Jennifer Wilson

2 weeks ago | newyorker.com | Jennifer Wilson

Earlier this year—Valentine’s Day weekend, to be precise—I found myself sitting on the floor of a loft in downtown Los Angeles with eight other adults, learning how to fake an orgasm. We had been told to make three “oo” sounds punctuated by a sharp inhale. Next, we bit our lower lips and exhaled on the letter “V.” “Vuh, vuh, vuhhhhhhh,” we harmonized. After a few rounds of this, I started feeling out of breath.

2 weeks ago | flipboard.com | Jennifer Wilson

1 day agoMidcentury chic in southern California The Desert Wave, Palm Springs Price: from $400 Click: boutique-homes.com Boutique has been around for years, but its inventory has evolved into a truly exceptional portfolio since 2022, when it was acquired by Marc Blazer – the co-founder of travel designers Prior, …

2 months ago | newyorker.com | Jennifer Wilson

Before I became a journalist, I got a Ph.D. in Russian literature. I don’t miss academia, but I do miss my Moscow “field work”: gypsy cabs, Georgian wine, politically subversive theatre, cosmonaut sleeping pills, flirting with “the enemy,” etc. The thing I loved most about living in a foreign country was how much quieter my mind became. I had to mute my internal English monologue so that Russian could find a way in.

Mar 10, 2025 | newyorker.com | Jennifer Wilson

In the late nineties, a movie came out about a slick-talking, hot-shot developer who is about to destroy a small but cherished neighborhood institution when he reads the letters of a woman who’s trying to save it and falls in love with her. I’m not talking about “You’ve Got Mail,” Nora Ephron’s classic ode to indie bookstores and Upper West Side quaintness.

Jan 13, 2025 | newyorker.com | Jennifer Wilson

It was below freezing the other Friday morning, in Long Island City, when the author Jhumpa Lahiri walked into a nondescript brick building beneath the Queens Boulevard overpass. She was wearing a long white wool coat and maroon suède boots. “That’s her!” someone said, springing up from a bench. As Lahiri took off her coat, she was given a nametag that read “BookOps” over the logo of the New York Public Library.