The origin of Nick Jonas and Priyanka Chopra’s relationship is still a mystery. We know they first connected at the 2017 Met Gala and, after a whirlwind Labor Day weekend in 2018 that included baseball games, concerts, and boat hang-outs with Chord Overstreet, got engaged. But how did this union go from 0 to 100 so quickly? Well, according to a new interview Chopra did with Entertainment Tonight, it started with a text message—a hilariously formal one.
“I actually didn’t make the first move,” Chopra told the network at a Bumble event in New York City on Monday (October 29). “He did. He texted me. The first time was a text just saying, ‘I think we should connect’ and whatever. That’s how we started talking.”
Wait, wait, wait: “I think we should connect?” That was Nick Jonas’ opening line? Who is he? A sweaty intern at a networking event passing out his résumé to strangers in suits? In my mind, he followed up this stuffy message with something like, “Just circling back on the whole ‘connecting’ thing. I’ve CCed my brothers, Kevin and Joe, for good measure.” Did he include an electronic signature with his text, too? “Nick Jonas: actor, singer, supporter of bacon.” Or maybe it’s just his initials: “NJ.” That’s what cool business people do, right?
Watch Chopra explain this for yourself, below:
Jonas’ buttoned-up opening line is a far cry from the romantic way he found Chopra’s engagement ring. The “Chains” singer shut down an entire Tiffany & Co. store! Granted, Chopra wasn’t there, but the gesture in itself is pretty magnificent. That’s certainly my idea of “connecting.”
Here’s a fact: Americans aren’t that enthusiastic about voting in midterm elections. And the numbers prove it. When compared to presidential elections—which can feel more high-profile and dramatic—midterm election turnout is pretty, well, lousy.
Almost 74 million women and 64 million men voted in the 2016 presidential election, according to data crunched by the Center for American Women and Politics. That came out to about 63 percent of eligible female voters, versus just over 59 percent of males. In comparison, only 43 percent of eligible women and barely 41 percent of men reported voting in the 2014 midterms, per CAWP. It was the worst turnout in decades—remarkably weak even in a country whose off-year voting is typically low.
But will this year’s midterms be different? Everyone seems to be pulling out all the stops to get voters to the polls on Nov. 6. And women are at the center of attention this election season—not just because they clinched a historic number of nominations for the House, Senate, and governor. As Page Gardner of the non-profit Voter Participation Center tells Glamour, “If Democrats win the House, women will bring them there,” and specifically, “unmarried women will have a big, big, big, piece of that story.” (Married women, as NPR has noted, have been shown to vote Republican more than singles.)
Women are also the group to watch because they have voted more than men for decades. And there are certain groups of women who are traditionally reliable voters. Older women vote more than younger, for example. Black women have notably shown their clout at the polls: Democratic National Committee Chairman Tom Perez personally thanked them for their role in 2017 wins in special elections in Alabama and Virginia.
But what makes would-be voters (yes, even women) stay away from the polls? The political climate and the players seem to matter: A Pew analysis of the 2016 election found that overall, 25 percent of people who didn’t vote said they didn’t like the candidates or issues. Another 15 percent lacked interest or felt their vote wouldn’t matter. Nearly as many, 14 percent, said they were too busy with work or school to cast a ballot. (One apparent issue: A 2016 study found younger voters three to four times likelier to have to wait in line to vote than Baby Boomers; the likelihood was higher for African-Americans and Latinos.)
“The sad reality is, in midterm elections, you typically see a depressed turnout — especially among groups that are sort of stretched and less likely to turn out anyway.”
As that lousy turnout in 2014 indicates, “The sad reality is, in midterm elections, you typically see a depressed turnout — especially among groups that are sort of stretched and less likely to turn out anyway,” says Marissa McBride, VPC’s executive director. Notably, McBride pointed out that whether single, separated, divorced, or widowed, “Unmarried women [are now] the majority of head of households. A lot of them work two or three jobs, so the idea they’re going to stand in line for two hours or miss work or are not going to be able to pick their kid up on time [in order] to vote — it’s just not a reality in their lives.”
So, for a lot of women, it’s not just a lack of enthusiasm or interest. Life can get in the way.
Christy McCormick, vice chairwoman of the federal Election Assistance Commission, told Glamour in an interview earlier this year how single women can see voting as critical in theory, but burdensome in practice: “When you are the single person [that’s] responsible for everything and you don’t have back-up, as married people do, it’s just another thing to add to the list… which is a shame, because it really is important for all of us to have a voice in our government.”
But, the tide may turn this election cycle. There’s titanic effort going into overcoming some of those obstacles that make it hard to vote—especially in low-profile races that don’t garner as much attention as salacious presidential elections—from coast-to-coast. Here are a few examples of that effort (and how you can get involved):
March on the Polls with…a Mariachi band: A joint project of progressive groups March On and Swing Left seeks to capitalize on the political passions that sparked the Women’s March—and got hotter during the confirmation of Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh. “Women in this country have been saying ‘no’ in the streets—now we are saying it with our ballot,” March On Executive Director Vanessa Wruble said in a statement to Glamour. In Texas, Mariachi bands are leading people to early voting sites. In South Carolina, it’s marches to post offices to mail absentee ballots. A Facebook call to action in Trump’s hometown, New York, says Election Day plans can go from “serving coffee and donuts to creating a mini-parade… Have a marching band? Stilt walkers? It’s all up to you.”
Providing childcare: Childcare can be an issue for women voters, and groups from the YMCA to Care In Action, the political arm of the National Domestic Workers Alliance, are offering to keep an eye on the kids so moms can get to the polls.
Getting a ride to the polls: Uber is collaborating with the nonprofit groups #VoteTogether and Democracy Works to offer free rides to voters with limited access to transportation, as well as adding a “Get to the Polls” locator feature for app users.
Pushing for paid time off: Groups like ElectionDay.org are campaigning to convince businesses to offer their U.S. employees paid time off to vote. Already on board: Patagonia, Pinterest, Giphy, Dropbox, and Levi’s, to name a few. When it comes to giving workers excused absences, companies already “have to do it when people get jury duty, and they figure it out, so they can figure it out for one day [and] give people the opportunity to vote without having to be overly stressed about getting the kids to school and being late and missing an hour,” Levi’s Chief Marketing Officer Jey Sey, a mom of four, told Glamour.
