Thurman, the Evening Standard’s restaurant critic (!), also weirdly reveals that while a lesbian, she once had sex with the chef. More importantly, she shows up for a meal at the restaurant and performs what I like to call Burntface: a plate of food arrives at table, she takes a morsel on a fork, the camera watches closely as she sucks the food into her mouth and then her eyes move heavenward, rapt, orgasmic, sick with longing.

Omar Sy is another one of Adam’s culinary cohorts. They have an early dust up outside the al fresco section of the Leicester Square Burger King: he’s got beef with AJ who previously sabotaged his own restaurant venture. They have a brief fight and then quickly make up with Omar agreeing to work at the Langham. Later, in a dramatic twist, Sy sabotages a meal intended for what may or may not be Michelin judges by over-seasoning a sauce. He then shows his hand, streaked with pepper. It’s payback for Paris he says, and walks out.

Matthew Rhys plays Montgomery Reece, a one-time collaborator turned rival. He runs Reece, a high-end restaurant cooking fancy molecular looking fare. He is Salieri to Cooper’s Mozart in the film’s formulation. The pair will clash along the way as the rivalry is revived.

In one great moment, after AJ’s revived restaurant gets a four star review in the Times with the stirring headline, “Adam Jones at the Langham Surprises and Delights”, Montgomery is so annoyed that he trashes his entire restaurant – every chair, table and plate is destroyed. With Reece’s in pieces he is prompted to relaunch his own enterprise.

Later in the film’s finest scene, AJ has fallen off the wagon after the disaster of Omar Sy’s revenge a la cayenne pepper, and shows up drunk at the Reece kitchen. It’s time for Jones and Reece to have their climactic stand-off. Out of control and wildly overacting, Cooper bellows an overture and grabs for a sous-vide bag with which he then attempts to suffocate himself. Thankfully Montgomery prevents this unprecedented sous-vide-cide, Adam then cries in his arms and they come to a greater understanding. It is bafflingly, brilliantly, beautifully bad *chef’s kiss*. Monty lets Adam sleep it off in the kitchen and in the morning makes Jones a cup of coffee and a two-egg omelette. “It’s good,” says Adam.

Ostensibly, Burnt looks like a standard, average film – a three star-er that you’d watch on a plane or when you’ve grown tired of scrolling through Netflix. But look closely and you realise that there is something wrong with virtually every moment in the film: one scene won’t make sense, the next is unintentionally funny, another is just plain obnoxious, more seem to exist largely to prove that Bradley speaks conversational French – it’s a smorgasbord of rubbish.

Put simply, if you haven’t yet seen Burnt, the only right and proper thing to do is savour its tastes right now – come join us Burntheads. It is a film so bad it will make you want to stop watching, yet you can’t turn away. You’ll be sick with longing. It’s good.

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Lisa Borders stepped down as the president and CEO of Time’s Up this week. The initial statement released by the organisation on 18th February said Borders had to “address family concerns that require my singular focus,” but now it is reported that those concerns are sexual misconduct allegations against her son.

Celia Gellert, 31, is accusing Borders’ 36-year-old son Garry “Dijon” Bowden Jr. of being sexually inappropriate with her, according to the Los Angeles Times.

Four days before Borders’ resignation, Gellert wrote in a private Facebook group called Inspired Women of Los Angeles to “stay far away” from Bowden. She claims that Bowden, a photographer, podcast host, and life coach, touched her genitalia, kissed her neck, and brushed his erect but clothed penis against her during a “healing session.”

Bowden is denying the claims. “My client vehemently denies that any inappropriate or non-consensual touching occurred at any time,” his attorney Alan Jackson said.

Time’s Up was founded in 2017 to fight for “safe, fair and dignified work” for women, and Borders was brought on to be their first CEO in October 2018. She was previously the president of the Women's National Basketball Association and the vice president of global community affairs at The Coca-Cola Company. She also served as chair of The Coca-Cola Foundation, according to a press release.

An unidentified source told the L.A. Times that Borders’ “role as the president of Time’s Up was in conflict with being a mother who was taking active steps to defend her son, ”and that “Lisa’s decision to step down was the right one for her — and for the organisation.”

