Eleanor Margolis is a freelance journalist, whose "Lez Miserable" column appears weekly on the New Statesman website.
I hand her the bottle and watch her do a drug in the most Jewish mother way imaginable. That is to say – with the utmost suspicion.
It’s ok, Kate Middleton’s brother is here for all your pointless confectionary needs.
There’s so much irony in Bowie being appointed king of the outcasts. When the coolest guy in the world is an outsider, what’s an insider?
The best kind of predictions.
It’s actually quite scary.
In a proudly low budget production, soundtracked by an instrumental version of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas”, a middle aged woman says, “I’m bisexual and I always find something I love at Robert Dyas”.
Either the “US presidential hopeful” is Tilda Swinton in a very convincing skin suit, or we’re all doomed.
If the film was made in a more utopian 2003, this is what it would have looked like.
The upcoming Cate Blanchett vehicle, Carol, is already being feted as a lesbian blockbuster. I should be excited, and yet it just makes me feel sweaty.
The evolution of racial, homophobic and transphobic slurs is a good insight into the uncomfortable relationship between prejudice and language.
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