Bring on the Merch: In another example of voting encouragement meeting entrepreneurship, Sara Berliner’s “Vote Like a Mother” gear caters to “time-strapped parents looking for a way to amplify their voice and make change,” with profits directed to organizations such as MomsRising, Moms Demand Action, and EMILY’s List. Shirts have been spotted on politically engaged celebrities such as Julianne Moore and Alec Baldwin.”
But even with these efforts voting rights advocates are deeply worried that busy schedules may not be all that keeps Americans from the polls. And that’s something to be on the lookout for:
Voter suppression: In Georgia, where Democrat Stacey Abrams is battling Republican Brian Kemp to become the nation’s first black governor, the ACLU and other groups have gone to court with claims of discrimination against minority voters who sent in absentee ballots by mail. The lawsuits got filed after election administrators—including Kemp, who also oversees voting as Georgia’s secretary of state—rejected hundreds of ballots because they weren’t an “exact match” for information on the voter rolls, such as birthdate or signature.
Political bullying: And then, there’s messaging from the nation’s leaders. With the 2018 midterms being a major referendum on President Donald Trump’s policies and performance, he’s using his favorite bully pulpit, Twitter, to send an ominous message: “All levels of government and Law Enforcement are watching carefully for VOTER FRAUD, including during EARLY VOTING. Cheat at your own peril,” he warned. “Violators will be subject to maximum penalties, both civil and criminal!” It’s not out of character—Trump has a solid history of making evidence-free claims about voting: After blithely insisting he only lost the 2016 popular vote to Hillary Clinton because of millions of improperly cast ballots, he set up a special commission on “election integrity.” The panel sparked a national backlash after soliciting reams of personal voter data. Trump shut it down in under a year.
Voter ID laws: The president is also a fan of making voters show photo identification at the polls, which supporters say helps stop unqualified people from abusing the system and critics say have a disproportionate chilling effect on minorities, the elderly, and the poor. Trump once went so far as to suggest showing I.D. to vote is no big deal because it’s impossible to even buy groceries without one. (Fact check: Mostly not true, aside from certain items like smokes and booze.)
Whether it’s excitement over particular candidates, a desire to pass judgment on Trump, or successful appeals to get out the vote, there are definite signs of enthusiasm, if the 2018 primary season is any indication. A Pew analysis released early this month found about 37 million registered voters cast ballots in this year’s House primaries—a big jump from the 23.7 million who did so in 2014. The surge in turnout was much bigger among Democrats than Republicans in House races. More people also voted in Senate and governor primaries, but the party gap wasn’t as big.
Millions of people are also not waiting until Nov. 6 to have their say. According to the United States Election Project, as of October 21, more than 4.9 million Americans had voted early. Voting, whether by mail or in person, has been heavy in Georgia, where the historic Abrams-Kemp contest has generated major excitement; and Arizona, where voters are deciding if GOP Rep. Martha McSally or Democratic Rep. Krysten Sinema should be the first woman to represent them in the Senate.
Michael McDonald, the University of Florida political science professor tracking turnout on the Elections Project site, says early voting is running at a record pace, but advises against jumping to conclusions. Surveying the landscape in mid-October, he offered two potential scenarios: Early voting rates could keep climbing, “leading to a modern midterm turnout record,” or maybe “we’re just seeing a rush by the politically engaged” and turnout will end up more in line with a typical year.
Whatever the case, you should know your rights when you hit the ballot. Because while it matters who decides to rally around Nov. 6, actually casting a vote is the real measure.
You can find more information on voting laws and how to protect your vote here.
Celeste Katz is senior political reporter for Glamour. Send news tips, questions, and comments to email@example.com.In a pivotal election year, Glamour is keeping track of the historic number of women running (and voting) in the midterm elections. For more on our latest midterm coverage, visit www.glamour.com/midterms.
When I moved to Berlin in 2016, I had no idea about how to schelp my stuff for a full day in the city. I had been living in St. Louis, where everything I needed could be thrown in the back of my Honda CR-V. I could go between different neighborhoods, grabbing what I needed for each from the back seat. I had been spoiled by the convenience of having a car. But that wouldn’t be the case in Germany.
At nine times the size of Paris, Berlin is huge. And I’m a freelance writer with a Class Pass-style gym membership and a passion for finding the best flat whites to knock down while I work. That means that when I head out for the day, I head out—“swinging by” my apartment just to pick up something isn’t a thing.
For a year, I lugged around a New Yorker tote (I know), overflowing with gym clothes, a small bag of post-spin makeup, my laptop, my charger, a portable phone battery, a bulky European adapter, and an array of little things that I might need throughout the day. (Did you know that the approximate 6 lbs. a woman’s bag weighs on average?) I began to notice my posture take a hit—my left shoulder (which I carried the tote on) was always slightly slouched, and I often caught myself in a shrug position to counter the weight. Yoga helped for a minute, but by the following morning, it would all come back. So, I finally broke down: Fine. I’ll get a fucking backpack.
I had honestly never thought of wearing backpacks as an adult. I still felt haunted by the paranoia that my backpack was making the back of my skirt ride up and I was accidentally flashing people. Plus, to me, they always felt much too sporty for my typical look (dark lipstick, Doc Martens, floral wrap dresses.) I still feel ambivalent about athleisure. But looking around Berlin, it seemed like everyone had embraced backpacks—Germans are all about health and practicality, and a ton of people ride bikes, so it makes sense for the lifestyle. I started looking around on the subway, eyeing the tags on the backpacks I liked to educate myself on brands. Then, one day, I went to my favorite I-want-everything homeware store in Kreuzberg, and left with a $95 backpack from Rains that I’ve been wearing ever since. Approximately half of the people in my neighborhood also own my Rains backpack of choice—seriously, I can’t go anywhere without spotting someone with the same style.
I love that its matte black finish is both stylish (it goes with everything) and practical (waterproof.) I never have to worry about my laptop getting wet or lost, and the outer is super easy to wipe clean. It holds several days’ worth of groceries, or enough clothes for a 10-day trip—I know from experience, since I’ve brought it with me on trips to New York, Sydney, Abu Dhabi, London, Reykjavík, and southern Italy. Minus a slightly bent strap-latch, it’s held up remarkably well.