After news of the allegations became public, Time’s Up released a second statement:

“On Friday, Lisa Borders informed members of Time’s Up leadership that sexual assault allegations had been made against her son in a private forum. Within 24 hours, Lisa made the decision to resign as president and CEO of Time’s Up and we agreed that it was the right decision for all parties involved. All of our actions were fully guided by our support for survivors.”

Statement regarding Lisa Borders’ resignation pic.twitter.com/YNQdUPvSlV

— TIME’S UP (@TIMESUPNOW) February 22, 2019

Borders was seen as Time’s Up’s saving grace amid reports that the organisation was struggling to organise internally before bringing her on. In a recent episode of Oprah Winfrey’s SuperSoul Conversations, Winfrey celebrated when Borders joined the team. “Everybody said, ‘Hallelujah, we have found her!’” Winfrey said.

Without Borders at the helm, the organisation will have to find a new leader.

If you have experienced sexual violence of any kind, please visit Rape Crisis or call 0808 802 9999.

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The professional body for GPs in the UK has come out in favour of fully decriminalising abortion.

The Royal College of GPs’ chair, Helen Stokes-Lampard, said this stance “is about providing non-judgemental care to our patients so that women who face the difficult decision to proceed with an abortion are not disadvantaged by the legal system”.

The Abortion Act 1967 made terminations legal in England, Wales and Scotland provided certain conditions are met – including approval from “two registered medical practitioners”.

In Northern Ireland, abortion is still prohibited in the vast majority of cases. It’s only legal if a woman’s life is at risk or there’s a permanent or serious risk to her mental or physical health. This means abortion is illegal in cases of rape, incest or fatal foetal abnormalities.

After polling its members, the Royal College of GPs (RCGP) said 62% of more than 4,400 respondents had said the organisation should support the decriminalisation of abortion.

Decriminalisation would make the procedure “governed by medical regulatory frameworks, not the criminal justice system”, thus reducing lingering stigma around abortion and preventing the possibility of a woman ever being prosecuted for having one.

Just 19% of respondents said that the RCGP should oppose the decriminalisation of abortion, while 15% said that the RCGP should take a neutral position. A further 4% abstained.

Professor Helen Stokes-Lampard, Chair of the Royal College of GPs, said in a statement: “This is an incredibly sensitive topic, but it’s essential that we engage in debate and hear what our members have to say on all issues facing modern healthcare.

“It speaks to the strength of feeling of our members that we had such a good response rate to our consultation. The quality of the feedback has been hugely valuable in helping us form an official position on the decriminalisation of abortion.

“Ultimately, this is about providing non-judgemental care to our patients so that women who face the difficult decision to proceed with an abortion are not disadvantaged by the legal system.”

Abortion charity Marie Stopes has welcomed the RCGP’s decision, calling it “excellent news”.

Really excellent news from the @rcgp that they are in support of decriminalising abortion.

“Ultimately, this is about providing non-judgemental care to our patients…”

Hear, hear! https://t.co/mOeF9PCQ3u

— Marie Stopes UK (@MarieStopesUK) February 22, 2019

Dr Asha Kaliwal of the Faculty of Sexual & Reproductive Healthcare also welcomed the news, saying: “We believe women should be able to access safe and legal abortion wherever they live in the UK.”

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Ever since I can remember, I’ve been a workaholic. Romantically, I’ve always been almost exclusively attracted to artists. It should be no surprise to anyone that I’ve ended up the breadwinner in my relationship.

That hasn’t always been the case — but right now my husband, Jacob, is freelance, while my salaried job as the head of content at a startup has become our main source of income and health insurance. When we got married in 2017, the situation was reversed. I was working from home as a communications director for a remote agency while Jacob’s career as a creative director was taking off, and he was significantly out-earning me for the first time in our six years together. But the balance of financial power is a pendulum, and five months later it swung back in my direction. Jacob decided to leave his agency job rather suddenly due to a toxic work environment –– his female boss was abruptly let go for no reason. How could I not totally support this decision? He was miserable, I was making plenty of money to pay our (thankfully reasonable) rent, and he had been turning down freelance work left and right in his full-time position. We both thought it would be an easy transition.

