Zara Hanawalt
Stop whispering, start talking: sharp, sassy takes on life in a female body.
The 'Iced Coffee at a Job Interview' Debate is (Obviously) Not About Iced Coffee
There's a debate that has set the internet on fire, and it's all about iced coffee at a job interview.
It all started when a recruiter made a video about certain unprofessional behaviors she's observed among Gen Z job seekers. "My Gen Z candidates are showing up to the interviews with iced coffee, iced lattes in hand," she said.
And the Internet went wild.
Many people find it absolutely revelatory that you probably shouldn't roll up to a job interview with a drink. Others are on the side of..."yeah of course? It's about decorum?".
It is, to some extent, shaping up to be a Millennial vs. Gen Z argument, and as a Millennial, I tend to side with my side on this one: I think walking in to a job interview with any type of drink feels too casual for a setting that commands a certain level of formality. Some people feel there's an element of misogyny at play because iced coffee tends to be popular among the girlies, and...okay, maybe there's something there? Others argue that people of color typically have the situational awareness needed to see why this isn't something you should do, I'd agree: As minorities, we know that it's so easy to discredit us, so we take these standards of behavior seriously.
Of course, none of this is really about iced coffee. It's about social awareness and decorum and professionalism — and it's also about an obvious shift in all these things. In a post-Covid world, I think we've just lost touch with these intricacies of human behavior. And that's why Gen Z is reacting so differently to this: They didn't have the luxury of experiencing early adulthood in person. We're spending so much time on our devices, it's affecting how we show up in the world and our ability to perceive situations.
The question is, what do we do about this? How do we maintain intergenerational connections and alliance for the sake of our future? I think we do it by trying to understand why this is happening in the first place. Social norms can and should change over time, but situational awareness...that matters. Our ability to asses without rules being explicitly communicated to us matters.
Many people are calling out the "unwritten rules" around things like not bringing food or drink (yes, that includes iced coffee) to an interview and...yeah. That's kind of the point; we should be able to apply a level of judgement to these situations. We should be able to understand that the energy we bring to a job interview is different than the energy we bring to hang out with our friends, yet in a social media-driven world, this type of nuance is getting lost. People argue that they don't want to a job if they can't bring a coffee to the office. What they fail to realize is that an interview is not the same as showing up to work, just like a casual brunch is not the same as a wedding. Different situations demand different approaches...and we can't afford to lose sight of that.
Netflix's 'The Best of The Best' Delivers More Than Just Representation and Yes, You Should Watch It
When I first heard about Netflix's new release, The Best of The Best, I immediately knew I'd be tuning in as soon as the movie dropped. The movie is, after all, about a college Bollywood-fusion dance team, and as a South Asian American woman (who also grew up competing on Indian dance teams), I welcomed the type of representation that's so hard to come by.
It's a representation I never, ever had growing up. In Western media, nobody looked like me. In the Bollywood movies I watched with my family, even if the actors resembled me, their lived experiences didn't match what I was facing as a South Asian woman in the United States.
That's why The Best of the Best feels so important. It's not the only South Asian American representation we have, but it's quite possibly the first real coming of age movie about this experience (Bend Like Beckham was, for decades, the closest we had — and it was set in London rather than the US). What this movie does beautifully is touch on the intricacies of the South Asian American experience without veering too hard into stereotypes. It doesn't do this perfectly, as many are pointing out. But hot take: I think that's okay.
The movie is about two best friends, Maya and Anjali, who are (to some degree) forced into the smart friend/pretty friend dichotomy. At first, this felt a little bit frustrating to me. And as many people have pointed out, framing the stunning Maitreyi Ramakrishnan as the "undesirable friend" is wild, as is the idea that the other woman in the movie, who doesn't fit the standard of intellect South Asians are often held to is "dumb" (though, as a South Asian woman, I think there's a specific understanding of how you can be beautiful, confident, and intelligent, but if you don't fit this highly specific mold, you're not considered good enough).
