Hole frontwoman and ’90s grunge queen, Courtney Love is 110% unapologetic—in her lyrics and in life.
Before we can even think about taking a vacation from our vacation (holiday stress is the realest), we have to end
‘Tis the season to drop it like it’s hot, so we asked makeup artist, beauty
From freaky AF haunted houses to scary movie marathons (just another excuse to watch Carrie and eat too many m&m’s,
In case you haven’t heard, it’s International Music Day (aka best holiday ever), and what better way
Fall is official as of this week, and that means making sweater pants look seductive, lounging around on jacquard, and a little soundtrack direct from NGHQ…
MØ’s name takes a few minutes to pronounce correctly, but that doesn’t mean she deserves any less attention. In fact, in an age when performers and their outrageous personas are becoming kind of meaningless, MØ’s name—and everything else about her— is refreshingly profound.
I always assume that most people know about the greatness that was the girl groups of the 60‘s, but maybe you don’t? The Shangri-Las, The Ronettes, The Chiffons, The Supremes, The Crystals, The Dixie-Cups and many more all ruled the airwaves during that time with sweet triple harmonies conceived either by old man producers or themselves. Either way, they owned it on stage. They were the stars. However, there were tons of artists in that day who did not reach Mary Wells fame. These all-girl groups were breaking the rules before the rules were even made.
Angel Haze sounds like a rapper, but she feels like a one-woman punk band. Towards the end of her recent frenetic performance opening for MIA at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles, Haze jumped into the audience. She was invisible except for the strobe of cell phones and camera flashes that followed her from one side of the crowd to the other, her powerful staccato booming through the waves of fans rocking out to her words. Haze may be young and relatively new to the game, but she has an insanely smart literary mind and name drops both queer theorists and rappers in the same breath. I spoke with the talented Detroit-bred rapper about poetry, fashion, and finding her voice in the industry.
In the past you’ve described yourself as the “voice to the voiceless.” Who are the voiceless and how do you feel about the responsibility that comes with being their voice?
The first time I laid eyes on Valerie Yum was in the sweaty back room of an infamous, now sorely missed Sydney party called Gay Bash. If memory serves me correctly she was being photographed climbing across a black leather couch on all fours, throwing her long hair back over her head, wearing an American flag leotard and no pants. There is a photo of this somewhere on the internet, but in the interest of preserving our friendship I’ll leave it up to your imagination. Not much has changed since then, although both of us have sensible bobs and Val’s gone from occasional DJ sets at underground gay parties to being the first person you call when you’re putting on a fashion event in Sydney. Here’s how she did it: