Like grief, Brexit comes in waves. Since Britain decided, two summers ago, to leave the European Union, there have been weeks—occasionally entire months—when it has been possible not to think about it, or to imagine that the whole business is moving along somewhere. But then something shifts, the vertigo returns, and people start tearing their hair out all over again. This June is one of those times. The U.K.’s formal negotiations to leave the E.U. began almost exactly a year ago and are heading for one of their periodic showdowns, at a European Council meeting at the end of the month. The deeply complicated talks are supposed to be basically finished by October, and right now it’s hard to see how that is possible. At the same time, Theresa May’s fragile Conservative government is trying to steer its flagship Brexit legislation through the Houses of Parliament, beset on all sides by rebels, dreamers, and Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour Party.
The elements of the Brexit process that now trigger major discord are so technical and abstruse that only a handful of people really understand them. In recent weeks, the national debate has centered on apparently schismatic differences over whether Britain and the European Union should maintain “the” customs union, “a” customs union, a customs “partnership,” or (the government’s favored euphemism) a customs “arrangement.” But these arguments almost always flow back to the same place—whether you think Brexit is a good idea at all. And on that question the country remains about as divided as it was when it voted, by fifty-two to forty-eight per cent, to leave the E.U. “People just haven’t budged,” a senior government official told me the other day. “There is a third of people who really want to leave, a third that desperately want us to stay, and . . . of the people in the middle, a lot of them are just sick of this, and really tired, but are still generally associated with whichever way they voted.”
Last week, it was the Brexiteers, who tend to believe that the government is being too timid and wishy-washy about the whole affair, who lost their temper. On June 6th, David Davis, the country’s sixty-nine-year-old Brexit Secretary, and its chief negotiator in the talks, threatened to resign over the wording of a so-called backstop option, which would effectively keep the U.K. within the pale of E.U. regulations until it can find something to replace them with. Downing Street officials had drafted the backstop behind Davis’s back, and then expected him to sell it in Brussels. The following day, Davis, looking increasingly like a man deep in the process of making an IKEA chest of drawers who has decided, on principle, not to read the instructions, spent an hour with the Prime Minister in her office in the House of Commons until he was persuaded to carry on.
That evening, as if by chance, an audio recording of Boris Johnson, the pro-Brexit Foreign Secretary, speaking at a supposedly private dinner was leaked to the press. Johnson, a destabilizing figure, is largely excluded from the day-to-day work of Brexit, but he exerts his influence in other ways. On the tape, Johnson urged the Prime Minister to be braver in the talks. “You’ve got to face the fact there may now be a meltdown, O.K.?” he said. “I don’t want anybody to panic during the meltdown. No panic. Pro bono publico, no bloody panic.” He mused about what would happen if Donald Trump were leading Brexit instead: “He’d go in bloody hard. . . . There’d be all sorts of breakdowns, all sorts of chaos. Everyone would think he’d gone mad. But, actually, you might get somewhere. It’s a very, very good thought.” May, who when the story broke was on her way to the G-7 talks—to deal with the actual Trump, and his actual breakdowns, and his actual chaos—can’t sack Johnson, because her government might fall if she does.
This week, it was the Remainers’ turn to get their oar in. On Tuesday, the government’s most important piece of Brexit legislation, the E.U. (Withdrawal) Bill, returned to the House of Commons, where May’s Conservatives no longer hold a majority. The bill is on a long and punishing journey through Parliament. In the House of Lords, which is made up of unelected élites, and is therefore solidly anti-Brexit, the legislation was defeated fifteen times, and it came back to the Commons festooned with amendments designed to minimize the impact of leaving the E.U., or to stop the withdrawal from happening altogether. These included measures to abandon the government’s planned date of departure (currently March 29, 2019); to oblige the negotiators to try to keep Britain in the European Economic Area; and to give the House of Commons a “meaningful vote” on the final deal. The government, particularly its Brexiteer wing, regards these restrictions as, at best, nitpicky, and, at worst, a form of “deep state” sabotage of the whole endeavor. One of Brexit’s many perversities is that the same anti-E.U. politicians and newspapers that campaigned for years to return national sovereignty from Brussels to venerable institutions like the House of Commons, the House of Lords, and Britain’s Supreme Court now loathe them for daring to get involved in the small print. “Ignore the Will of the People at Your Peril,” the front page of the Daily Express read on the morning of the Commons debate. “You Have a Choice,” the Sun told the M.P.s. “Great Britain or Great Betrayal.”