I’m not alone in my conversion: According to a recent Forbes report, women are buying fewer handbags (8 percent less in 2017 than the year before) and, seemingly more backpacks (purchases by women are up 15 percent, while they’re down 5 percent among men and and 15 percent among children.) Sure, sometimes the backpack life can be frustrating—like when I forget my keys in the bottom and have to unpack everything in the stairwell of my apartment to get into my flat—but that’s a me-problem, not a backpack-problem. My dress doesn’t ride up, because I’m no longer a fresh-eyed 13-year-old trying to wear their backpack low like the cool kids (so that was the problem!); instead, I’m a jaded 28-year-old with the posture issues of someone of more advanced years. This backpack is my savior; this backpack can do no wrong. And yes, my shoulders are feeling much, much better.
Shop the backpack that changed it all for me and nine like it, ahead.
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Meghan Markle and Prince Harry’s royal tour of Australia, Fiji, Tonga, and New Zealand continued Tuesday (October 30) with a stop in Auckland, New Zealand. The couple kicked things off with a walkabout, where they greeted dozens of fans—including a full brass band, who started playing the Suits theme song upon their arrival. No, that’s not a joke or an exaggeration: A band literally jammed out to Ima Robot’s “Greenback Boogie” as Markle and Prince Harry waved at passersby.
Markle didn’t react to the song, but the moment is iconic nonetheless. The Duchess of Sussex hasn’t really discussed the popular USA TV show that made her a star. In September, Markle reportedly said she hadn’t seen the latest season of Suits, but that’s the only soundbite she’s given on the subject since becoming a royal.
Watch the band greet Markle with a blast from her Suits past, below:
In November 2017, Markle opened up about how she’s ready to close the chapter on Suits and start a new one with Prince Harry. “I don’t see it as giving anything up,” she said. “I just see it as a change. It’s a new chapter. I’ve been working on my show for seven years. We’re very, very fortunate to be able to have that sort of longevity on a series. For me, once we hit the hundred-episode marker, I thought, ‘I’ve ticked this box.’ I feel really proud of the work I’ve done there, and now it’s time to work as a team with [Prince Harry].”
If Markle is looking for something to watch on TV, though, the current season of Suits is pretty lit.
A major congratulations is in order for Hilary Duff. The Younger actress just welcomed her second child, a daughter named Banks Violet Bair. (It’s Duff’s first child with boyfriend Matthew Koma. Her son Luca is from her previous marriage to hockey player Mike Comrie.)
Banks was born on Thursday, October 25, but Duff officially announced her arrival on Instagram last night (October 29). “Banks Violet Bair❤️ this little bit has fully stolen our hearts! She joined our world at home on Thursday afternoon and is absolute magic,” Duff posted alongside a photo of her holding Banks as Koma looks on with a smile.
See the adorable photo for yourself, below:
Duff announced in June that she and Koma were expecting a baby girl together. “Guess what guys! @matthewkoma and I made a little princess of our own and we couldn’t be more excited!!!!!!🤰🏼👶🏼,” she wrote on Instagram at the time. Koma made a separate announcement on his Instagram, writing, “We made a baby girl! She will be as beautiful and sweet as her mother… @hilaryduff another incredible chapter begins.”
The “Sparks” singer has been open about the good times with this pregnancy as well as the difficult. In July, she posted an incredibly transparent Instagram about her pregnancy frustrations that many mothers responded to. “Man.. pregnancy is hard,” she wrote. “Giving love to all mamas who make it look effortless… this journey is hard as hell and also incredibly special. Lovely to have a little life inside and to day dream of all the new adventures to come buuuut almost impossible to get my own shoes on..sick of getting up 9 times a night to pee and looking at this weird body in the mirror that is not my own at the moment. Women are so bad ass, this was just a note to remind myself and remind others how’s strong and beautiful you are! WE GOT THIS.”
On a bitter, gray Michigan morning in January, Judge Rosemarie Aquilina stood in her office, zipped up her robes over a pair of jeans and cowboy boots, and stepped through the door into Courtroom 5.
Cameras crowded into the snug, carpeted space. News had gotten out that dozens of young women, many of them gymnasts, would be speaking at the sentencing of Larry Nassar, a doctor who’d pleaded guilty to seven counts of first-degree criminal sexual conduct. Aquilina, her tousled beehive hairsprayed into obedience, validated one survivor after another: “You are strong”; “you are brave.” “There were so many,” she says now. “You could feel the empowerment. You could feel the rage.” It was hard to look away as the women shared how Nassar violated them in his basement at the age of six, or on the exam table in front of their parents, or at their hotel during the Olympics. Staring him down, they explained to all those who had never listened how this man, like a dirty bomb, had nearly ruined their lives. Yet they decided to rise up. For seven days, 156 survivors spoke, the world reeled, and the case broke history.
What was easy to miss is how it took a chain of extraordinary women to make the world pay attention to this moment and to sexual violence—and to create change so all survivors can get justice.
It Takes One to Come Forward
It’s hard to say when Lawrence Gerard Nassar committed his first crime—women are still reporting their abuse. But what brought him to Aquilina’s courtroom began the afternoon of August 25, 2016, in Rachael Denhollander’s Louisville, Kentucky, kitchen. The 31-year-old mom had given her kids—ages one, two, and four—an audiobook to distract them while she made a phone call. They were too young to understand what she was about to say, but she still didn’t want them to hear. Standing at the sink, she dialed the Michigan State University (MSU) police department and said she wanted to file a delayed report of sexual assault.
In person Denhollander, a deeply thoughtful Reformed Baptist, is soft-spoken with a light laugh that belies her exacting gaze and determination. “My vagina is dinner conversation for other people,” she says with irony about what has been an excruciating journey. Raised in Kalamazoo, Michigan, and homeschooled with her two siblings, she started gymnastics for fun. She’d just turned 15 when she told her mom, Camille Moxon, she was having back pain. After overhearing parents at the gym talk about Nassar, the team physician for USA Gymnastics (USAG) who also treated athletes at MSU, Moxon made an appointment. “We walk in and there are poster-size pictures of the ’96 gold-medal team in Atlanta, and the girls have signed them,” she says. “I was dumbfounded.” Denhollander liked him right away.
Over the next several visits, Nassar complimented her long hair and her jeans with the smiley-face patches, chatting with Moxon as she sat in the room. But from the very first exam, out of Moxon’s view and often under a towel, Nassar used two ungloved fingers to penetrate her daughter vaginally and, later, anally, sometimes for up to half an hour. On Denhollander’s fifth visit, Nassar turned her on her side, away from her mother, and groped her breasts. When she saw he had an erection, she realized she was being sexually assaulted. After that, she lied and said her back no longer bothered her.