What I didn’t expect was that he wouldn’t really find work for a while, and resentment grew on both ends. I was frustrated the house was a mess when I came home from work. He was upset that I wasn’t able to see how hard he was trying to find jobs. I was angry that I was still doing most of the grocery shopping, and that I couldn’t splurge on shoes even though I worked so hard. He was feeling unappreciated. I was jealous of the time he had that I didn’t, because I was busting my ass at the office all day, while also picking up freelance gigs on nights and weekends. I was scared that on bad days at work I was trapped in my job because one of us needed a stable income and health insurance, and that responsibility fell squarely on me. Though my feelings were valid, they weren’t always necessarily fair. After all, we made the decision together.

I was frustrated the house was a mess when I came home from work. He was upset that I wasn’t able to see how hard he was trying to find jobs.

This is all to say, assuming the role of primary earner during the first year of our marriage has been an interesting exercise in communication, familial roles, and much to my chagrin…math.

Of course, I’m not the first female breadwinner to struggle navigating the topsy-turvy reality of playing provider: a 2014 Pew Research study found that women were the sole or primary financial provider in four-in-ten households with children younger than 18. Yet media coverage would lead you to believe that these kinds of relationships are doomed. Everyone is quick to cite the 2013 study that found in relationships where the woman out-earns the man, the couple has less sex. Late last year, Tucker Carlson drew Twitter ere when he claimed that “there is more drug and alcohol abuse in areas where women out-earn men.” And in 2017, Ashley C. Ford wrote an article for Refinery29, where she surveyed more than a 100 millennial women about their breadwinner status, many of whom expressed their unhappiness of being put into role they found to be stressful and burdensome.

I’ve got to believe that breadwinner status is hard for everyone, regardless of gender. But I’ve learned is that it’s especially fraught for straight women. Even as more of us step up to support our families financially, it’s not really a popular topic of conversation. Jacob and I are incredibly communicative about everything, and yet, when it came to this new dynamic, it often felt like we weren’t speaking the same language.

Feeling frustrated and alone in my new role as breadwinner, I wanted to know more. Which is why I interviewed more than 20 female breadwinners, both straight and queer, of various ages and place in their lives, to figure out how exactly they manage the challenges. I wanted to know how they cope, if they embrace the mantle, and how we can move toward a new reality where everyone — male or female — can feel good about the roles they assume in their marriage. From business owners, account directors, and social media coordinators to university lecturers and freelance writers, the women I spoke with spanned a diverse range of industries, with one thing in common: their breadwinner status had dramatically affected their relationships in ways they had never imagined, both good and bad, yet most wouldn’t have it any other way.

While all of them share a variety of frustrations and silver linings, one thing that is clear is that the old adage is true: money is power. And when a woman assumes the traditional male role as provider, it can be confusing — it’s hard to shake society’s gender norms. We tend to put these relationships under the microscope and scrutinise every single dynamic. It’s almost as if we overhype the worst stereotypes about men (see every sitcom ever featuring lovable goofs incapable of loading a washing machine) and women (see those same sitcoms featuring overbearing nags).

Eleanor*, a 39-year-old business owner, blames her husband’s “shitty attitude about household chores” on his upbringing, and she doesn’t connect their conflicts over household responsibilities to her position as primary earner. In fact, I was a little surprised to find that only a third of the women I interviewed indicated that fights over domestic responsibilities increased alongside their salaries. After all, women typically take on more domestic responsibilities regardless of how much they’re contributing financially because of societal norms and expectations. In fact, the more a woman out-earns her husband, the less housework he performs: It’s been noted that many female breadwinners pick up the majority of domestic responsibilities in addition to their professional workload to assuage their husbands’ feelings of emasculation.

“Women know the rules,” says Farnoosh Torabi, personal finance expert and author of She Makes More. “The home is our domain if we’re not working, and we’re going to do a good job. For men, it’s not the instinct.”