On Tuesday, the challenge for May was to hold her party together sufficiently to vote down the Lords’ amendments and to keep the Brexit bill moving as swiftly as possible. I reached the Commons chamber around 1 P.M., just as the debate was getting going. Davis, or D.D., as he is known, was reading his opening statement from a large red binder, looking tired. The House of Commons is a tight space for its six hundred and fifty M.P.s, who sit squeezed together on long green benches with their tote bags and order papers. Since 2007, members have been allowed to use their mobile phones inside the chamber, and, when you go to watch, it can often feel like you are looking at hundreds of passengers on a train, scanning their devices and occasionally reacting badly, or with delight, to announcements from the driver. A single word, or turn of phrase, can set them off. During his speech, Davis defined what the government understands to be its “necessary” powers to conduct Brexit—a bone of contention in the debate. “ ‘Necessary’ is not a synonym for sensible, logical, or proper,” Davis said. “It means something that it is essential to do.” The Commons filled with harrumphing noises.
Both the Labour and Conservative Parties are divided over Brexit. Most Labour M.P.s wish Corbyn, a longtime critic of the E.U. from the left, would fight harder to keep Britain closely entwined with the bloc. But, for the Tories, Europe is their kryptonite, their ayahuasca, their witches’ brew. After Davis spoke, Kenneth Clarke, a rumpled Remainer, who was first elected as an M.P. forty-eight years ago, briefly argued with a fellow-Conservative, Bill Cash, best known in the Party for his fight against the Maastricht Treaty of 1992, which consolidated the E.U. “I thought my honorable friend and I had debated this quite long enough for everybody already,” Clarke said, the end of his collar sticking out from his jacket.
Clarke served as a cabinet minister for three Conservative Prime Ministers, and has been an old thorn in the government’s side since the referendum, urging it to slow down and to conclude an amicable deal with the E.U. The previous evening, May had exhorted her M.P.s to help speed her Brexit legislation through Westminster so as to avoid weakening her hand in the negotiations in Brussels. Clarke, in his speech, pointed out that the Europeans already know that Britain is divided. “I suspect that the feeling among those on the Continent at the moment is that they are utterly bewildered by the Anglo-Saxons, and that they have no idea what we think we are doing,” he said. While Clarke spoke, the Prime Minister, who is tall and somewhat stooped, quietly entered the chamber and came to sit in her place on the front bench. Next to her, Davis rested his head on the back of the bench and looked up at the ceiling.
It is impossible to tell, when witnessing Britain’s ungainly departure from the European Union, whether this is what history is supposed to look like—a fractious, crowded House of Commons; protesters on the street outside; threatening headlines in the tabloids; a national mood of boredom punctuated by sharp anxiety—or whether the whole thing is about to jump the rails. Most of the Conservative M.P.s who want the government to soften its approach on Brexit, and were therefore likely to bring about the bill’s defeat on Tuesday, were bunched in a corner at the back of the Commons chamber. At one point, one of their leaders, Anna Soubry, observed that a fellow-M.P. had recently needed the protection of six undercover police officers at a public event because of death threats. “That is the country that we have created, and it has got to stop,” she said. Earlier in the day, in a separate case, a twenty-three-year-old neo-Nazi had pleaded guilty, at the Old Bailey, to plotting to murder his local Labour M.P., with a machete. Two rows in front of Soubry sat a Conservative minister named Phillip Lee, who had announced his resignation that morning in order to oppose the government’s Brexit bill. “I cannot bring myself to vote for it in this bastion of liberty, freedom, and human rights,” he said. Fellow-rebels reached out and patted him on the back.
As the afternoon wore on, it became clear that there was one vote that would determine the fate of the rest. One of the great anxieties stalking the Brexit process has been what will happen if the U.K. and the E.U. are unable to come to any agreement at all. For months, M.P.s and the government have haggled over the role of Parliament in such an eventuality. And, on Tuesday afternoon, it appeared that May would struggle to defeat a killer amendment, tabled by the country’s former attorney general, Dominic Grieve, that would allow the M.P.s to direct the negotiations if the government fails to reach a deal by February 15th. As Grieve, an imposing, assured figure, rose to speak, the Party whips crouched and snuck up and down the Conservative benches, trying to shore up their vote. “I must tell the House that I really am worried,” Grieve said. “The irrationality of the debate on the details of Brexit is truly chilling.” He spoke for only a few minutes before the government began to offer concessions. Notes were passed down the benches. When Grieve finished, he and the rest of the Tory rebels in the corner filed out of the chamber and into May’s office.
They were gone for twenty minutes. The mood on the Conservative side of the Commons lightened when it seemed that May had found a way to win the rebels over, and to move the process along another inch. “I think we will just squeak it,” a Tory M.P. murmured to me in the lobby. While the chamber emptied out to vote, I found myself sitting next to an official from the German Embassy, who had recently started his posting in London and had come to the House of Commons to find out what the unstable British are up to. He explained that he and his team had been watching clips from the reality show “Love Island” to get their heads around the political situation. (Last weekend, Hayley Hughes, a twenty-one-year-old contestant on the show, admitted that she had no idea what Brexit was. “Does that mean we won’t have any trees?” she asked.) At 5:30 P.M., May’s government won the crucial vote. The rest of the Lords’ blocking amendments were also defeated, and Brexit lurched along. But the truce lasted only forty-eight hours. Last night, Grieve and the rest of the Conservative rebels announced that the compromise offered by May was “unacceptable” after all. Now the Commons debate will be rerun next Wednesday, with the same cast of characters, the same fixity of views, the same national predicament, and one fewer bargaining round available. “What a time to be alive,” Sarah Wollaston, a Tory M.P., tweeted last night. The waves keep coming. And they are getting higher.
Ya viene el Mundial (¡wuju!) y los restaurantes se alistan para recibir a la comunidad futbolera en su clímax. No es poca cosa. Los futboleros de corazón esperan ansiosos cuatro años para sacar su camiseta favorita y celebrar su máximo torneo.
De acuerdo con datos de la agencia de investigación de mercados Kantar TNS, 87% de los mexicanos va a seguir de cerca el Mundial.
¿Qué significa esto para tu cartera? Gasto social, muuuucho gasto social. Y es que aunque los partidos serán por la mañana, sabemos que nunca es demasiado temprano para reunirse con los amigos para ver el fut.
Ten cuidado, la euforia mundialera puede hacerte gastar de más sin darte cuenta. Si quieres dar rienda suelta a tu pasión sin excederte, aquí te dejamos algunas tips para ver el Mundial sin gastar de más.
Sabemos que cuando la emoción pega, pega. Y tu tarjeta es la que paga. Así que para evitar excederte cuando te agarre la emoción, lo que puedes hacer es dejar las tarjetas en casa y solamente cargar con efectivo. Ponte un presupuesto y llévate solo lo necesario.
Divide las cuentas por consumo personal
Cuando sales a comer con amigos es común que haya algún listillo por ahí que proponga dividir la cuenta global en partes iguales. Si tú eres de los/las que come poco, terminarás pagando de más. Lo ideal es que, al llegar al restaurante, le pidas al mesero que lleve las cuentas por separado. Si eso no es posible, entonces que al final cada quien pague lo suyo. Es lo justo.
¿Propina? Únicamente cuando quieras darla
Quizá te topes con algún lugar por ahí que todavía incluye la propina obligatoria y que crea que, al calor de la fiesta futbolera, no te darás cuenta. ¡Eso no está permitido! Evita que te metan un gol y revisa tus tickets. Deja propina únicamente cuando quieras dejarla. Y si notas abusos en establecimientos, acude a la Profeco.