More than a year later Moxon noticed her teenager stiffening up anytime a man got near her and asked what was wrong. When Denhollander told her what happened, “I was so angry at him and so angry at myself for not protecting my daughter,” says Moxon, “I am still upset.”
Denhollander was 16 by then. “We had the discussion: Do we take this to the police?” she says. “But I knew the reality of how sexual assault survivors are treated, and I knew my voice alone was never going to be enough. Larry was surrounded by very powerful institutions.” Denhollander testified that a year later she did tell someone. She’d gotten a job at a gym, and the coach was about to send one of the young gymnasts to Nassar. Denhollander described how she’d told the coach that the doctor had abused her (“I was quite explicit,” she told Glamour), yet the coach still referred the child. Denhollander was crushed, she said in court: “I couldn’t protect that little girl.”
But she never stopped thinking about her. She got her law degree, and in August 2016 saw an Indianapolis Star exposé of sex abuse among USAG coaches. Denhollander had always suspected there might be others like her, but she didn’t know how to find them; the press might help, and she thought they would want to know about Nassar. After contacting the reporters, she discovered the statute of limitations to file a criminal report had been extended. That’s when she called the police.
It Takes One to Believe
Andrea Munford, a detective sergeant with the MSU police department, met with Denhollander just four days after their first phone call. “She came prepared,” says Munford, 44, a mother of six with decades of experience in victim-centered, offender-focused trauma investigations.
Denhollander brought medical records, the names of potential expert witnesses, contact info for the coach she’d disclosed to. Still, while she found Munford compassionate, she walked out of her office in terror. “I definitely didn’t trust Andrea at that point,” Denhollander says. “I didn’t know if she had the skill and drive to investigate what was a very legally and medically complex case. There was a very real chance I would come forward, and it would be my voice against his.”
Within a day Munford brought Nassar in for questioning. She asked basic but pointed questions; he replied with medical jargon, avoiding any direct answers. “As the interview went on, he started stuttering profusely. He was sweating,” says Munford. “And when he couldn’t explain why he would have an erection during a medical treatment of a 16-year-old girl? There’s no reason someone couldn’t answer that unless they were doing something for sexual gratification.”
Meanwhile, another woman who’d just filed a civil suit against Nassar agreed to talk anonymously to the IndyStar—she would soon identify herself as Olympic gymnast Jamie Dantzscher. The paper published the story on September 12, 2016. There were two voices now.
Then the phones started ringing. “I was surprised there were so many,” says Munford, “and that he’d been doing this for so long without ever getting caught. It was heartbreaking. The other word that comes to mind is fury.”
Despite the number of victims—six quickly grew to 60, then 125—Munford faced an obstacle: Nassar claimed what he did was medical care, an argument that could be plausible to a jury because it was similar to a type of therapy used for pelvic pain. Building a medical case would take time. “Then I got a call from Kyle Stephens,” says Munford. “She wasn’t a patient; she was a friend of the Nassar family. The conversation was very triggering for her, but she was also very determined.” Nassar had started to abuse her at age six in his basement. They could bring charges in this case right away.
Less than a month after her first meeting with Denhollander, Munford and her team searched Nassar’s house. While going through the clutter, one detective noticed Nassar’s trash was still outside; garbage pickup just happened to be late that day. “Throw it on the truck!” Munford called. Inside: hard drives loaded with 37,000 images and videos of child pornography. Subjects as young as infants. Girl after girl being raped. “When I found out,” says Denhollander, “I just stood there and cried.”
It Takes One to Fight
In Detroit, Angela Povilaitis, then assistant attorney general, was following the local stories about Nassar. Prosecutors often decline to pursue charges for sexual assaults, especially those reported after years have passed. But Povilaitis, 43, a mother of two from a one-stoplight town, was a specialist in these cases and a particularly passionate one at that. So when the MSU police department reached out to see whether the AG’s office might take the case, Povilaitis and her team made the hour-and-a-half drive to East Lansing to meet. When she realized Munford used the same victim-centered, offender-focused trauma investigation approach she practiced, “it was an amazing moment,” says Povilaitis. “I absolutely believe that something led us to work together.”
The two women quickly handed off the child pornography case to federal authorities, who could impose stiffer penalties. Munford and Povilaitis would push forward locally on child sexual abuse charges. In mid-October they flew to Chicago to have lunch with Stephens, at her suggestion in a café in Restoration Hardware. After their meal they wandered showrooms, settling in comfy sectional couches as Stephens told her story. Less than a month later, plainclothesmen arrested Nassar at a local tire store, and Munford took him into custody.
Next Povilaitis and Munford spent time carefully preparing nine survivors to testify and face cross-examination: Stephens, Denhollander, Madeleine Jones, Bailey Lorencen, Annie Labrie, Madison Bonofiglio, Kaylee Lorincz, Jessica Thomashow, and another victim who still hasn’t gone public. All the women were anonymous at the time except Denhollander. “From the start,” says Povilaitis, “Rachael was willing to be the public face so that others did not have to.” But the women themselves still hadn’t met; they had to be kept separated to avoid any suspicion that they had conspired together. “Being in complete isolation was really hard,” says Denhollander. “I knew how tough it would be for these girls to testify because it was terrifying for me. I ached so much for them, and I couldn’t even know their names.”
Stephens went first. Povilaitis had tried to keep her testimony closed to the press, but that morning a lowercourt judge (the case hadn’t been assigned to Aquilina yet) granted Nassar’s request to let reporters in as long as they shielded Stephens’ identity. “Larry was just trying to mess with her head,” says Denhollander, “but she did awesome!” When Denhollander’s day came to take the stand, she told Povilaitis to let the cameras in. “I hated the idea of an open courtroom,” she says, “but it was very important to make it as clear as possible to Larry Nassar that he was not in control anymore—and that we were coming out swinging.”
Meanwhile, Munford kept interviewing survivors. The picture that emerged was damning: Like Denhollander, these girls had told someone about the abuse. In 1997 Larissa Boyce reported Nassar to MSU’s women’s gymnastics coach Kathie Klages (who is now facing trial on criminal charges of lying to investigators), according to testimony. In 2000 Tiffany Thomas Lopez notified MSU personnel, only to be blown off, according to her lawsuit. In 2004 Brianne Randall filed a police report in nearby Meridian Township that went nowhere. In 2014 Amanda Thomashow filed a Title IX complaint, but no wrongdoing was found. In 2015 three-time Olympic gold medalist Aly Raisman told an investigator working for USAG that Nassar had abused her. (USAG president Steve Penny invoked the Fifth when questioned at a U.S. Senate hearing and has resigned.) “A lot of people, including myself, have been speaking out for years and years and years, and people just weren’t listening,” says Raisman, 23. “After I spoke up, Larry Nassar continued to abuse gymnasts because USAG didn’t handle it correctly. That’s unacceptable.”
