Rachel Hodin

Being a full-time fixer and the beating heart of D.C. does tend to fill up most of our schedules, thank you very much.

Just remember: everyone saw. It might be early, but that has absolutely no bearing on a snot bubble’s visibility.

Derek and Hansel were officially revived this morning and it was spectacular.

Rarely do comfort and style coexist amicably.

Whereas 50 Cent once said, in all his braggadocio, that we could find him in the club, I can now say with full certainty that, more times than not, you can find me in the tub.

If only I had put my time to good use and started saving up then, maybe I wouldn’t still be flirting with the idea of donating an organ now. But alas, here we are. Or rather: here I am…on http://www.kidney.org.

It’s like submerging oneself, fully clothed, into water, without having to first check the care label.

For what is arguably the most diminutive item of clothing, the collar paradoxically holds more weight and meaning than perhaps any other sartorial choice.

It’s not often that we can glean feminist statements from fashion, which is why I make sure to capitalize on the rare moments in which we can. And the feminist case of trousers feels abundantly valid.

They might not inject retinol into our cheeks, but they will probably help us gain access to an elite boxing gym. And they’ll certainly look good on camera.

It started with Miu Miu’s spring 2015 campaign; a cherubic Mia goth, in whom I saw something kindred: perfectly capable of dressing herself in full Miu Miu, Mia is also equally as incapable of so much as tucking in her sheets.

Because sometimes, when tired eyes are a gross understatement, putting on sunglasses can feel about as useful as bleaching my mustache (you can’t see it if it’s blonde, right? wrong) and nothing but goggles will do.