Restaurantes de tradición sin pretensión
Cuando se trata de ir con amigos para ver el Mundial, los restaurantes deportivos son la opción más obvia, pero no te quedes siempre con los mismos y tampoco quieras ir siempre a los más caros. Recuerda que este tipo de lugares especializados pueden tener un ticket promedio por persona mayor al de un restaurante de comida más casual. Busca opciones y promociones.
Otra opción es organizarte con tus colegas para encargar los típicos chilaquiles que quedan cerca del trabajo. Sólo es cosa de ‘hacer la vaquita’ y encargarlos con tiempo. Esta es una opción barata, rica y súper eficiente porque evitarás llegar tarde por ver el fut. Tal y como Steve Jobs hubiera querido. (:
Por: Ilse Santa Rita
Ilse Santa Rita es periodista de finanzas y negocios con siete años de experiencia. Trabajó en el periodíco El Economista, en El Financier-Bloomberg y en Grupo Expansión, donde fue –en diferentes etapas– reportera de finanzas personales y de empresas. Actualmente encabeza el área de contenido de piggo.mx, de GBM Grupo Bursátil Mexicano. Escríbele a su correo firstname.lastname@example.org.
¿Qué es piggo? Es la app para alcanzar tus metas a través del ahorro. Simple, amigable y segura. #Vívete con piggo.
Two years this week I confessed to ELLE.com readers that I harbored a love for the young gay writer, cultural critic, and political commentator, Michael Arceneaux, which bordered on inappropriate. Inappropriate given that he is gay and my junior by a decade, and that I am a happily married, straight woman. It was the massacre of 49 people in Orlando’s Pulse nightclub that forced me to reflect on how easy it was to make Michael my safe date while forgetting how fragile safety is for people of color who live at the intersections of Southern and queer identities.
After that, “dating” Michael got more complicated, but I didn’t stop. Because I just can’t stop dating Michael Arceneaux.
Of course, dating me was not Michael’s problem. As he explains in the title of his forthcoming book, I Can’t Date Jesus: Love, Sex, Family, Race, and Other Reasons I’ve Put My Faith in Beyoncé, Michael Arceneaux’s challenge is that he can’t date Jesus.
Michael and I haven’t had a proper date in ages, so this conversation—about the book, his next book project, and why he doesn’t do “sad gay”—will do for now.
MHP: Why can’t you date Jesus?
Arceneaux: Because I plan to have sex. The title comes from a conversation I had with my mother, who is very religious. My mother understands that I was born gay—she does not think it was a choice to be gay—but she does believe it is a choice to act on it. My mother is very smart, thoughtful, and loving, but I find that religion can take the most intelligent parts of her and warp them. There is a theological argument to be had about being gay, but I have found that trying to have that argument with people who believe their religion is opposed to gay identity is too hard. It tends to dismantle too much of who they are as people. Easier to just clarify, “I plan to have sex, so I can’t date Jesus.”
MHP: I mean, that is clear, but I know you also thought about being a priest.
Arceneaux: For like one second. I met a black priest as a kid who said he saw something in my intellect and spirit that would make me a good priest. But that did not last. Not even a day. As a gay black man what I needed to be able to say was, “Your idea of God makes me not want to live.”
MHP: Ouch. Typically you neither talk nor write about your experiences in those terms. Do you remember what you told me when we first met?
Arceneaux: I don’t do sad gay.
MHP: Right. No sad gay. What does that mean for you?
I don’t want people to consume our suffering. I am not tragic. I don’t want to be pathology porn so I don’t write it.
Arceneaux: I don’t want to talk about pathology all the time. I want to talk about pleasure and fun and joy and sex. There is pressure in public space to force queer people to only discuss sex as trauma, disease, fear. But sex can be good. It can be ridiculous and hilarious. The same thing is going on with African American memoirs. Everyone wants us to lean into the saddest parts of ourselves and our communities and tell the world how awful it is to be black right now. I don’t want people to consume our suffering. I am not tragic. I don’t want to be pathology porn so I don’t write it.