Povilaitis knew what she was up against. “More than 2,000 people voted for Nassar for school board knowing he was under investigation; prestigious members of the gymnastics community volunteered to be character witnesses for him,” she says. “This was not a slam dunk in the least.”
When Aquilina was assigned to the case in the spring of 2017, she was concerned about conducting a fair trial for both sides. To get an impartial jury, she planned for a pool of 800. She also issued two gag orders, the first for attorneys and the second for anyone who might be a victim or witness. “The girls were not happy with me!” Aquilina says with a laugh now. Denhollander sued to get the second gag order lifted (a federal judge ruled in her favor and it was modified). Then, to everyone’s surprise, days before jury selection was to start, Nassar indicated he’d accept a plea deal.
Pivoting from trial preparation, Povilaitis worked out an agreement that offered a minimum sentence of 25 to 40 years for seven counts of criminal sexual conduct. Then she added one thing to the deal: a stipulation that all survivors—including the 125 who’d already filed criminal reports and those who were still coming forward—and their loved ones, could deliver impact statements: She wanted to make sure that, after being silenced for so long, the women would finally be heard. Michigan law allows victims to give information to the sentencing court, but, says Jennifer Long, founder of AEquitas, a nonprofit that trains prosecutors to fight sexual violence, “it’s fortunate there was a stipulation explicitly allowing all of these victims to talk and essentially prevent Nassar from lodging any valid objection.” Aquilina didn’t hesitate when she saw the agreement. In her 14 years on the bench, she has made it a cornerstone of her judicial philosophy to let victims, defendants, and their friends and families speak. The Nassar case would be no different.
The night before the sentencing, the survivors finally met one another for the first time, in a local community center with pizza and cupcakes. First to arrive was Donna Markham. Her daughter Chelsey had been abused by Nassar at age 12. After that, the little girl with a stunning smile turned into a teen with severe depression, spiraled into drug abuse, and took her own life at age 23. Another survivor arrived and comforted Markham. (“We just melded,” she says.) The place filled up with hugs and tears. “The biggest thing for me,” says Denhollander, “was the sobering reality of walking into this huge room full of sexual assault survivors who did not have to be there.”
But there was a sense of hope too: A few weeks earlier Nassar had been sentenced to 60 years in federal court on child pornography charges. And advocates working with the team had painted worry stones with words like strength and brave for the survivors to carry into court the next day. Denhollander chose a stone that said “truth.” Larissa Boyce snatched two, one for each hand. “We were just so happy to see we weren’t alone,” she says.
It Takes One to Start a Movement
At the sentencing, Stephens, shedding her anonymity, was the first to speak; Denhollander, five months pregnant, was the last. In between, over seven days, more than 150 survivors gave their statements. Raisman had planned to watch from New York City, feeling it was too traumatic for her to come. “Then I saw Kyle Stephens say: ‘Little girls grow into strong women that return to destroy your world,’” says the Olympian, “and in that moment it became clear to me that I wasn’t alone. And I knew I had to be there.” The next day she flew to Lansing.
Raisman still feels enraged when she thinks of all the young women in that packed room. “It’s just devastating that we all trusted him because he was the United States Olympic doctor and we thought he really cared for us,” she says. “And it’s devastating that so many people let us down.”
During the proceedings Aquilina asked Nassar whether he wanted to withdraw his plea deal. When he declined, silenced at last, she sentenced him to 40 to 175 years. “There were so many feelings in that courtroom,” says Aquilina. “I felt the anger and the angst. But I could also see girls hugging and helping each other, suddenly a family.”
It Takes an Army to Change the Culture
Nassar is still appealing, but in all likelihood he’s lost his freedom, his dignity, his family (his wife has divorced him). And the ripple effects of the women’s courage that day have turned into a tidal wave. In Eaton County, where Judge Janice Cunningham sentenced Nassar to another 40 to 125 years, 64 more survivors spoke out. The presidents of MSU, the U.S. Olympic Committee, and USAG have all been forced out. The U.S. House and Senate are conducting inquiries into all three institutions. The Department of Justice is reportedly investigating the FBI for its lethargic response. And MSU has agreed to a $500 million settlement for the survivors.
The Sister Army has pushed for legislation including some 40 bills in Michigan and a new federal law that expands the statute of limitations to report sexual abuse to 10 years from when a survivor identifies it (formerly, the clock started when the abuse occurred), and requires athletic organizations to develop clear procedures to prevent, report, and respond to sexual assault. The survivors helped other women come forward and face their abuse too: Following the case, the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network saw a 46 percent increase in calls to its National Sexual Assault Hotline.
Privately many of the “sisters” are still in pain; deep trauma doesn’t just disappear. Larissa Boyce, now 38, and Amanda Thomashow, 29, struggle with having been called liars for so long. “It’s years of convincing yourself that you were wrong,” says Thomashow. “You feel dirty, like you were the one who turned this completely platonic event into something sexualized.” National champion Jessica Howard, 34, is still reeling from “the volcano of buried emotions that erupted” after coming forward that nearly caused her to take her own life. “My treatment is ongoing,” she says. Raisman, who has competed under unimaginable pressure, has suffered after speaking publicly about this issue: “It takes everything out of me—I’m exhausted, and it takes weeks to recover,” she says. “But we need answers in order to change. The first reported abuse was in 1997. A lot of people knew about it and did nothing. We still need a full investigation to find out why.” As Amy Klepal, 24, puts it: “If one adult, just one, had acted, this horrific tragedy would never have happened.”
To that end, Raisman is partnering with Darkness to Light to teach the public how to recognize the signs of sexual abuse. Grace French, 23, has started Army of Survivors (60 women are on board so far) to provide resources, advocacy, and education about how to spot and report abuse. Thomashow now works at the Michigan Domestic and Sexual Violence Prevention and Treatment Board as a campus response coordinator. Povilaitis and Munford have taken full-time positions to train police and prosecutors to use their winning approach. Denhollander, a full-time activist, named her fourth child Elora Renee Joy, after Munford’s middle name Renee. The detective was somewhat overwhelmed by the gesture. “But after the trauma all these girls have been through and here comes this baby?” she says. “What better sign of hope!”