It makes sense when you consider that the stereotype of women keeping homes is reinforced in movies, on TV, in every single laundry detergent commercial, and likely even watching our own parents interact. When men are put it in the same position, they have no blueprint to instinctually follow. Just watch Michael Keaton struggle to “become the lady of the house” in the 1983 classic Mr. Mom. That movie is more than 35 years old, and yet there’s been no iconic update to that pop culture trope. Women’s media regularly repeats the line that girls cannot become what they cannot see. But that’s also true for boys.

For the female breadwinners who weren’t getting into fights over dirty dishes, their relationships were built on the understanding that their partners would actively take on non-traditional responsibilities — whether that's childcare, cleaning, or emotional support — and would be valued for that contribution.

For the female breadwinners who weren’t getting into fights over dirty dishes, their relationships were built on the understanding that their partners would actively take on non-traditional responsibilities.

Sara, 37, a legal assistant, was laid off at the same time as her husband, but she was able to secure a new job first. After she gave birth to their first child, they decided it made sense for her husband to say at home. “The biggest thing has been to trust him to take on the primary caregiver role. I don’t pull second shift at home or expect to run everything while my husband just helps. I’m also not picky about how he does things, dad wise. I concentrate on my part, let him do his part, and enjoy hanging out with my baby.”

But Sara might be an outlier. Even if breadwinner status makes women feel entitled to demand more from the partners domestically, typically it doesn’t always shake out so evenly, especially if there are children involved. While a majority of parents from dual, full-time working households say certain responsibilities are shared equally, about half say the mother does more when it comes to managing children’s schedules and activities. (On the other hand, one of the secrets of becoming a female CEO is having a husband who’s willing to be the primary caregiver.)

Some of the women I spoke to think these feelings of parity can be achieved by alternating breadwinner status throughout the duration of the relationship. When you’re in it for the long haul, unless you’ve decided on permanent roles from the get go, it makes sense that the primary earner would fluctuate over the years as life happens.

“The balance of who makes more has gone back and forth several times in our 20-plus-year relationship. At this point it’s a non-issue for us” says Jamie Beth, a 42-year-old writer and administrative assistant.

“We sort of switch off who has the ‘good job’ (the one that makes the money) and which of us gets to do the creative bit for awhile,” says Julie, 41, a talent agent, describing the give and take in her marriage. “Right now I have a start-up business and so for the past year he's had the good job, but for the previous six years, it was me.”

But there were other women who embraced their ambition and couldn’t imagine another way of life. Jane*, a creative director I interviewed, found the only way she could make her relationship work was by shucking norms. “When we tried to have a ‘normal’ relationship, we failed miserably. But, as soon as we started getting weird and doing what we wanted instead of what we were supposed to do, things got better and better.”

It was stories like Jane’s that I found to be the most helpful. Being the breadwinner is hard, but so many of these women have found ways to make it work and as a result, their relationships have thrived.

“In a way, it puts a microscope over problems that you may not have noticed before,” says Jennifer, 32, a merchandiser. “It's actually a great thing to be able to see these problems clearly and have an opportunity to pull yourselves out of them. And if you do, you'll be stronger than ever.”

As Martha, 33, a biopharma marketer, observes, it can be a gift if you have a partner who isn’t threatened by the dynamic, and you have a clear plan for each person to feel valued and productive. She’s found that she’s more confident, and she likes being able to spend money without needing permission.

It seems as though the real secret to success as a female breadwinner is not letting anyone in the relationship feel taken for granted. Which, let’s be honest, should be the case in every relationship regardless of who earns more. Every contribution is valuable, and no one wants to feel their efforts, whether they be domestic or financial, count any more or less. Plus, there’s something truly magical about finding that someone who supports your ambitions.

“I'm in my professional prime, doing and achieving the things I actually dreamed I would as a child,” Jane, the creative director, shares. “And, it's made possible by my partner who is literally always there for me, quietly replacing the collection of empty cans on my desk with a fresh La Croix when I'm stuck on long calls and reminding me to be a person.”

Still, that primary earner status is scary, and it comes with a lot of pressure. I’ve had moments of feeling trapped, resentful, and burdened with a responsibility I took on without really understanding how it would make me feel. But it’s also made me made me stronger, more resourceful, and more vocal in all parts of my life. I’m proud that I had the power to provide needed financial support when my family needed it.