While watching this particular dynamic play out, I had this sense of "ugh, we're doing this thing where we put women into binary boxes again?".
But then I had to ask myself: Would you have been this critical if this were a movie about people who have historically been represented in media? This trope is nothing new — yet when it comes to stories about marginalized, underrepresented groups, we're always shoving them under a microscope. But representation done imperfectly is better than no representation at all...and maybe playing into those old binaries is what makes this movie feel universal.
I'm going to say it: You don't need to have any familiarity with South Asian culture to enjoy this movie. It's about our experience, but it really frames the experience in such a way that people see the reality: South Asian Americans aren't some fringe group. We're people who have the same hopes, fears, goals, insecurities as anyone else. We're messy and imperfect, like everybody else. We struggle with identity and long to fit in, just like everybody else.
And in its imperfect glory, The Best of The Best delivers this.
Ask Clara:
"Why is racial representation so important?"
Does Every Woman Have a Love/Hate Relationship With Her Jeans or is it Just Me?
There are few things as satisfying as coming home and immediately taking off your jeans. We can (pretty much) all agree on that, right? That switch from denim to sweats? It's heavenly.
Recently, someone shared with me that she actually doesn't do this — she lounges around her house in jeans all the time. Like...she'll watch TV with a pair of hard pants on. This got me thinking: Are there people out there who actually find jeans...comfortable?
Personally, I would always take sweats, leggings, or even a breezy dress over jeans in terms of pure comfort. But now I'm wondering: Is this just a me thing? Is it a sign that I care more about the size on the tag than I do about how I feel in my clothing? And if that's true...am I going against everything I advocate for right here on this very column?
I guess I always assumed that jeans were just one of those things that everyone had a bit of a love/hate relationship with. We like the way they look, the structure they give an outfit, but not the way they feel. Maybe, despite one woman's assertion that she finds denim pants comfortable enough to lounge in (diabolical, IMO), everyone finds jeans low-key uncomfortable.
But if that's still true, I've got to ask: Were jeans just not built for women's bodies? Have we been forcing ourselves into this item of clothing that was never built with our proportions in mind, only to be told this item is a standard, an essential, a wardrobe staple?
Because let's face it, jeans often fall into one of two categories: They either fit you great visually, yet squeeze when you sit down, restrict your movement, and generally make you feel like you can't fully relax...or they feel relatively comfortable, but bag out and just don't look as...ugh, okay fine I'm going to say the word: Flattering.
Listen, if you've stuck with me this long, thank you. I can't believe I'm doing all this about whether jeans are comfortable or not, but bare with me. There's a point i'm trying to make. At least I think there is.
And that point? It's that jeans (like so many other things), weren't made with women's bodies and needs and comfort in mind. We've been conditioned to think we are the problem, but maybe the problem is that an item of clothing with so much structure, where fit is of the essence, ought to executed with a real understanding of how a woman's body is shaped. And it kind of feels like...they're just not. More often than not, jeans just don't quite feel like they were made for us.
Let's face it: Women's bodies are far more complex, more nuanced than men's. I've never heard a man say jeans are uncomfortable, or that they feel too tight in certain places and too loose in others, or that they gap in the waist or don't fit right on their bloated days, for example.
Jeans, the way they're made, the way they look vs the way they feel, the way we've been conditioned to prioritize the former over the latter when we shop for them...it all means something.
Ask Clara:
"Do most women have body image issues?"
The Double Standards of Parenting and Domestic Labor are so Real
As a journalist who covers women's health and parenting, I am very, very well aware of how deeply rooted the double standards between men and women in our society are. They're everywhere, of course, from the dating world to the workforce and beyond. Today, I'm reflecting on how they show up in the home,
But first, a little background: My husband travels pretty frequently for work, which means I hold it down at home while he's gone. I take care of our two kids, I cook meals, I clean up, I make lunches, I facilitate homework, I maintain the activity schedule, and I continue working on my career while he's gone. And I do it largely alone (for context, my kids are in elementary school). I'm not saying this to boast about how I ~do it all~ (I don't!); it's just the reality of our situation.