In other words, the Sister Army is marching forward. “We will not be quiet anymore,” says Melissa Hudecz, 33. “We have found our voices.” Aquilina can only marvel: “I don’t think anybody could have anticipated all of this, but it’s really a tribute to the courage of these brave girls, to their sharing the horrific things that happened to them with the world, to their saying: ‘No more, we’re speaking out. We’ve grown up. We matter. We’re a force.’”
Liz Brody is an investigative reporter in New York City. If you or a loved one has been a victim of sexual assault, get confidential counseling and information on how to report it from RAINN at 800-656-4673.
Images by Jason Schmidt and 16 photos courtesy of subject. GALLERY REPORTING BY SAMANTHA LEACH. Creative Direction by Nathalie Kirsheh. Art Direction and Development by Aimee Sy and Alexander Ratner. HAIR: BROOKE ALBERY; MAKEUP: EMILY GRAY; LOCATION: COURTESY OF THE HALL OF JUSTICE, LANSING, MICHIGAN; PRODUCTION: DAVE KRIEGER/MADISON PRODUCTIONS; ALY RAISMAN: STYLIST: AMY HOU; HAIR AND MAKEUP: MARY GUTHRIE AT ABTP.
You can tell at first glance that Rosemarie Aquilina is no ordinary judge. The woman who spent 20 years in the National Guard and 14 on the bench telegraphs that with bold red streaks in her jet-black hair. “It’s really party in the back,” she says. “When I put my hair up, it’s my little independence. As a judge, we have to be so straight and narrow. Well, I’m not—in my life or in the courtroom. I don’t want to be put in a box.”
At the January 24 sentencing of USA Gymnastics doctor Larry Nassar, Judge Aquilina, 60, became an overnight sensation for letting the “sister survivors,” as she dubbed them, have a voice.
Where did she find that heart, that flair, that spine of steel? Perhaps it all started when she immigrated to America at age one, poor and without a country, her passport stamped “stateless.” It was 1959, and her mother, Johanna, brought little Rosie and her brother from Munich to Detroit to live with her grandparents. The elder couple cared for her while her mother worked at an insurance company and her father finished medical school back in Germany. “He’d visit, but I did not realize he was my dad,” says Aquilina. “I thought my grandparents were my parents, and my mom was this older sister who helped out. No one ever explained it to me.” When her father finally came for good and moved his family to their own home, she says, “I thought I’d been kidnapped.”
She was five and devastated, and it took a while to sort things out with her family. “But that’s why I have been the voice for people in everything I do,” she says. “Why I have always listened. Because I was a little kid saying, ‘What are you doing to me? I want to go back home.’ And I wasn’t heard.”
After that, Aquilina spent much of her childhood standing in the corner, eyes to the wall, refusing to apologize or acquiesce to her father. “You can’t beat them in the United States, so you send them to the corner,” says Joe Aquilina with a sly chuckle, knowing full well how many child abusers his daughter has put away. “Rosie was bullheaded, and she had to do [things] on her own terms.” Her mother agrees: “She just questioned us all the time and wanted to do it her way.”
And that’s pretty much how Rosemarie Aquilina has rolled. She did it her way when she got married after college at Michigan State University (yep, she’s an alumna of the university where Nassar worked) and had not one but two babies during law school at Western Michigan University. She did it her way when she joined the Army National Guard and became the first female judge advocate general, or JAG, in Michigan history. She did it her way when she had twins at 52. And she did it her way at Ingham County Circuit Court when she let 156 survivors speak as long as they wanted so they could begin to heal.
Aquilina took her first job assisting then Michigan state senator John F. Kelly and later started her own family practice, Aquilina Law Firm. As a respite from her heavy caseload, she started writing crime novels during her lunch hour. (Her first book, Feel No Evil, revolves around a rape; the second, Triple Cross Killer, abused children. “I’d wake up at two in the morning to get my character out of trouble,” she says, and sit down to write.) She also joined the Army National Guard, putting in at least one weekend a month and a couple of weeks a year. “I don’t know when she ever really slept,” says Colonel John Wojcik, Michigan National Guard’s general counsel. “She is passionate with an unquenchable drive, and she has a good judicial temperament. I always found her to be balanced and fair regardless of whether I was prosecuting or defending a case.”
Then in 2002 she realized a few weeks a year as a JAG weren’t enough. She was sitting with a court-appointed client in her private practice when something clicked. “This was a mother who beat her teenage daughter with a belt buckle,” she recalls. “I can still picture this girl. The bruises were so swollen, I mean, it was gut-wrenching. I said, ‘Look, you can’t do this.’ And she said, ‘That’s how I control her.’ I literally had to sit on my hands because I wanted to lean over and choke her. I thought right then: I need to be able to say, ‘You’re going to prison and here’s the treatment, here’s how to fix this.’ ”
And so in 2004, at age 46, Aquilina ran for the Fifty-Fifth District Court in Ingham County and won. She’s been on the bench ever since, having been elected to the county’s higher Thirtieth Circuit Court in 2008. From her first bang of the gavel, she has insisted on hearing from victims, their families, and anyone impacted by the crime “so I can get the full picture to make the best decision,” she says. And she’s always made sure they have a safe space to tell their stories: “When you ask, ‘What would you like me to know?’ it empowers them. They go, ‘Someone’s listening; let me talk now.’”
Aquilina is just as committed to hearing from the offenders and their families. “She was very good at allowing the defense attorneys to walk their cases through, even if they were kind of crazy arguments,” Col. Wojcik remembers, “so if the defendants [lost], they could look their lawyer in the eye and say, ‘Hey, you got to give it your best shot and the judge let me say my piece.’ That goes a long way.”
“In my life or in my courtroom, I don’t want to be put in a box.”
No one was more shocked at the response to the Larry Nassar sentencing than Aquilina. “After it was over, I took a break and went and did four probation violations. I had no idea that the world was exploding,” she says. “I just did what I always do.” In the crush of attention, she heard from other judges who charged, “You are a disgrace,” and, “How dare you behave like this?” for her rebuke of Nassar from the bench. Aquilina doesn’t care: “When I spoke harshly, I did it to deflate all that tenseness in the courtroom where I was afraid people were going to rush him.” The Circuit Court’s Chief Judge Richard Garcia agreed. “Judge Aquilina clearly understood the role of righteous indignation. She also understood the role of the court to have this emotion controlled by the judge rather than allow it to run wild in the community,” he wrote in response to Nassar’s first appeal. “This was a controlled burn.”