Even though I’m a self-diagnosed workaholic, this might not always be my reality. But, one day when it’s not, I’m going to be glad knowing that it’s something I’m more than capable of doing, and that my relationship can withstand shifts in balance and power with a few (or a lot) of hard conversations. I’ll also, most likely, be bummed I can’t use my breadwinner status to leverage getting out of making the bed quite so much.

*Names have been changed.

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Secondary school pupils in England will be taught about the dangers of FGM under new government guidelines.

Lessons will address the physical and emotional damage caused by FGM, the BBC reports, as well as making pupils aware of support services available for survivors.

Lessons will also impress on pupils that FGM is illegal in the UK.

The new lessons in FGM awareness will form part of compulsory relationships and sex education classes to be introduced in secondary schools by 2020.

Responding to the new guidelines, the End Violence Against Women (EVAW) Coalition expressed concerns that teaching children about FGM once they reach secondary school age could be “too late”.

However, anti-FGM campaigner Nimco Ali insisted that the new guidelines should be welcomed as a step forward, tweeting: “With #FGM being added to the Children Act there will be more protection for children in Primary school and teachers will have more knowledge. What could constitute FGM or any kind of abuse can be taught via the PANTS rules. Please don’t damper this incredible moment.”

With #FGM being added to the Children Act there will be more protection for children in Primary school and teachers will have more knowledge. What could constitute FGM or any kind of abuse can be taught via the PANTs rules. Please don’t damper this incredible moment. https://t.co/iTKgXHUwte

— Nimco Ali ? (@NimkoAli) February 24, 2019

Despite the best efforts of terminally obstructive MP Sir Christopher Chope, the campaign to have FGM added to the Children Act continues with full force. Once passed, this new legislation will make it easier for social services, hospitals and schools to intercept when they believe a child is at risk.

According to the NSPCC, 137,000 girls and women in the UK are affected by FGM.

“We know that FGM can have a catastrophic effect on the lives of those affected, causing life-long physical and psychological damage,” Education Secretary Damian Hinds said today.

“Everyone must do all they can to protect women and girls from this extreme form of gendered violence. There's a legislation aspect, and enforcement, but just as important is awareness and challenging assumptions – which is why we are making sure all pupils are given all the facts at secondary school.”

Meanwhile, the Welsh government is currently consulting on new guidelines for sex education in schools which would include FGM awareness. Sex education in Northern Ireland and Scotland is at the discretion of individual schools and local authorities.

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Ever since my first job at MTV working as a music programmer, I can't stop trying to match people with music they might like. So, I wrote a book called Record Collecting for Girls and started interviewing musicians. The Music Concierge is a column where I share music I'm listening to that you might enjoy, with a little context. Get everything I've recommended this year on Spotify, follow me on Twitter or Facebook, and leave a comment below telling me what you're listening to this week.

Ari Lennox & J. Cole “Shea Butter Baby”

Ari Lennox gets a boost from her boss, Dreamville Records head J. Cole, on this single (although last year's “Whipped Cream” proved she doesn't really need any assistance). This is an interesting track; it strikes me as very Dreamville, with its Spanish guitar and a blended beat that's somehow part old school/nostalgic and part darker, sparser new school sound. Lennox's voice fits right in, creating something that sounds like her, and only her.

Aldous Harding “The Barrel”

There's a no fucks given vibe to Aldous Harding that reminds me of watching Grey Gardens. One starts by wondering who this magical creature is and what kind of journey this is going to be. That curiosity never abates — Harding is “can't take my eyes off of you” charismatic and a singular artist, even in the terribly uninteresting format of a music video. Whatever this ride is, I'd like to see where it goes.

Thayer Sarrano “Grace Goes On”

Meet the woman with the most world-weary voice in music: Thayer Sarrano. She's most assuredly creating the soundtrack to whatever becomes the next The Craft or Natural Born Killers — a little bit industrial grime, a little bit shoegaze, a little bit dark as fuck. I've always been a sucker for those Hope Sandoval of Mazzy Star and Karen Elson vocals.

