10 August Outfits That Editors Are Loving for Summer 2025
So how do you continue to slay in this stifling heat? Well, save for spending 100 percent of your time indoors—surrounded by the loving embrace of crisp A/C—there's really not much you can do about the triple-digit temps. You can, however, give off the impression that you're unaffected by it with a slew of August outfits and a heavy layer of setting spray.
A well-curated summer outfit will keep you as cool as possible, while also serving up your special brand of personal style for everyone to applaud. It's all about light layers, swimwear as clothing, and intentional accessorizing. Essentially: more jewelry/bags/hair accessories, less shirts/pants/dresses. Details ahead!
Happy bras-as-tops season to all who celebrate! It's officially time to break out your tiniest crop tops to combine with your cheekiest mini skirts. In this heat, the more skin, the better (as long as you slather on sunscreen first).
If most of your summer has been spent sending silly little emails at the office, you might want to add this look to your M-F rotation. A light-weight sleeveless top and a pair of loose-fit jeans (barrel, wide-leg, bootcut, or otherwise) are the perfect commuter-friendly choices.
You might be tempted to pack away your jewel tones until the first soup ladle of fall, but don't be fooled. Saturated hues look just as lovely in the summertime as they do in autumn. A red mini dress, for example, looks decidedly slay with a white bag and a pair of matching platform sandals.
White-washed denim is unfailingly chic (and the same goes for black). If you're trying to avoid cowboy allegations, skip the hat and style yours with sleek boots and minimalist jewelry instead.
Disclaimer: This is not for a standard nine-to-five office job. This outfit is for those who have more freedom in their careers for sartorial play—bar tenders, artists, Aritzia store managers who run that place like the Marines, etc. And those people should definitely consider a bra top and slip skirt for a mix of professional and spicy.
There's quite literally nothing a good white tank top can't accomplish—and that includes (but is in no way limited to) dressing down those once-a-year sequin pieces hiding in the back of your closet. Just add a similarly-glitzy bag and the edgiest combat boots in your closet for a casual-cool type of look you could wear to happy hour, a second Hinge date—whatever.
I'm so glad that we, as a society, have moved past the absurd idea that black is a winter-only color. Its chicness transcends temperatures. That said, the usual LBD can absolutely be put on pause in favor of Bermuda shorts and knee-high boots—the fashion girl summer combo!
Summer 2025 fashion trends will be defined by two things: plush Labubus and silk scarves. I'm here to talk about the latter. The girlies have been hard at work tying bandanas artistically about their waists, heads, and chests for that "just got back from the South of France" aesthetic. My advice? Try wearing one as a top, styled with monochromatic add-ons for a painfully posh look.
Pile on all the season's buzziest hues for a bit of expert color-blocking. Butter yellow, chocolate brown, and powder pink all play harmoniously together.
If you've ever asked yourself "what goes with [insert color here]?," the answer is: more of that exact same color. Wearing the same hue from head to toe is bold, unapologetic, and unfailingly chic.
Kelsey (she/her) is a freelance digital fashion editor and writer with a knack for turning top-performing content into top-selling content. She has extensive experience in editorial and e-commerce strategy, having worked in both divisions during her years at Seventeen and Bustle. With more than a decade of experience in digital media, she also offers creative and social media consulting, as well as copywriting services. She enjoys cheeseburgers, traveling, and vintage hauls. Follow her on Instagram at @klstieg.

