The Cut - Normani, On Her Own Time

On an April afternoon in West Adams, a historically Black neighborhood in South Los Angeles, Normani emerges from a dressing room after several hours of fittings, swathed in cream and white. Andrea, her camo-clad mother, flits about the day’s photo-shoot set like a self-appointed creative director, checking screens to offer sporadic affirmations — “Oh, that’s good, Mani” — or candid styling suggestions — “Push her undies down so they aren’t showing!” The air is thick with banjos and Beyoncé shrieks. Lately, Normani has been listening to just two things: Cowboy Carter, presently playing in full for the second time this afternoon, and Dopamine, her long-delayed debut album set to release on June 14. Despite the throng of people assembled behind the monitor, Normani seems relatively at ease. She’s used to being looked at, after a decade in the spotlight, but is hyperconscious of the ways in which she is perceived. When unsure about a particular look or pose, she might ask, a few times, to see the image. When she feels good, she parts her lips, softens her expression, and tips her head toward the light.

People who disrespect national parks and the wildlife they house really are the worst. But there’s also some good news on the national-park front! A little girl said she could hear monsters in her bedroom. It was actually 60,000 bees. Dating app Bumble is ditching its USP and will allow men to make the first move. These maps show where dangerous summer heat is most likely to happen in the U.S. And Dave & Buster’s is going to allow adults to gamble on arcade games. What could possibly go wrong?

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