Jade Novah “Cosmic Love”

True fact: I have a Spotify playlist dedicated to love songs that use outer space as a metaphor or to describe a relationship. It's called Cosmic Love Songs and it was the first thing I thought of when Jade Novah's single hit my inbox. Novah is on some kind of out of this world tip with her song. This is my love language — thank you for making me feel seen.

Rina Mushonga “Narcisc0”

The opening guitar riff on this track immediately made me think of Love's “Alone Again Or,” but Rina Mushonga's vocals and rhythm guitar take it to a different, more African place (which makes sense, given that she's a Dutch-Zimbabwean artist). Her album just came out last week and this made me eager for more. Not only is the music utterly captivating, but Mushonga's message is one that's particularly timely.

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In the UK, ethnicity is split into five major categories: 'white', 'black', 'Asian', 'mixed' (usually referring to white + black or Asian) and 'other'. In many aspects of our life, we are asked to self-define which category we fit into — on job applications, on medical applications, at school. The most significant instance is when we participate in the national census, a head count of people in the country, conducted every 10 years by the Office for National Statistics (ONS), the UK’s largest independent producer of official statistics. The last survey was taken in March 2011. According to that census, the total population of England and Wales is over 56 million.

Breaking that figure down, around 48 million people identify as white, 4.2 million as Asian, 1.9 million as black, 1.2 million as mixed and 560,000 people as other (though this does not take into account the 3.9 million people who ticked 'other' under the white, black, mixed and Asian categories). It comes as no surprise that those who identify as white make up the largest proportion of the population at 86%, but what is intriguing is that from 2001 to 2011, those identifying as 'other' under any of the major categories increased by 2 million in total. What this possibly shows is that the current categories are becoming outdated. How do people who fall under 'other' feel about being forced to identify themselves in this way?

Emily Fouad*, a 28-year-old editor, identifies as mixed British and Middle Eastern, an option not available on the form. “My mum is half Egyptian, half Turkish and my dad is half Iranian, half British,” she says. Fouad would prefer to have a wider range of mixed options that are more indicative of the UK population. “You either have Arab (with no mixed option) or British mixed Asian or Caribbean/African.”

Fouad is proud of her ethnicity but the lack of representation makes her feel somewhat isolated. “In a subconscious way it does perpetuate the feeling I’ve always had in the UK that I’m not quite British enough,” she explains. Fouad moved to the UK aged 12, having grown up in Singapore. Prior to the move, she hadn’t thought much about her ethnicity, as her school encompassed a diverse range of races. But in the UK, her class was predominantly white. “I was always conscious of not being white and experienced racism continuously.” That feeling followed her into adult life. “For official documents to also class you as other cements that perception.”

Banseka Kayembe agrees. Her father is Congolese and her mother is Punjabi, Indian. “I think it boils down to the fact that many people think being mixed race is this very specific thing of you're white and you're something else,” she explains. Kayembe references a scene in Love Island last year, where two white contestants — Ellie and Georgia — described their dating preference as mixed-race men. Despite it being a broad term, the two specifically meant men who are half white and half black. This misinterpretation of what it means to be mixed race results in Kayembe often being misidentified as solely black. By only having a white and black/Asian option, the census panders to existing misconceptions of mixed-race people.

For Liza Gundowry, the issue goes one step further. Gundowry is of Mauritian heritage, a country which is a melting pot of ethnicities: around two-thirds are Indo-Mauritian (of Indian descent), a quarter are Creole (of African descent or mixed race) and then there are smaller populations of Sino-Mauritian, Franco-Mauritian and Chinese. Gundowry identifies as Creole, having both Indian and African roots, but UK ethnicity forms don’t represent this. She would prefer to be recognised as 'black mixed' on these forms. “It is not even a lot to ask, it’s still inconspicuous,” she says, noting that her Latino friends find themselves ticking 'other' too. But ethnic ambiguity is an issue Gundowry feels trickles into every aspect of a person’s life. She is often seen as appropriating both sides of her culture. “When I've said I want an Indian wedding, a friend was like, 'Why would you want that?' Or if I get braids, that might not sit well with some black girls,” she adds. “What am I supposed to do then if I don't fit into any [one category]?”