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Time Magazine
12 hours ago
- Time Magazine
'Alien: Earth' Reinvigorates a Flagging Franchise
A spacecraft hurtling through the cosmos. An indomitable female lead. Armed crew members creeping through dim, claustrophobic hallways where death could be lurking around any corner. A hostile alien that looks like a giant, bullet-headed scorpion in fetish gear and bleeds acid the color and consistency of infected snot. That ominous drip of extraterrestrial drool. These are the hallmarks of the Alien franchise, which have remained mostly consistent across the seven movies (plus two vacuous Alien vs. Predator crossovers) that have kept those terrifying Xenomorphs coming back to our screens every decade since the original premiered in 1979. Yet Alien has always been an elastic property. In 1986, James Cameron followed up Ridley Scott's minimal work of cosmic horror with Aliens, an action spectacle for a maximalist era. Hero Ellen Ripley's (Sigourney Weaver) lonely fight for survival gave way to a military mission to vanquish aliens ravaging a human colony; Cameron filled the frame with cocky Marines, boxy space tanks, and an adorable orphan who finds in Ripley a surrogate mother. Both films rank among the best in their respective genres. Subsequent features haven't been nearly as successful. In the '90s, David Fincher (Alien 3) and Amélie director Jean-Pierre Jeunet (Alien Resurrection), working from a script by Joss Whedon, mishandled the intellectual property. Even Scott's intriguing but convoluted 2010s origin stories and 2024's adequate Alien: Romulus (soon to be followed by a sequel of its own) do little to dispel the impression that the franchise's heyday ended 39 years ago. Especially in light of this history, FX's fantastic Alien: Earth—a prequel to Scott's movie that is also the first live-action Alien series—is a remarkable achievement. But I wouldn't call it a surprise. With ambitious small-screen takes on the Coen brothers masterpiece Fargo and the Marvel superhero Legion under his belt, the show's creator, Noah Hawley, has built a reputation on reinvigorating hard-to-adapt IP in series fueled by profound insight into what makes a decades-old story relevant now. In the case of Earth, premiering Aug. 12, the subjects of artificial intelligence and corporate overreach provide more than enough fodder for cerebral sci-fi horror grounded in the anxieties of 2025. Set in 2120, two years before Scott's Alien, Earth opens with parallel storylines. In space, the crew of the Maginot (whose name forebodingly references France's expensive but futile World War II Nazi defense) awakens from years of cryogenic slumber in preparation for a return to Earth. Their precious cargo, to be delivered to the franchise's canonical evil megacorp, Weyland-Yutani, is a menagerie of novel life forms, including some familiar-looking eggs. Of course, things go sideways. The creatures kill everyone except cutthroat security officer Morrow (Babou Ceesay), a cyborg. Meanwhile, on a terrestrial island called Neverland, trillionaire wunderkind Boy Kavalier (Samuel Blenkin) is using a secret technology he developed to transfer the consciousnesses of terminally ill children into synthetic, superhuman, theoretically immortal humanoid bodies. The first of these hybrids, our Ripley surrogate, christens herself Wendy (Sydney Chandler); in keeping with the Peter Pan theme, the kids she shepherds through the process will be named for Lost Boys. These plots literally collide when the Maginot falls to Earth, crash-landing in a city controlled by Kavalier's upstart company, Prodigy. (Viewers who remember the '90s may have intrusive thoughts of an AOL alternative with the same name.) Along with the many casualties, the accident has geopolitical as well as business implications. In the show's timeline, the world is ruled by a tenuous alliance of five massive companies, of which Yutani and Prodigy are two. Their rivalry in the race to immortality will ultimately decide the fate of the universe. A 22nd century disrupter in the mold of Uber or Airbnb, Prodigy is all-in on hybrids. Yutani may be plundering the wildlife of far-off planets in hopes they possess the secret to eternal life. Hawley uses this setup to reestablish the atmosphere Alien fans have come to expect: the tight corridors, the jump-scare attacks, the gross creatures, even the alien drool. Aesthetics have always been paramount to the franchise, particularly in Scott's movies; cybergoth artist H.R. Giger was famously instrumental in designing the look of the original, including the Xenomorph itself. Earth features similarly murky visuals and fearsome monsters, many original to the show. Just as eerie is its sound design, which evocatively captures, for instance, the squish of a scalpel slicing through alien flesh. Yet after a riveting first half of the premiere, too many slow-burn action and horror sequences all but arrest the development of the plot and characters until Episode 3. But the fourth episode is a revelation. Enthralling in its setup of a war between two psychopathic corporations that doubles as a battle for control of Earth, it's also rich with insight into the peculiar interiority of Wendy and the Lost Boys—who look like adults but see the world as kids, express emotions but reside in robotic bodies physically and mentally enhanced beyond the capacity of any mortal. ('What makes them geniuses is the fact that they're children,' Kavalier, now a young adult, theorizes. 