Innholdsfortegnelse for August 5-18, 2019 i New York Magazine

1 New York’s latest cover story—“Who Was Jeffrey Epstein Calling?” (July 22–August 4)—took a detailed look at the celebrities, CEOs, and presidents who orbited the sex offender. Many readers were furious at the elite’s perceived complicity in Epstein’s crimes, with @AndBrent calling the report an “infuriating rundown of the gilded class’s insidious connections.” Elizabeth Bruenig wrote, “This is the kind of wide-branching scandal somebody would invent to foment class rage, and it comes at a moment when class politics is closer to the surface of American discourse than it has been in a while.” Many noted the relationships between Epstein and other prominent men who have been accused of sexual misconduct, including Woody Allen and Charlie Rose: @CStrait2 tweeted, “Let’s hope this lays to rest any hopes for Charlie Rose…

ON JULY 25, Warren B. Kanders, a.k.a. the “tear-gas CEO,” quit the Whitney Museum board after months of protests culminating in several artists’ deciding to withdraw their work from the Biennial halfway through its run. It was just the latest callout to rock arts institutions, which—at least since the age of the Medici—have relied on the largesse of the very wealthy. (Today there are also tax advantages.) “Boards of museums in New York and the rest of the country have been washing machines for reputations,” says Michael Gross, author of Rogues’ Gallery, a social history of the Metropolitan Museum. “Traditionally, New York has not cared if you’re red or blue as long as your money is green.” But this laissez-faire attitude is under fire: Kanders’s resignation comes after Mortimer D.A.…

Favorite Style of Jeans: The Mom Jean Although mom jeans, in general, had an overwhelming presence in our survey, American Eagle’s high-waisted mom jean is the one that got the most mentions. As one teen put it: “They’re so soft and sturdy, and super-versatile. I can roll them up or leave them down.” Another of our respondents noted: “I just love the quality of the denim, but you can distress them on your own if you want. And the waist fits snug but allows movement, so you don’t feel suffocated.” VIDEO-GAME SYSTEM 43% Sony PlayStation 34% Microsoft Xbox 11% Nintendo 2DS 9% Nintendo Switch 21% Other THE Cool SCALE THRIFTY TEENS The Top Resale Websites Are … “Depop is great because there are a lot of rare, one-of-a-kind pieces that make…

DOUGLAS LYLE THOMPSON 42, Photographer, Denver, New York Where are you headed? Denver, New York, first time upstate this summer. I’ve been in the Hamptons. This Trailways situation, I can tell, is very different than the LIRR. How so? On the LIRR, people are dicks. Recently, I got in an argument with a guy who had his suitcase on two seats. I said, “Do you mind if I sit?” And he said, “Where will I put my bag?” I said, “Does your bag have a ticket?” Good comeback. Yeah, well, that train is just aggro. Meanwhile, we’ve been waiting awhile here, and these Trailways people are dead silent. This bus, I can tell, is not aggro. THE LOOK BOOK: PORT AUTHORITY Where are you headed? A house I bought in…

JUST WHEN YOU thought you knew all there is to know about the current craze for focaccia and its pizzalike variants, along comes focaccia col formaggio di Recco (focaccia di Recco for short; FDR for shortest): a bubbly ooze of tart and fruity stracchino cheese barely contained by two supersize rounds of paper-thin dough. Mere mention of FDR and its holy grail, the 134-year-old Manuelina, a restaurant in the Ligurian town of Recco, can cause otherwise jaded gastronomes to lose their minds. Italian-food expert Fred Plotkin has described it as “probably the most addictive food on the planet.” And Vogue’s Jeffrey Steingarten wrote 2,500 words on the subject detailing his hunt for the recipe while extolling the dish as combining the crispness of a potato chip with the succulence of…

ONE MONDAY IN JUNE, a team of young data researchers gathered in the conference room of a Boston start-up called Spotted-Risk to talk about celebrities who’d gotten themselves into trouble. Operations analyst Franki Slattery began the meeting by ticking off a couple of updates: Cuba Gooding Jr. had been arrested for allegedly groping a woman at a bar; soccer star Cristiano Ronaldo’s civil rape lawsuit had been moved to federal court. Other “disgrace events,” as Slattery called them, were harder to categorize. Rapper Lil Xan had pulled a gun on someone at a 7-Eleven over a dispute about Tupac. “They’ve started describing the situation as ‘assault with a deadly weapon,’ ” rather than the standard gun possession, Slattery said. Also, Lil Xan had used the N-word. “Pardon my ignorance,” said…

“I like those weird Fila shoes; I think they’re the next ‘cool girl’ shoe.” “I would never see myself ‘really wanting’ a materialistic or tangible thing. The things that I really want in life are more concepts than anything else, like complete self-assurance and lifelong independent stability and happiness.” “I really want a claddagh ring.” “Natural perfume! I want to go to a couple of incense shops around NYC and find a fragrance I like.” “Something I really want is confidence.” “Something I would like to have is money so I can cosplay one of my favorite anime characters.” “Getting a husky puppy.” “I am currently wanting a pair of white Nike Air Max 90s. I had them back in middle school, and they were my most comfortable pair of…

