Somebody had to foot the bill for Anna Delvey’s fabulous new life. The city was full of marks.
So much for the hope that he might be a mild-mannered, semi-moderate justice.
Simon van Zuylen-Wood
The promise of Mister Rogers’s calmness.
Charles Bronfman, who’s speaking up about Bibi.
Remembering Tom Wolfe through his epic story.
Twenty-five things to see, hear, watch, and read.
Readers sound off on one man’s crusade against Uber, Donald Trump and Sean Hannity late-night phone calls, and more.
Our deliberately oversimplified guide to who falls where on our taste hierarchies.
It might even involve crayons. Seven amazingly bold graduates from Parsons School of Design.
A London atelier uptown, summer weekenders, and an East Village art bookstore.
The barista trying to start an artist community.
A new drug, and old hopes
Legacy Records lacks the spark and sizzle of its downtown siblings.
The new Una Pizza Napoletana serves a terrific take on tiramisu.
The teen-pop megastar reveals a dark — or at least darker — side on his make-or-break third album.
“I fucking love this movie, and I hate my agent for sending it.”
“With this picture,” he said, “I matured as a photographer and human being.”
Philip Roth’s infinite American mythologies.
Hereditary is unconventionally horrifying.
American Animals salvages a story from the dumbest real-life heist ever.
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