This week, I had planned to leave town to be there for my family during an emergency. Before I left, the requests to help my husband started pouring in: People were offering up meals, rides for our kids, babysitting, and more. I even had multiple relatives offer to fly across the country to come help care for our kids.
Do I appreciate all the offers of support? Absolutely! We are blessed to have people who want to help prop up my family during hard times.
But I also can't help but notice how different the reactions are when I am the one at home holding down the fort. When I parent alone for days at a time, nobody seems to wonder how the meals will get cooked, or how the kids will get where they need to be, or how I'll manage to care for them while working. Yet when my husband — a very, very capable father (who honestly might be better than I am in the kitchen these days) — is left to manage things at home? People seem to suddenly feel it's too much to take on.
My point here isn't that we should support men less, or stop offering to help families through challenging times. It's that we ought to think about how different the expectations are of women, and how much women are expected to do without offers of support or help.
The Double Standards of Parenting and Domestic Labor are so Real
As a journalist who covers women's health and parenting, I am very, very well aware of how deeply rooted the double standards between men and women in our society are. They're everywhere, of course, from the dating world to the workforce and beyond. Today, I'm reflecting on how they show up in the home,
But first, a little background: My husband travels pretty frequently for work, which means I hold it down at home while he's gone. I take care of our two kids, I cook meals, I clean up, I make lunches, I facilitate homework, I maintain the activity schedule, and I continue working on my career while he's gone. And I do it largely alone (for context, my kids are in elementary school). I'm not saying this to boast about how I ~do it all~ (I don't!); it's just the reality of our situation.
This week, I had planned to leave town to be there for my family during an emergency. Before I left, the requests to help my husband started pouring in: People were offering up meals, rides for our kids, babysitting, and more. I even had multiple relatives offer to fly across the country to come help care for our kids.
Do I appreciate all the offers of support? Absolutely! We are blessed to have people who want to help prop up my family during hard times.
But I also can't help but notice how different the reactions are when I am the one at home holding down the fort. When I parent alone for days at a time, nobody seems to wonder how the meals will get cooked, or how the kids will get where they need to be, or how I'll manage to care for them while working. Yet when my husband — a very, very capable father (who honestly might be better than I am in the kitchen these days) — is left to manage things at home? People seem to suddenly feel it's too much to take on.
My point here isn't that we should support men less, or stop offering to help families through challenging times. It's that we ought to think about how different the expectations are of women, and how much women are expected to do without offers of support or help.
Who Even Has Time to Grieve?
Earlier this week, my family experienced a major loss. The kind of loss that shifts everything. The kind that makes you realize that even the best laid plans are subject to change. The kind that makes you look at the past, the present, and the future differently. The kind that makes you realize life is too damn short.
But experiencing in a loss in 2026 — especially when you're a mom and card-carrying member of the sandwich generation who also happens to be juggling a career and many other responsibilities — doesn't just put into perspective how short life is. It also makes you realize how cluttered it is.
Over the past few days, I've been trying to find corners of time for my grief...and I'm weighing how much I can put off right now, and how much I have no choice but to tackle immediately.
Feeding my kids? Something that can't wait.
Emailing their teachers to let them know they may seem off in the next few days? Something that can't wait.
Making travel plans, which includes coordinating an emergency passport renewal and a Visa? Something that can't wait.
Finalizing some commitments I've made to to my kids' school? Things that can't wait, but can be delegated.
My work? Some if it can wait, but even for those things that can be put off, there are things that need to be set in place and people who need to be notified. When you're self-employed, it's not as simple as taking some PTO.
It's not just me. So many of us are experiencing this...and feeling like grief is something we have to schedule, rather than just...sit in. We can't control life, yet we're operating in a system that tells us we need to have everything under control. Speaking of that system, it's eye-opening to see how much of it doesn't account for the fact that sometimes, life is just...life-ing.