Many organisations are trying to raise awareness of this question. On Instagram, Mixed Race Faces focuses on broadening the understanding of what it means to be mixed race by giving individuals a platform to talk about their heritage. For some, this can be the first time they find someone who identifies exactly as they do. “This was the first time I met someone who was similar to me apart from my siblings — his mum was Pakistani and his dad was Jamaican,” Kayembe says.

The Other Box is a platform with a broader initiative: to train the spotlight on people from underrepresented backgrounds in the creative industry. “The Other Box specifically came out of frustration for people – whether it be ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, etc – having to constantly define themselves into singular boxes, neglecting the multidimensional aspects of who they are,” says cofounder Leyya Sattar. “The consequences of this bureaucracy limit the way we then think about identity when forcing people to tick 'other' when filling in forms and documents.”

Of course, it will always be difficult to successfully identify every ethnicity, but the issue also lies with the term used. “There's something about the word 'other' that is disheartening,” Kayembe says. “If they could have another term, something a bit more respectful, I think that could make such a difference.” She suggests a question alongside the possibilities, such as: “If you don't fit any of these choices, please tell us what your racial heritage is.” To Kayembe, this would be a friendlier approach. “It shows they are actually interested in knowing what your racial heritage is.” For her, like many 'others', it’s about feeling that your ethnic background is valid and that you are valued in the country you call home.

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Going into this weekend, Game Of Thrones fans everywhere were excited. Rumor had it that HBO would at last unveil the official trailer for their fantasy epic’s long-awaited final season. Although Thrones is set to return in mere weeks — that April 15 premiere is days away at this point — there has been a real lack of actual promotional footage of Thrones season 8 out there. The trailer, expected to arrive before the True Detective 2019 finale, was supposed to change all of that.

Well, HBO did drop a trailer on Sunday, February 24. It’s just not what anyone expected — for more than one reason.

The obvious twist of HBO’s pre-True Detective preview, titled “It All Starts Here,” is that it isn’t exactly a Game Of Thrones trailer at all. Instead, like the commercial that debuted during the Golden Globes, the trailer teases all of the premium network’s upcoming 2019 content and merely features a few quick shots from Thrones season 8. After teasing Euphoria, the Deadwood revival, and a number of other projects, we see what appears to be Daenerys Targaryen’s (Emilia Clarke) troops on the march somewhere as one of her two remaining dragons fly above them. Then we see Arya Stark (Maisie Williams) looking up at something at Winterfell; it’s a moment fans have already seen in the Thrones photo release from earlier this month (and only increases the likelihood she might be responding to a dragon sighting).

After turning its attention back to other upcoming HBO series — hello, Chernobyl — the 2019 tease then closes with a series of thrilling pieces of Thrones footage. There are shots of the Night King (Vladimir Furdik), Dany, her bae-nephew Jon Snow (Kit Harington), more dragons, and The Wall. Considering this entire preview is about 2019 content, viewers will likely assume these are more intense glimpses of season 8 and Team Targaryen’s looming war with the White Walkers.

Unfortunately, that isn’t entirely the case.

At least two pieces of this montage come from season 7 of Thrones. As an obsessive rewatch proves, the trailer’s look at the Night King preparing to throw a giant ice spear isn’t proof he’ll be tossing another one in season 8. Instead, the shot is directly pulled from “Beyond The Wall,” when he infamously kills Viserion. Then the final shot of the preview, which shows the Wall falling and ice Viserion flying away from it, is also one of the final shots of season 7 finale “The Dragon And The Wolf.” It’s unclear if any of the other teaser-closing scenes are actually from season 8 (although the shot of Dany is reminiscent of her “Beyond” look, down to the outfit and hair).

So if you’re looking for a Game Of Thrones trailer unquestionably chock-full of actual new season 8 footage and spoilers, you’re going to have to keep waiting.

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Hats have had a bad rap of late, thanks in part to fedora-wearing Incels. Gone are the iconic associations with the suave Cary Grant and Humphrey Bogart, and in their place meninists doffing their hat to m’lady. But really, the hat’s demise began long before its association with internet trolls.

