The boys of Glitterboy. Photography by Quil Lemons
Glitterboy, the ongoing photo series by 20-year-old artist Quil Lemons, features portraits of young, Black men with metallic, sparkly flecks on their cheeks and foreheads. All shot against soft pink backdrops, the subjects express a range of moods and feelings. One named Jordun smiles from ear to ear, while Harley gazes coyly and Myles stares starkly at the viewer, as if to ask the question: why are you looking at me just because I’m wearing cosmetics?
The answer to that has been jarringly mixed. Lemons, who often wears glitter on his own cheeks (“it’s cool when you see it in the sun,” he says), first started posting images of Glitterboy on his Twitter and Instagram accounts in 2017. Since then, the reception has ranged from love — Vogue, Allure and i-D have all given glowing reviews — to anger.
Lena Dunham plays Hannah and Adam Driver plays Adam Sackler on HBO’s Girls.
In She Did, the final episode of HBO’s Girls, a lot happened. Marnie moved out (because she lost the cage match); Jessa got married to an investment banker (who probably didn’t sign a prenupt, but probably should have); Shoshanna finally lost her virginity (to Ray — yes, she was that desperate); Elijah confessed to Hannah that he did, in fact, give her HPV (before she turned him gay); Jessa peed in front of Hannah (because this is Girls, so she had to pee in front of someone). But the only really important thing that happened was that Adam told Hannah that he loved her. Hurray? Finally? Victory? No. After the declaration, everything went sour. Why? Because nothing in this world makes any damn sense.
This week, The Grid — a free, weekly magazine in Toronto — ran a cover story about the debt habits of twenty and thirty somethings. Written by a former colleague of mine, Carely Fortune, the piece suggests that easy access to credit and financial illiteracy has lead my generation to spend all of our hard earned cash, as well as a great deal of borrowed money, on all of life’s inessentials — trips to Cuba, new iPads, expensive jeans. We’d rather have instant gratification — lattes and cupcakes — than long term financial stability, retirement at 60 (let along ever) and living debt free. In short, we’re screwed.
The story opens at Woodlot, with Carley’s mom looking around the artfully under-decorated Little Italy restaurant, wondering how such a young clientele can afford the near $30 entrees. I know the scene all too well.