The TueDo List: Fashion Frustration + Trapper Keepers + '80s Sounds
Plus $3 movie tickets this weekend
📖 READ: RIP to the guy who created the Trapper Keeper and made us almost psyched to go back to school every fall. Chris Evert caught her ovarian cancer early because she lost her sister to the same disease. Elle’s midterm elections guide with key races where abortion is on the ballot. Cooking with Nora Ephron. How to help your best friend through a divorce. No seatbelts, no adults at home after school, and other ways Gen X grew up that would not fly today. Dame interviewed Soledad O’Brien — about her pets.
👀 LOOK: Le Tigre’s first performance in 11 years (aside: KH’s grey hair looks amazing). Twenty minutes of bloopers and outtakes from all five seasons of Insecure. A+ tweet from Wendy’s in Canada. A look back at Serena Williams’ tennis fashion.
Now: Tilda Swinton and Idris Elba in Three Thousand Years of Longing (Theaters), Steve Carell is held captive by a serial killer in The Patient (FX, Hulu), and whoah-oh-here-she-comes documentary Darryl Hall & John Oates: From Philly to Chile (Paramount+).
TUENIGHT 10: Katie Fogarty, Podcaster
Basic bio: Katie Fogarty is the host of A Certain Age, a podcast that shines an age-positive spotlight on midlife and shares the smarts and sparkle of women ages 50+. A former journalist turned career coach, Katie’s day job helping job hunters create strong LinkedIn profiles has taught her that not everyone is up for owning their age. She created A Certain Age to shift the dated narrative that aging makes you irrelevant.
Beyond the bio: I am a superfan of second acts and career evolution. I have lost count of how many times I have reinvented myself. I’ve worked as a TV news writer, for global PR firms, on Capitol Hill, as a stay-at-home mom, and as an English teacher in Japan. I launched my podcast 35 days before my 51st birthday because I was hearing a steady drumbeat of fear about ageism from clients and friends. 52 years on this planet has taught me that there are oceans of things that I do not know but that two things are true: It’s never too late to become the person we are meant to be, and ageism isn’t going away until we are all willing to age out loud.
What makes you a grown-ass lady?
Recognition that I am 100% responsible for my own happiness. Willingness to do hard things, have hard conversations, be of service to the people I love, care for my larger communities, claim my own joy, and (shakes virtual pom poms) my happiness in being part of Team Age Out Loud.
Here’s her TueNight 10:
On the nightstand: A leaning tower of books (topped by Between Two Kingdoms and Crying in H Mart (yes, I am late to the game on both). Rosebud Woman’s Honor Balm, the best lube. A fuzzy eye mask because I can’t get my Zzzs without an eye mask.
Can’t stop/won’t stop: Trying new things, running full tilt, prioritizing mascara.
Jam of the minute: Jon Batiste’s We Are. I am down a Jon Batiste, Suleika Jaouad rabbit-hole. Both are so talented.
Thing I miss: Feeling like the world was safe.
‘80s crush: Gah! Too many to list. Catholic school will do that to you.
Current crush: My pandemic puppy.
Latest fav find: Obsessed with Chantecaille Lip Potion and Rosebud Woman Anoint Oil for daily Gua Sha. I am skincare lazy; I can only manage these. Tru Fru chocolate covered raspberries from Target to follow hot yoga.
Last thing you lost: Obviously my reading glasses.
Best thing that happened recently: Glamping in Acadia, a family trip to Cutchogue, and welcoming a new niece.
Looking forward to: A trip to Scotland, and launching my revamped website in September.
STORY: At What Age Can I Go Back to Dressing Like a Lunatic?
By Judy McGuire
I spent three years desperately trying to fit in, spending all my babysitting money on Fair Isle sweaters, Lacoste polo shirts and Bass Weejuns, and yet no matter what I wore, I always felt like an imposter. Dressing like the popular kids didn’t make me popular, it just amplified our differences. One day it occurred to me that I didn’t actually like wide-wale corduroy — so why on earth was I wearing it? In fact, it was that pair of atrociously ill-fitting tan corduroy pants that convinced me to say, “fuck fashion.”
Well, that and the Sex Pistols.
I gave my preppy clothes to my sister and started dying my hair. Instead of shopping at the Gap, I haunted vintage shops, snatching up mohair sweaters and sequined skirts. I still remember the thrill of going to Trash and Vaudeville in the East Village to buy my first pair of super tight black jeans. As I nervously walked out of the dressing room to show my friend how they looked, the tattooed sales guy looked me up and down and declared I needed a smaller size. I just about fainted with pride. Shopping at Lord & Taylor never gave me this kind of a rush.
Celebrate your wins, TueNighters!