'Because children have access to a world of infinite imagination.') Are they humans, robots, or both? 'We took the minds of children and put them in synthetic bodies,' a scientist overseeing the project, Arthur (David Rhysdahl), frets to his wife and colleague, Dame Sylvia (Essie Davis). 'If we did this wrong, we got a bunch of AIs running around thinking they're human. Worst case? We killed six kids.' From there, like a spaceship fleeing to the safety of its home solar system, Earth is firing on all cylinders: narrative, stylistic, psychological, philosophical. 'Science fiction has one main question,' Hawley argued in a recent interview, 'And that question is whether humanity deserves to survive—in all these stories of the first contact or going out into the universe and meeting species that are either smarter than us or more deadly than us.' This dilemma consumes what might be the most internationally influential sci-fi work of the current century, Chinese author Cixin Liu's The Three-Body Problem, which Netflix adapted last year as an English-language series. Even the new Superman movie flirts with the idea that our fractious species might be improved by an infusion of alien seed into the gene pool. As the climate crisis escalates, as deaths keep mounting in Gaza, Ukraine, and Sudan, as authoritarianism trends, it's not hard to see why storytellers are framing the prospect of extraterrestrials annihilating—or fundamentally altering—humanity as a potentially positive outcome for the planet, if not the universe. In Earth, that questioning takes the form of Hawley's critique of hypercapitalism and ambivalence toward AI. The Five, as the ruling syndicate is called, exerts unchecked financial and legal power over Earth's population. When Wendy's human brother Hermit (Alex Lawther), a Prodigy technical officer and medic, appeals to the company to release him from his contract so he can fulfill his dream of attending medical school, a synthetic arbitrator coldly rejects his request. Conceived before Donald Trump's return to Washington but rife with resonance about Elon Musk's stint there, the scene illustrates the dehumanizing potential of AI-abetted corporate supremacy. What, you may ask, does this all have to do with aliens? Well, you can't spell alien without AI; androids have always been part of the franchise, though the timely anxiety about human-synthetic hybrids is new. In Earth, the two are more thematically linked than ever. Both are superintelligent, lethal, existential threats to humanity—for which humanity has no one to blame but itself. Though one is a human innovation and the other hails from a distant world, neither would've posed a danger had greedy tech barons not released them from the Pandora's box of scientific progress. Some of the series' most subtly chilling scenes show aliens manipulating their captors with the ease of a person commanding a well-trained dog. So it makes sense that Wendy, who is at first fixated on reuniting with Hermit, comes to wonder whether she might feel more of an affinity with the specimens in the lab. By reframing aliens as a mirror of and metaphor for AI, while calling back to Aliens' villain, a murderously self-interested Weyland-Yutani employee (played by Paul Reiser as the archetypal '80s yuppie), Earth preserves the franchise's best tropes but also expands and updates its palette of ideas. Hawley has described his exploration of 'humanity and the terrible things that we do to each other' as a form of 'moral horror' layered beneath the 'body horror or creature horror.' The latter are still very much present, in new iterations of the movies' perennial pregnancy ick; one of the best episodes of the season could stand alone as a mini Alien feature. But it's the moral horror that makes Earth more than another goopy interplanetary melee. Hawley worked from a similar playbook with Legion, whose apparently schizophrenic superhero filtered a fast-evolving cultural conversation around mental illness through a psychedelic kaleidoscope, and especially Fargo. A quirky, darkly comedic crime anthology set, like the film, in a snowy Midwest, Fargo has cannily applied the Coens' good-vs.-evil framework to discourse around such fraught topics as gender and race. Hawley places infinite trust in his audience's intelligence and patience. Occasionally, as in the obscurity of Legion's later episodes or the plodding pace of some Fargo plots, this approach can verge on self-indulgence. But mostly, at a time when some streamers tailor their programs to avoid confusing viewers glued to their phones, it's refreshing to watch TV that treats you like an adult. Fargo's most haunting image comes at the very end of Season 3, written around the time of the 2016 election. An avatar for good and an embodiment of evil sit face-to-face, locked in an eternal clash of wills. 'There is a sense to which this year's Fargo is really a mirror reflecting our reality back to us at this moment in time, but we don't know how it's gonna end,' Hawley said when it aired. If that show suggests he's a moralist—one caught between optimism and pessimism about not just whether humanity will prevail, but about whether we should—Alien: Earth confirms it. And in this four-way staring contest that pits people against corporations, AI, and aliens, the permeable mammalian eye faces stiff competition indeed.