MHP: This is one of my favorite sentences in your book—“I didn’t forget anything that happened, but making the conscious choice not to cling to the past as much was helpful.” It felt like you were giving us a methodology for avoiding the tragic memoir format.
Arceneaux: I try to tell the truth. I don’t avoid the hard parts of my life. There are hard parts.
MHP: It seems home was hard and is hard. You are from Houston and clearly have a complicated relationship with the city.
Arceneaux: I am rarely home but I am always repping. Going home is still painful for me. The wounds are real and the trauma opens again. But in other ways, Houston is everything. Being from Houston is an identity and I hope I never feel totally disconnected. If you are from Dallas—who cares? But Houston is just so black. It manages to be country and urban black at the same time. H-town is Beyoncé and UGK and Selena—all those things. I had to deal with family and school drama about being gay. The city’s blackness also meant I never felt limited in who I could be in my life. My dentist was black. My doctor was black.
These days I only go back in the summer, because the men look better in the summer. And damn, I love a country man. I miss places where I can see a black man in Jordans riding a horse down the street.
MHP: Amen! This brings me to your humor. As you point out, the black tragic is big business, but so is the gay clown. How do you ensure you are not the funny sidekick of your own story?
Arceneaux: I am definitely not a sidekick. Ever. I am the hero and I am funny.
MHP: You really are. I can’t stand it sometimes. Do you know I still check your Twitter feed every day for the morning jig?
Arceneaux: The jig is important. I never danced publicly until I came out. My dancing would give me away. Dancing publicly is freedom. The morning jig is a space to shake the stress, the armor. I don’t want to lean into being cranky and cynical. I turn on the music and dance to get into the space of hope. Smart. Funny. Ready.
MHP: Ready for what? What is next?
Arceneaux: Next is—make this book a best seller so I can pay off these student loans.
MHP: Your New York Times editorial about student loan debt is genius. My favorite line: “Every time I fork over another payment, I think about all of the other ways I could have financed my education. Why didn’t I take more part-time jobs? I was in Washington—why didn’t I try to date some closeted politician and be his well-compensated secret? Or spend more time at the campus gym and land a job stripping?”
Arceneaux: Good, because if this book is not the bestseller, I am working on the next one, and it is all about the difficulty of trying to be an adult while struggling with loans.
MHP: They will both bestsellers.
Arceneaux: From your lips to our God Beyoncé’s ears.
It’s unusual, to say the least, for an artist who has only released two songs to already have an army of online stans. That level of dedicated fandom takes time, often years, to cultivate. Mikaela Straus, better known by her moniker King Princess, knows that. And that’s why it’s slightly difficult for her to explain to me how she’s been dealing with her rising stardom since the release of her aching debut single, “1950.”
“I feel like I’m trying to handle [fame] with grace and just trying to sit close to the people I love and express how I feel about it,” she tells me over the phone. “If I’m freaking out, I now have people to talk about it to. Because it’s a lot. I don’t think anyone could have anticipated what ’1950′ was going to do, just streaming-wise. I mean, I feel very, very blessed and lucky. I think that everybody on my Instagram are lovely. These people are wonderful, like these kids… it’s just unconditional love, and it’s really sweet. That makes it a lot easier to transition into it, you know? Because I’ve got such a community around me, and I feel it.”
The track—which, even if you don’t recognize by name, you’ll definitely know by its infectious melody and hook—has been subtly seeping into playlists everywhere, following its release in February. The 19-year-old says she didn’t expect the song to blow up the way it did. And she definitely didn’t expect megastars like Harry Styles and Kourtney Kardashian to publicly co-sign her track, which now boasts over two million views on YouTube and over 13 million plays on Spotify. “It was pretty bumpin’ before then,” she says of Styles’ not-so-subtle lyrical shout-out on Twitter. “But when he did that, it also catapulted it into a new realm, you know?”