I am traveling to go be with my extended family, but my kids can't come with me; they're only allowed to miss a certain number of school days each year. I don't have to take PTO for my job, but most people do...and that doesn't account for the fact that life's emergencies don't always fit neatly into an allotted amount of time. And then there's all the other stuff: The need to go over my kids' schedule with my husband before leaving town. The need to coordinate his schedule so he can solo parent while I am gone. The need to field calls and texts and answer questions and respond to everything. It's a lot. And since this is the loss of an extended family member, not an immediate family member, I'm not even the one making the most crucial calls or feeling the most intense grief.
This whole experience is making me question why we are expected to live this way...and how hard it is to realize that many us can't even afford to grieve.
Ask Clara:
"How does grief show up in day-to-day life?"
Why Everyone is so Mad About Sydney Sweeney's Newest Ad
Last year, women's sports really had a moment. We all suddenly realized we hadn't been paying enough attention (and that the systems that pay athletes hadn't been paying nearly enough money) to female athletes and their athletic achievements and events. Thanks to this shift, people finally began to take women in sports more seriously.
Unfortunately, a new Sydney Sweeney ad is moving things in the wrong direction. The ad, which is for sports predicting market Novig, is hyper sexualized, to say the least. In it, Sweeney poses nude and covers her body with various sports equipment (think basketballs and football pads). She makes a few comments about how this service is all about "sports"...and so many people, especially women, have been rubbed the wrong way by this.
Women have historically struggled to be taken seriously in the world of sports — not just professional athletes, but all the way down to young girls who play at school or in rec leagues. Why does Sweeney's ad take us in the wrong direction? Because it leans into the idea that the value of women's bodies lies in the way they look, not in what they can do. Juxtaposed by the sports equipment used as props to add to the male gaze-i-ness of the images, this just feeds into that narrative.
Female athletes are sharing why this feels personally insulting. For example: One woman pointed that even now, when she mentions that she's a gymnast, people's first response is often "oh, so you're flexible?" in a suggestive way.
Listen, this doesn't all fall on Sydney Sweeney — though, let's not forget...she has a history of starring in ads that miss the mark. Obviously, there's a team behind the scenes that came up with the concept for the sake of shock factor and, again, fulfillment of the male gaze. But let's not pretend she isn't complicit here.
Some argue that we applaud some women for owning their sexuality and choosing to pose nude, and yeah. It's a fine line between what lands correctly and what simply doesn't.
Here's the thing: Sweeney's ad isn't just about the skin she shows or the suggestiveness of her poses. It's about the larger concept...and the way it disregards all the progress female athletes have made.
Ask Clara:
"What barriers do female athletes face?"
The Wellness Industry is Booming. Why Are We Surprised?
I recently came across a brilliant post on Instagram. In it, creator Jess Britvich calls out wellness influencers for constantly fearmongering about "big pharma", all while selling their audiences both ideas and products as alternative solutions.
She's right: Influencers and wellness brands make money — lots of money — by exploiting the rising fear and distrust people feel towards medical institutions. But here's my hot take: A huge part of why they're able to exploit that distrust is because that distrust is already well-established.
So many of the people who distrust medical institutions don't do so because wellness influencers convinced them to. They distrust medical institutions because they've felt failed by them. They've experienced medical gaslighting. They've been taken advantage of by a broken system. They've been ignored, dismissed, and more...and so they turn to the places where guidance doesn't come with a co-pay or a long wait or a healthcare provider who rushes through an appointment. They turn to the internet.
And on the internet, information — or, more often, misinformation — is everywhere. The thing is, even for someone with a solid base of knowledge, it can be impossible to untangle the two. A wellness influencer may rave about a product that worked for them, and you may ask a qualified professional about the validity of said product...and that professional may tell you there's no evidence to support the effectiveness. and while that's true, a lack of current evidence doesn't mean it won't or can't work.
This gap — the space between or need for solutions and answers and the availability of those answers and our own access to information — that's where wellness BS thrives. And clearly, it's a gap large enough to fit an entire industry worth billions.
So what are we supposed to do? It's complicated.