Critics have also argued that this victim-centered approach could turn courts into therapy chambers, but Aquilina can’t think of anything more absurd. “If you’re affected by crime, you should be able to tell a judge. It’s the people’s court, it’s our laws, our community. It’s our Constitution,” she says. “If someone doesn’t like what I do, unseat me. It’s that important.”
What’s next? Well, there’s her family. The divorced mom of three had been on the court for a couple of years when she and her partner started talking about another baby. “Our relationship started to fall apart,” she says, “and I said, You know what? I don’t need him—sperm bank! So when I was 52, I did IVF, and I had twins.”
The twins are eight now; they live with Aquilina and her daughter Johanna, 18, in a two-family home shared with her parents. Her two oldest children are grown, but they still all gather for her German schinkenfleckerl and Maltese pastizzi (both recipes from her grandparents). She makes bracelets for her 14 pairs of cowboy boots, takes Bob Ross painting classes “to keep the blood pressure down,” and is finishing her next crime series, All Rise. In this latest opus, the main character’s motto is “Every day is a wedding hairspray day,” which happens to be Aquilina’s motto as well: She spritzes religiously, she says, so “I don’t have a thought or a care about what I look like—I simply focus on the case in front of me.”
And that is what’s next for now. Soon after the Nassar sentencing, she heard the case of a man who had sexually assaulted his 12-year-old daughter. In her victim’s statement Aquilina learned that when his wife kicked him out, he took the family dog. “It was his way of controlling her,” Aquilina says. “So I told him, ‘Sir, I’m ordering restitution: the dog.’” (She also sentenced him to prison time.) “That girl is never going to have her virginity again. But she’ll have her dog—her best friend—and her voice back. That case is just as important as a case with hundreds of women and all the media.”
She’s up for reelection in 2020 and hopes to serve until she retires at age 74. But she plans to live until 120. “That’s my number,” she says. “I keep telling God, I have work to do.”
Liz Brody is an investigative reporter in New York City. If you or a loved one has been a victim of sexual assault, get confidential counseling and information on how to report it from RAINN at 800-656-4673.
HAIR: BROOKE ALBERY; MAKEUP: EMILY GRAY; LOCATION: COURTESY OF THE HALL OF JUSTICE, LANSING, MICHIGAN; PRODUCTION: DAVE KRIEGER/MADISON PRODUCTIONS
So with 2019 on the not-so-distant horizon, we wanted to celebrate the victories women have earned, both big and small. It wasn’t a breeze, but we made it. Below, a brief chronicle of the women who spoke truth to power this year and rocked the status quo.
Hoda and Savannah made history
In the first 48 hours of 2018, Hoda Kotb took her seat beside Savannah Guthrie as the coanchor of Today, replacing the disgraced and dismissed Matt Lauer. And with that the duo became the first female cohosts in the behemoth NBC franchise’s 66-year history.
GLAMOUR: Now it seems like fate. But at the start were you two nervous you wouldn’t find a groove?
SAVANNAH GUTHRIE: I was afraid at first because I could not imagine having to be part of this show by myself. I said, “I don’t want to do it alone.” [When the Lauer news broke] Hoda was with me, and we literally held hands. I basically have not stopped holding her hand.
HODA KOTB: I remember that too. It was literally five minutes to 7:00 A.M., and we stood here together—Savannah and I. We kept saying, “If we can get through today, then we can get through tomorrow.”
GLAMOUR: Conventional wisdom holds that America likes to wake up with a man and a woman behind that anchor desk. What’s it like to be two women cohosting this show?
KOTB: When we announced it, people were like, “Way to go! Girl power!” I was like, “What?” I didn’t quite put it all together. But it’s resonated in a way neither of us expected.
GUTHRIE: Once we started this together, it felt like everyone came to the same conclusion at the same time, which is, Why would you change this?
Women at the Golden Globes made a statement.
For the 2018 awards show, women dressed in black to protest sexual harassment and support the then nascent Time’s Up movement. Advocates like Michelle Williams invited activists like MeToo founder Tarana Burke to attend with them. The effect? More than an aesthetic, it was a promise: We’re in this together.
Oprah got her due
Also at the Globes, Oprah Winfrey became the first black woman ever to receive the Cecil B. DeMille Award. In an acceptance speech so good it sparked rumors of a presidential run, the icon celebrated all the women who came before her, including overlooked heroes like Recy Taylor, who never saw justice for her sexual assault. Winfrey heralded the dawn of a new era: “For too long women have not been heard or believed if they dared to speak their truth to the power of… men, but their time is up. Their time is up!”
We started winning
After the primaries, more than 250 candidates for the House and Senate ballots were women—a record. Just a few of the barrier breakers:
Danica Roem, 34, became the first openly transgender woman ever to serve in the Virginia House of Delegates. She followed that landmark achievement with the radical act of… responsible governance. Roem has focused on transportation issues in her district and advocated for infrastructure dollars to be better allocated across the state.
Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, 29, wasn’t supposed to upend the status quo, but then beat out Joe Crowley (D–N.Y.), who hadn’t faced a primary challenger since 2004. A favorite as Glamour went to press, Ocasio-Cortez is poised to become the youngest woman ever elected to Congress, and perhaps the only politician responsible for an uptick in Google searches for both “Democratic Socialism” and red lipstick. (After she tweeted she’d worn a Stila red stain to a debate, the shade sold out.)
Also expected on Capitol Hill? Rashida Tlaib, 42. The daughter of Palestinian immigrants is expected to become the first Muslim woman to serve in the House of Representatives. (She has no Republican opponent.) In an interview with Democracy Now, she promised to elevate the voices of her Michigan constituents in Washington: “I’m bringing my bullhorn to the floor of Congress.”
Serena Williams challenged outdated ideas on maternity leave when she returned to tennis post-childbirth and saw her rank fall to number 183—and won the admiration of moms worldwide for her frank Instagram posts about the baby moments she missed when she went back to work. Senator Tammy Duckworth carried her infant daughter onto the Senate floor in April, and New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern brought her child to the United Nationsin September—all proving the juggle is real but can be handled with class.