For as long as humans have been documented, we've used head coverings as a symbol of wealth, power and status; think of Abraham Lincoln’s top hat, or Marie Antoinette’s wig. At the beginning of the 20th century, nearly everyone wore a hat of some kind – from beret or silk scarf to Panama or trilby – but by the 1980s, they had been all but eradicated from our everyday wardrobes.

Why? Well, a move away from religion (where dressing in your Sunday best included a hat) and towards a general informality (three-piece suits are no longer an office requirement) is partly to blame, while we have sunglasses and SPF50 to protect us from the elements now, meaning we no longer require the practicality of a hat. Nowadays reserved for weddings, royal events, horse racing and not much else, the hat has had a dramatic downfall over the past few decades.

To be fair, David and Brooklyn Beckham and an onslaught of sartorially switched-on men are sporting flat caps inspired by Peaky Blinders – but what about headwear for women? Perhaps the renewed interest in hair accessories, from pearl slides to velvet headbands, will morph into a wider acceptance of hats. Simone Rocha, Erdem and Molly Goddard all sent head accessories down the catwalks this and last season – crowns, veils and balaclavas – so it’s not looking terribly farfetched.

One brand seeking to change the way we view hats is Hood London. Looking to the glamour of old Hollywood and the golden age of hat wearing but developing styles to suit the realities of today, it's creating pieces that we’d actually wear in 2019.

Founders Adèle Mildred and Gabrielle Djanogly met back in 2009 while making hats in the basement of the legendary milliner Stephen Jones' Covent Garden atelier. The duo established Hood in 2015 as a collective, where they would cherry-pick the hats they loved best from various milliners’ collections, scouting emerging talent as they went along. However, by retaining just 30% of the retail price in a bid to support their makers, the business was not sustainable – so last week they relaunched as a luxury hat label.

“Run as a label we are able to spend more time on our own designs, pushing ourselves forward creatively without being hemmed in by the constraints of a collective and the responsibility of carrying the voice of 15 other milliners,” Gabrielle tells Refinery29. “As a collective we tried to keep everything neutral but we now have the freedom to flaunt our femininity and bring our personalities to the foreground. The relaunch has served to boost our enthusiasm for what Hood could become and, starting as we mean to go on, we have collaborated with silk scarf designer, Cleo Ferin Mercury on one of the new designs.”

Discussions about hats invariably wander towards Princess Beatrice’s bow-cum-lobster fascinator – designed by Philip Treacy for the 2011 royal wedding – and the general consensus is that hats are for the rich and famous, reserved for high society events only. “It’s strange to think that hats are saved for rare events with a prohibitive price tag,” Gabrielle says. “How often do most of us attend a wedding or the races? Millinery shouldn’t conjure up visions of satellites and fluff. It’s this disconnect that prompted Hood to focus on investment pieces that you can wear season in and out; fashion forward without being fad and colours that are easy to pair (you won’t find any chartreuse and fuchsia).”

Hood is ready to rip up the rule book and change the public’s perception of hats for good. With pieces ranging from ultra glamorous netted veils to festival-ready moon-shaped headbands and kitsch heart berets, Gabrielle says we should treat hats like any statement-making accessory. “Hats have been separated from other accessories, but why should they be any different from a necklace or a lovely pair of fancy heels? Maybe a veil doesn’t marry so well with a gal who lives in yoga pants and trainers, but even she should have a few nights out! Most of our pieces are more comfortable than a pair of towering platforms and would certainly get you more attention. Hood will always offer a wide range of hats, from a cosy blocked beret to an evening bat mask.”

Taking inspiration from vintage styles from the golden age of hat wearing – “when there was no such thing as 'I don’t have a hat head'” – the brand develops those classic designs into contemporary pieces. “A great hat can take the wearer into another realm of being – whether that’s a goddess, a sweetheart or a vampy femme,” says Gabrielle. “Inspiration comes from the characters we want to play, parts of ourselves that we want to emphasis or curate.” No different from a bold lipstick or standout coat, we’re looking at hats with a fresh perspective. Heads up, ladies.

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