I think we need to start by understanding that health and wellness are different things. We need to remember that even when medical experts feel inaccessible, they still hold more knowledge than a wellness influencer. We ought to always keep in mind that if a provider is making us feel unheard, gaslit, or dismissed, it doesn't mean every other professional will do the same. We can always find a new doctor.
And we can apply a level of discernment to the things we see online. Sure, there may be no evidence to support the effectiveness of something that works really well for us on a lifestyle level (like this little guy? a gamechanger for my migraines). Ultimately, though, we're better off seeking out credible answers and solutions rather than believing everything we see online.
What Does it Actually Mean to be a Good Wife?
Somehow, I found myself on the side of TikTok that features "high-effort wife" content. Here, women proudly go above and beyond for their husbands. Think: Waking up at 4 am to make and pack their lunch. Laying out their clothes every morning. Making all the appointments so their partners don't have to think about it. Handling all the cleaning, cooking, household shopping.
To this, a few creators have responded to say it's "weird" that these women are treating their husbands like...well, children. And those creators? Well, they're being eviscerated. Others online are calling them bad wives, questioning if they even like their husbands.
But here's my take: Why are we so quick to question whether a wife actually likes her husband, and so hesitant to question whether a husband actually likes, respects, and cares for his wife?
If you want to pack your partner a lunch or go above and beyond, I think that's great. I love doing things for my partner too! But here's what I want to call out: Why do we think women need to exhaust themselves in order to be considered "good" to the people in their lives? Waking up in the wee hours of the morning just so you can pack a lunch, for example? Handling all the chores at home? That sounds exhausting.
I asked my own husband if he would even like it if I woke up to make him breakfast and/or lunch on the days he wakes up super early to travel for work, and just as I expected, he said no. He would rather I stay asleep and be well rested.
Now listen. I'm not a morning person, so that's why I won't be doing some of the specific "high-effort" stuff these ladies are calling out. Maybe some of them are actually awake super early and genuinely want to do this stuff. I don't know.
What I'm more concerned with is the policing of what makes someone a "good wife". Just like the "good mother" ideal, it needs to be unpacked. Because contrary to what these narratives suggest, there are so many ways to be "high effort" as a partner, good to your spouse, and a loving wife that don't involve performing constant domestic labor....and literally losing sleep to do so.
Ask Clara:
"Do women take on more household labor?"
The Forgotten Piece of Gloria Steinem's Feminism
Last week, Gloria Steinem, feminist icon, died at 92. It's yet another crushing loss of 2026.
In the wake of Steinem's death, social media has lit up with tributes to her legacy. But here's a piece of that legacy we often neglect to honor: Steinem's version of feminism has always included respect for care work, and an insistence that the rest of the world finally sit up and take notice of the social and economic value of this work.
On social media, there's a real distortion of what feminism truly is. Many say they aren't feminists because they don't want to work; they "just" want to be moms. My take? Focusing on motherhood doesn't make you any less of a feminist. What does, in my view, make you less of one? Playing into the constant cultural and systemic devaluation of care work — the work women have historically shouldered.
Steinem never had children of her own, yet she understood how essential it is to support mothers. Because ultimately, it's not just about motherhood: It's about caregiving. Caregivers in the United States are routinely under-supported. We lack paid leave, affordable childcare (and accessible elder care), economic value assigned to care work (yes, it is work), and cultural recognition of caregiving. Many people view feminism as anti-family, when in reality, causes that support caregivers are inherently feminist because they help women most of all.
Gloria Steinem, the obvious face of the feminist movement, often hailed as the mother of feminism, is proof of this. We often forget this part of her legacy, but she routinely championed caregivers. She partnered with maternal activism organizations. She spoke, loudly and openly, about the need for economic recognition of care work. She lived the caregiver experience as a caregiver to her mother...and she paid it forward. She worked to create a version of feminism that honored family life, not lured people away from it, as some like to suggest.
To truly honor her legacy, we must remember this.
Ask Clara:
"What is the economic value of caregiving?"