With the unwavering support of fans and loved ones behind her ahead of the release of her debut EP, Make My Bed (out today), Straus tells me she feels primed for success. “I feel ready as fuck. I’m like, ‘It’s game time,’” she says. “I feel super-proud of my team and myself, like I have an all-star MVP team. They’re so sweet and they love me, and I love them. It’s a very respectful, lovely relationship. I think that I’m as proud and happy for them as they are for me, and that makes me feel good.”
Spoken like a true King.
Stream Make My Bed and read our interview with the indie star, below.
What was your reaction when you saw all of Harry Styles fans jump on “1950?” I got, like, all the queer kids, which is fucking amazing, because I didn’t realize he had such a strong queer fanbase. But like, the fact that they were able to make the transition from his music to my music—and I would say that my music’s a little less accessible in some ways ’cause it’s so new and it’s so gay—but these kids, they were just so, I mean… he did a great thing. He did a really dope thing for me. Like it was unconditionally sweet, and I’m so appreciative. I’d love to, like, take him to dinner or something. Not that he needs it, but I would just do it [laughs].
Just to have a nice steak with Harry Styles. For the gesture, absolutely!
Who are some of your idols? I grew up listening to a lot of Nicki Minaj and Missy [Elliott] and the gals that came before Nicki. I listened to a lot of women in hip-hop. I think Cardi’s great, I loved her record. I try to listen to shit that’s way different than me. As far as looking up to artists that are in my kind of same general lane, I love Perfume Genius, I grew up listening to a lot of Jack White, I love St. Vincent. You know, there’s so many people, so many great artists out there. I love to listen to music when it’s nostalgic, like that’s favorite one thing to do, is like listen to old shit and feel like take reference from it just because so few people do that now.
Who would be your dream roommate, living or dead? I would pick Cate Blanchett. Like, maybe it could blossom into something more [laughs].
I’m still crying about those photos with Kristen Stewart. I have photos of her all around my apartment anyway, it wouldn’t be any different. We’d talk about her theater endeavors and her films, like, it would be fun. I feel like, I don’t know, I’d support her.
What is your favorite travel music? Currently, I would say “Chun Li” as a song. I don’t drive, but whenever I’m with my friends driving, I’m like, “Put it on.”
What kind of person were you in high school? In the beginning, I was fem. I was one of those girls who got to high school and was like, “Oh, I’m hot now.” Like, “All I want is dick,” for, like, the first six months. And, then I was like, “Wait, that’s not gonna work, I’m super-gay.”
I just came into myself when I moved and grew up. I definitely didn’t know I was a genderqueer person when I was young. I didn’t have the vocabulary for it. I knew that it was a thing, I just didn’t have the vocabulary to describe what I was feeling.
Being a queer artist, do you feel any pressure to represent the queer community? I think that the most important thing that I like to remember is that I am not an all-important member of this community. Like, I would love to be a voice of representation, but I am not the voice of representation. There are people who have different identities that I don’t cover that need to be represented. So, for me, it’s like, I think that when people feel pressured by the idea of representing an entire community, the flaw is the bad sentence in itself. Like, you don’t need to represent an entire community, but I would like to be a positive voice for what I believe in, and I feel super-proud. I think that the pressure for me, I try to approach it from a place of like, “I’m gonna be myself,” and if that’s what works for representing parts of the queer community, then I’m set. And so far, it’s been so cool.
I ask that because, before I prepped for this interview, I was thinking about Lakeith Stanfield during the Academy Awards, and how he said that he is tired of people asking him about diversity in film, instead of maybe asking him about his actual performance or stuff like that. I thought about how annoying that must be all the time. Like, me myself as a minority, I don’t wanna be the token representation or feel the pressure of representing just one part of me. I don’t feel like a token, but I do feel and think that I have a really important role that I’m stepping into. But, I also know that there is so much room for people who are beyond me, who are of different identities and different backgrounds who have yet to be represented in this community or in this fucking industry. So, I’m like, I would love to provide, I always say like, this path. Right now, we have this open path, I feel. People are hungry, people are hungry for music and good shit and authenticity. And, I think that this a perfect time for the queer community to just bust the fuck in.