The USA Women’s Hockey Team won gold—and fair pay
The U.S. women’s hockey team’s win at the 2018 Winter Olympics was a perfect capstone on the season—and their fight for equality. Back in 2017 the women said they’d give up competing if they weren’t paid on par with men in the sport. After a 15-month dispute with USA Hockey, they skated to triumph, raising their pay from a small annual stipend to a reported $70,000 per player. “We had a vision, and the only way to see it through was to remain united,” forward Meghan Duggan told Glamour.
Our heroes were made monumental
There are more than 140 statues of men in the five boroughs of New York City. The number of monuments to historical women? A reported five. Now a new initiative promises to honor women who’ve had an impact on the metropolis. Meanwhile, in Chicago, famed African American journalist Ida B. Wells, who was born a slave and became one of the most prominent activists of her era before her death in 1931, will be immortalized in bronze and granite. Now isn’t it time to get Harriet Tubman on the $20 bill?
Ireland legalized abortion
When dentist Savita Halappanavar died in 2012 from sepsis, an infection she contracted because she was unable to get an abortion as she miscarried, her name became a call to action. And a campaign to repeal the Eighth Amendment, which had outlawed abortion in Ireland since 1983, took root. In May, women rallied around the world, citizens made the pilgrimage home to vote, and when all were tallied, a resounding 66 percent said women deserve choice.
We Came Forward
“I am here today not because I want to be,” Christine Blasey Ford, Ph.D., testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee. “I am terrified. I am here because I believe it is my civic duty.” Just over a week later, Brett Kavanaugh became Supreme Court Justice Kavanaugh. People on both sides of the aisle said the episode did irreparable damage to the country. But it may yet lead to some healing: In the days after the hearings, the National Sexual Assault Hotline had a historic 338 percent increase in calls from survivors and their loved ones, many who shared their story for the very first time. Like Tarana Burke, Kellyanne Conway, and so many countless women who have said “me too,” Blasey Ford has inspired women to speak out, despite their fears, and perhaps create a new space for common ground.
In the 28 years that we’ve celebrated Women of the Year—both in our pages and at our annual summit and awards ceremony—the stories of our honorees often start with the same idea: A woman that refuses to wait for someone else to make things better. Alone, or with an army behind her, she decides to act.
For our lifetime achievement winner, 97-year-old National Park Service Ranger Betty Reid Soskin, one of those moments came during planning meetings for the Rosie the Riveter Park. When it was clear her story as an African American woman was being left out, she didn’t sit silently. She spoke up and, as a result, the 60,000-plus visitors to the park each year learn a fuller version of history. Rachael Denhollander’s moment came when she stood in her kitchen and called the police, hoping she’d keep Larry Nassar from assaulting one more girl. Viola Davis made it her mission to stop the camera from overlooking unseen women—the maids, the wives, the grieving mothers—and kept at it for 30 years. Chrissy Teigen had an idea that social media could give all women a voice to share their passions and fears, while Kamala Harris is the politician women—and all Americans, for that matter—so desperately need.
We couldn’t be prouder to introduce you to Glamour’s 2018 Women of the Year. They are a diverse bunch—including a senator, an actress, and two groups of powerful young women fighting to make a lasting difference—but they have one thing in common: They aren’t waiting for the world to change; they’re getting the job done themselves.
Below, read about them and the other remarkable females that comprise Glamour’s 2018 Women of the Year, and head here to buy your tickets for our annual event celebrating these women in New York City. It’s surely going to be an unforgettable three days.
The Women Who Took Down Larry Nassar, Voices of Courage
One woman spoke out, another listened. That helped put an end to the abuse Larry Nassar inflicted for more than 20 years. Meet the survivors, including Aly Raisman and Rachael Denhollander; as well as Detective Andrea Munford, Assistant Attorney General Angela Povilaitis, and Judge Rosemarie Aquilina who told the world: believe women.
Viola Davis, The Icon
This was the year the world realized women’s stories deserve to be seen and heard. Viola Davis has made that her mission for three decades.
Senator Kamala Harris, The Advocate
Senator Kamala Harris came to Washington to do the work and gave women nationwide a voice inside the room where it happens.
Chrissy Teigen, The Influencer
So funny. So true. And so damn necessary. Chrissy Teigen may be one of the most relatable people on the internet, but she’s also an unofficial spokesperson for Generation Fed Up.
The Women Activists of March for Our Lives, The Next-Gen Leaders
In the face of tragedy caused by gun violence, these students activists—Samantha Fuentes (top right), Emma González (top left), Jaclyn Corin (bottom left), Edna Chavez (middle), and Naomi Wadler (bottom right)—demanded change, and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Betty Reid Soskin, Lifetime Achievement
As the oldest career National Park Service Ranger, 97-year-old Betty Reid Soskin is unabashed about revealing all of America’s history—and her optimism about our future.
Janelle Monáe, The Visionary
Janelle Monáe has been racking up the hits for a decade. This year she opened up about her art and her life—and showed us a future that celebrates all kinds of female power.
Manal al-Sharif, The Freedom Fighter
Manal al-Sharif got behind the wheel and helped launch a movement that gave women in Saudi Arabia the right to drive—and put them one step closer to equality.
Come back each day this week to read profiles of the 2018 Glamour Women of the Year honorees and get your tickets to the three-day event here.
For a while now, we’ve been able to watch the cult classic Cruel Intentions on Netflix whenever we wanted, but now that privilege is ending. Unfortunately, the nineties classic starring Reese Witherspoon, Selma Blair, and Sarah Michelle Gellar is leaving the streaming platform starting November 1. Obviously, this means you’ll have to cancel your plans from now until then so you can watch it several times in a row. And stream the second and third sequels to Cruel Intentions while you’re at it: They’re also leaving Netflix in November.
These aren’t the only losses you’ll face after Halloween: Steel Magnolias,Paddington,Jurassic Park, and The Land Before Time (plus its sequels) are also bowing out of Netflix. If you were planning on hosting some type of dinosaur movie marathon that also features a cute British bear and young Julia Roberts, then you have exactly three days to execute it.
Below, check out all the movies and TV shows leaving Netflix in November. Of course, these 97 titles arriving on the streaming platform next month help cushion this blow. Who needs Smokin’ Aces 2 when you have Scary Movie 2, am I right? (Still salty about Cruel Intentions, though.)
Leaving November 1
Cruel Intentions 2
Cruel Intentions 3
Hellboy II: The Golden Army
Jurassic Park III
Run to Me
Smokin’ Aces 2: Assassins’ Ball
The Land Before Time
The Land Before Time II: The Great Valley Adventure
The Land Before Time III: The Time of the Great Giving