Wednesday, January 14, 2026 |
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Every single January, on exactly this day, I remember that I am not a resolution guy. Why? Because January 14 is my brother's birthday—happy birthday, Russell!—and my gift to him always manages to reflect some way I'm trying, and failing, to improve myself. This year it was a gift card for gym equipment. Last year, my resolution was to keep in better touch with the fam, and I fully failed to get his gift in the mail on time. I am the worst. Anyway, this is why I'm bookmarking Esquire contributor Dave Holmes's top-notch list of decidedly non-traditional ways to improve yourself in the new year. They're all smart, and they're all attainable. My favorite? This year, I'm starting an album club. All the erudite discussion of a book club with none of the reading. I know the first person I'll invite. – Kevin Dupzyk, contributing editor |
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Everything is very stupid right now. Like, historically idiotic. Fighting back is easier—and more enjoyable—than you might think. |
We are living through the dumbest possible times. We are a nation of adults who know which Harry Potter dormitory we'd be sorted into. We are a country whose newspapers regularly use the phrase "claps back" in breaking-news headlines, whose Department of Homeland Security said "womp womp" in official correspondence, whose finest actresses are calling each other things like "greedy little pig bottom" on Ryan Murphy's All's Fair. It is dangerously stupid out there. Do you want to know how I know it's bad? I know it's bad because I know it's bad, and I'm one of the five dumbest people I've ever met. It was not always this way. I am old enough to remember when George H.W. Bush's vice president, Dan Quayle, corrected a child's spelling test, marking the child wrong because he had spelled potato without a silent e at the end. I remember it ruining his credibility, derailing his political ambitions, maybe even causing him up to 30 consecutive seconds of embarrassment. In 2025, Quayle would just insist he was right, half the country would agree, the dictionary would be added to the banned-books list, and the kid would have to introduce him at CPAC. We are using our brains less than ever, avoiding real-life interaction even more. Intellectually, we are now less than the sum of our parts, and we know it, and we're desperate for answers, which is how a Jordan Peterson can build an empire on "make your bed." If we're going to make it to whatever awaits us on the other side of this, we're going to have to defend what's left of our brain cells. Allow me to give you a few tips to bring some spark back into your cerebrum and maybe even start the process of re-ensmartenizing this stupid world. |
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Kiehl's has been in my life for as long as I can remember. I grew up swiping on Kiehl's lip balm back when it came in actual flavors (mango, mint, pear—ah! take me back). Every winter, my dad and I still reach for the hand cream; it's a non-negotiable part of getting through the season. And then there was the heat-protective silk straightening cream, which I used religiously when I started straightening my hair in high school—long since discontinued, and I'm still holding a grudge because hairspray is not the same. Part of why it's always felt so personal is that the original Kiehl's apothecary—the one that opened in 1851 on the corner of Third Avenue and East 13th Street—was my neighborhood store growing up. My mom and I would pop into the flagship every month with our empties to recycle jars and bottles, collecting stamps we could redeem for discounts. It was equal parts errand and ritual, and it endeared me to the brand early on. But more than all the rest, the Kiehl's product that's been the true constant in my life (and my family's) is the brand's Ultra Facial Cream, which launched in 2006 and quickly became one of the brand's staple skincare products. It's a smooth, no-fuss moisturizer, and I've been putting on my face for years. |
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It's a big week for Omar Apollo. We're talking on the phone the day after the 2026 Golden Globe Awards—where Apollo walked the red carpet wearing a purple Valentino suit and a massive Swarovski crystal around his neck—because today the 28-year-old musician is announcing that he's the new Coach Global Ambassador for 2026. Luckily, the brand's Gen Z–aimed campaign, "The Courage to Be Real," fits right in with Apollo's honesty and fearlessness. On the Globes red carpet, the openly gay musician joked with a reporter as Alexander Skarsgård walked by that the Swedish actor should "holler at me" with a nod to the camera. "What's up, baby?" he added, with a laugh. Apollo is no stranger to Hollywood. He appeared in Luca Guadagnino's Queer for a viral sex scene with Daniel Craig as the celebrated actor's character went down on him. And on 2024's God Said No, his most recent record, Apollo's raw and honest lyrics about a painful breakup inspired the great Pedro Pascal to contribute. The Last of Us star shared a story about a time when he was left "shattered" on a track titled "Pedro" toward the end of the album. "I can't believe I'm sending you this," Pascal says on the recording. "I remember just literally being kind of brought to my knees." That's just the effect that Apollo has on people. |
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