ACCORDING TO OUR kindly painting instructor, Sabrina, Carly Rae Jepsen has chosen an unusual piece for us to replicate at our midafternoon BYOB paint-and-sip. We’re at the Painting Lounge on West 38th Street, hidden away on a second floor and highly air-conditioned in the midst of a heat wave, listening to the Big Little Lies soundtrack, which was Sabrina’s choice, and trying to re-create Pablo Picasso’s 1932 portrait of a woman asleep and dreaming, Le Rêve, which was Jepsen’s. Sabrina has us working off stencils, so we don’t have to match the distorted outlines of Picasso’s woman on our own, but it’s still, in its relative way, ambitious. The Painting Lounge’s other templates tend toward the less pedigreed and more banal—sailboats and sunsets and city parks with bare trees—but Jepsen’s…

JUST 90 MINUTES into the first day of the inaugural Fortnite World Cup, 12-year-old H1ghSky1 has a problem. The video-game prodigy is the youngest member of the e-sports organization FaZe Clan, which is holding a pop-up at a sneaker store just off Canal Street. The event, if it had gone as planned, would have lasted all afternoon. Fans of pro gamers would meet their idols and pick up limited-edition merch. But turnout has been larger than anticipated, the kind you might see for a new line of Yeezys—if Kanye were also in attendance. Die-hards camped out overnight before the event, and police had to shut down the street to prevent the store from being mobbed. The store isn’t happy, and the manager pulls FaZe CEO Lee Trink aside to notify…

FOUR YEARS AFTER Donald Trump emerged as the most nakedly authoritarian candidate in American history, it’s tempting to view the threat he once seemed to pose as overblown. Upon his election, some panicked that he would be a proto-dictator, trampling every democratic institution in the fascist manner imported from Mussolini’s Italy and Hitler’s Germany. Others saw merely a malign, illiberal incompetent who would probably amount to nothing too threatening—or believed that America’s democratic institutions and strong Constitution would surely survive Trump’s strongman posturing, however menacing it appeared in the abstract. Many contended that his manifest criminality meant he would be dispatched in short order, with impeachment simply a matter of time. It was all, unavoidably, unknown and unknowable—and so we cast around for historical analogies to guide us. Was this…

OVER THE PAST couple of months, we posed a slew of shopping questions to more than 100 teenagers across the city—from neighborhoods including Astoria, Bed-Stuy, East Harlem, Jackson Heights, Park Slope, Ridgewood, the West Village, Williamsburg, Woodside, and the Upper East Side. Our pool of responders (71 percent of whom identified as female, 27 percent as male, and 2 percent as nonbinary) shared some surprising insights on the cool factor of denim jackets and Devon Lee Carlson, some less surprising feedback on backpacks and AirPods, and more opinions than we ever imagined about the case for Nike Air Force 1’s versus Converse Chuck 70s (as photographed by New York City teen Sabrina Fuentes in her bedroom).…

Get a coffee at the Dunkin’ Donuts in the Stillwell Terminal. There aren’t many places in the park to caffeinate. A Starbucks is opening near the aquarium in the near future, but, as of now, that Dunkin’ is the best option. Take the last car on the Cyclone. Coney is split up into Luna Park and Deno’s Wonder Wheel Amusement Park. The bulk of the rides—which, by the way, rarely have lines longer than a half-hour, even in the middle of the day—are in Luna, so buy a day pass there and head straight to the Cyclone at the park’s entrance. It goes 60 miles per hour, really fast for an old coaster. If you like being very terrified, sit in the back row: Friends of ours have felt it…

MOST LOCAL STRAWBERRY connoisseurs are familiar with the Tristar, Greenmarket’s small, sweet answer to the supermarket’s transcontinental behemoths. But few are aware of the behind-the-scenes drama that has put the future of this superfruit in jeopardy. The David in this tale is Rick Bishop of Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, who in 1985 crashed the Union Square farmers’ market with his Cornell University roommate Gerald Posner and a pickup truck full of Tristars and has been selling them to besotted chefs and finicky New Yorkers ever since. Goliath would be Planasa, the multinational horticultural corporation that in 2017 acquired Norcal, the California nursery that supplies Bishop’s virus-free bare-root plants, the raw material of commercial berry farming, and dropped Tristars from its product roster this past March. To grasp the magnitude of…

“Barre is a bizarrely and clinically eroticized experience. This is partly because of the music: barre offers you the opportunity to repeatedly clench your left butt cheek in a room full of women experiencing mute, collective, seven A.M. agony while listening to an EDM song about banging a stranger at the club. But there’s an aspect to a barre class that actually resembles porn, specifically a casting-couch video. It places you, the exercise-seeker, in the position of the young woman who is ‘auditioning’ on camera. Your instructor is the third party, a hot woman who tells you to switch positions every thirty seconds and keep your legs over your head. She squeaks, coyly, ‘Yes, right there, dig into it, I like seeing those legs shake—now it’s really getting juicy—that’s it,…