Where do you hope to be in your career in the next five years? Oh my god, like, literally with so many albums. Just like so many albums, writing, living the damn life, living with Cate Blanchett. I definitely feel in the next five years I’d love to have a bunch of records I’m super fucking proud of. I’d love to start working more as a producer for other people, especially young women. I’d love to work with some young gals and, like, be a positive voice in a session, where I can be like, “Yeah, you know you can do exactly what you want and not what anyone else wants.” That’d be fire.
Another new song from the back catalog Lil Peep left behind before his tragic passing in November 2017 has been released. “Sex With My Ex” was quietly uploaded to streaming services last night – give it a listen below.
“Sex With My Ex” comes on the heels of last month’s release of “4 Gold Chains”, a collaboration with producer Clams Casino. Both Lil Peep’s family and his former colleagues have hinted at planning a full posthumous album of unreleased material, though no official details have yet to materialize.
Revisit our interview and editorial with Lil Peep, the final profile before his passing, right here.
In other new releases, Death Grips have shared their promised collaboration with ‘Shrek’-director Andrew Adamson. Listen to “Dilemma”.
Más de treinta años han pasado desde el estreno de Dirty Dancing y nadie ha conseguido olvidar la historia de Baby y Johnny, su verano en Kellerman’s y esos bailes que permanecen en la retina de todos. Y ahora que los ochenta y los noventa están más presentes que nunca en las tendencias que seguimos… no podían faltar ellos. Sí, Dirty Dancing ha llegado a la moda. A la moda low cost, para ser más exactos. Y por partida doble. Bershka y HM han sorprendido con dos diseños casi idénticos para las más fans. ¿Con cuál nos quedamos?
Camiseta de «Dirty Dancing» de HM (9,99 euros)
Pues la decisión es complicada, teniendo en cuenta que las dos firmas han elegido exactamente la misma imagen de la película (el comienzo de ese baile final inolvidable) y la misma tipografía para el título (la del cartel original de la cinta). En el caso de la camiseta de Bershka, el motivo es más grande, está centrado y con el título superpuesto. La camiseta de HM, por su parte, da más protagonismo al título y añade, además, el lema «First time. First love. The time of your life». Por lo demás, las camisetas son blancas, de corte holgado y… ¡prácticamente iguales!
Camiseta de «Dirty Dancing» de Bershka (12,99 euros)
Claro que hay algunos datos que facilitan la decisión. La talla, por ejemplo. En el caso de Bershka, está disponible en la XS, S, M y L; en HM, encontraremos, además, la XL. Y el precio, claro. Mientras que Bershka vende la prenda por 12,99 euros, en HM podemos adquirirla por solo 9,99. Sea cual sea la elegida, lo que es indudable es que ahora tenemos más fácil que nunca decir eso de «no permitiré que nadie te arrincone» vestidas para la ocasión.
Imágenes | HM y Bershka.
En Trendencias | Stradivarius lanza una colección de camisetas feministas y deja muy claro que «no es no»
Texas Armoring Corporation CEO Trent Kimball took fire from behind the wheel of a Mercedes-Benz upgraded with the company’s bulletproof technology to prove their armored cars are impenetrable.
The executive barely flinched as a colleague unloaded 12 deadly rounds from an AK-47. Each was stopped cold by a two-inch thick windshield.
The video went viral on Twitter, racking up thousands of retweets and likes in days.
Business Insider has further details on how the San Antonio-based business outfits different vehicles:
To fit the armoring they take each car apart piece by piece, then cover each area in military grade armor.
The fuel tank is coated in ballistic nylon and many other parts are wrapped in steel. Special run-flat tires are fitted and the vehicle is reassembled.
The Texas Armoring Corporation will bulletproof your ride against pistol rounds for a minimum of $55,000. For a heftier sum of $425,000, you can get James Bond-levels of protection with a siren, strobe lights, electroschock door handles and a smoke screen.