Yahoo
a day ago
- Yahoo
Single women are using Hinge to get their furniture built by matches — for free: ‘It felt like getting the boyfriend experience on a first date'
Move over, Mr. Right — Gen Z gals are looking for Mr. Fix-It. Savvy single ladies in NYC and beyond are treating the dating app Hinge like a handyman service —updating their profiles on the trendy pair-off platform to say they can be 'won over' by a man who can help them install, well, hinges. Dinner and drinks? Later for that — these practical women on the prowl say the ideal 'first date' includes hex keys and hammer drills. 'I feel like guys need a little job or mission, and then they feel so happy. They're like a golden retriever [dog] — they accomplished something and are happy to help,' Hinge habitué Storm Halestrap, 24, of Prospect Lefferts Gardens, Brooklyn, told The Post of the 'Bob the Builder' trend. The professional photographer participated in the handyman-hustling Hinge hack on social media, posting a video —albeit a cheeky one — back in April that showed a man crouched on the floor assembling a wooden table with a drill. 'POV: You get your Hinge date to build your new TikTok shop furniture,' the caption read. It turns out that the man featured is her current boyfriend, whom she did meet on the popular app, Halestrap told The Post, though she didn't nab him while looking for Mr. Fix-It. However, the impetus for her video was that she previously had multiple successes meeting similarly service-minded suitors on Hinge. During her senior year at Parsons School of Design, Halestrap matched with a finance bro shortly after moving to Midtown — and casually mentioned that her dark, tiny bedroom needed some sprucing up. 'I remember telling one of my Hinge matches about this and how I wanted plants to brighten up my room, and he said, 'Well, I think we have to do that for our first date — I'll buy you all the plants you need to fill your room,'' she recalled. The two got drinks to loosen up, then stumbled into Home Depot on the Upper East Side, where he filled her cart with greenery and helped haul it all back. A year earlier, while living in the East Village, she invited a different guy over who zeroed in on her bare bedroom walls and immediately offered to hang her frames — even insisting on buying nails and a lamp to brighten the space. 'I thought it was funny how I brought this guy into my bedroom, and his first thought was to start fixing things and telling me what I needed to fix in my room,' Halestrap recounted. Experts say the chivalry-tinged trend taps into a post-pandemic shift: ladies want utility — not just chemistry. 'It mimics the most traditional dynamic — the man fixes, the woman asks for help,' Dr. Jennifer Gunsaullus, a sociologist, speaker and founder of The Center for Courageous Intimacy, told The Post. 'The men get to impress through action — not just words — and show off problem-solving skills right from the jump,' she explained. Hinge declined to comment when contacted by The Post. The stories are popping up all over TikTok these days — with allegedly satisfied users showing off everything from built bed frames to hung cabinets. And after a Post reporter added a call for shelf-and-curtain-rod removal to their own Hinge profile, offers of help came hammering in — with get-it-done guys declaring their willingness to work before, during or after a date. 'I think this trend is super cute and nice to know that the guys want to help out. It shows that they're a good sport about it and the kind of person they are,' Teana Heys, 23, of Seattle, told The Post. Heys' TikTok telling of her own experience went viral last September, showing her former roommate in Phoenix and a Hinge match getting down to business — with a power drill. In the clip, the man is seen preparing to mount a TV on their wall as the cheeky caption declares: 'We're just girls utilizing our resources.' Heys told The Post that the roomie had proudly listed 'looking for a handyman' in her Hinge bio — and was met with enthusiastic prospects. 'A lot of guys actually responded to it, asking her what she needed fixed,' she said. Another Seattle resident, Rimika Banerjee, 24, had similar success reaching out for help after a recent move. 'I was anticipating having to build all the furniture myself — it was stressful,' Banerjee told The Post. 'I remember thinking, 'This is a situation where it would be nice to have a boyfriend,' but I didn't, so I just went straight to Hinge.' Banerjee said the handyman hook was her hottest Hinge prompt yet — racking up more matches and messages than any flirty one-liner ever could, resulting in her ideal meet-up. 'He helped build my bed frame and was one of the nicest guys I've met on Hinge,' she said. 'It felt like getting the boyfriend experience on a first date.' Banerjee said building furniture together took the pressure off, created instant chemistry, and helped break the ice — and even though the pair didn't end up dating, it made what would have been a chore into a happy experience. 'These tasks can be annoying, but if you have an attractive guy around, they can be more fun,' she explained. 'It mimics a real-life partner situation.' But while relationship expert Gunsaullus applauded the 'authentic' nature of the DIY dates, calling them 'refreshing,' they're not without risks, she warned. 'Letting someone into your home on a first date is serious. You should ask yourself: Do I really trust this person?' she said, recommending at least a few meetups — preferably three — before inviting anyone in for a home project. Gunsaullus also raised concerns about men feeling exploited, particularly if they're unaware they're being filmed for social media clout. 'I would hate for a man to just feel used … like he was handy and social media fodder,' she said. Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
a day ago
- Yahoo
HER's new 'Feelings' feature makes intros less awkward
In May, Match Group (the dating app conglomerate that owns Tinder, Hinge, and others) acquired HER, a dating app for queer women, nonbinary, and trans sapphics. While things have been relatively quiet on the surface since the buy-out, HER did roll out a new feature this summer called "Feelings." It's akin to a status update, designed to help users communicate more confidently and honestly upfront, and — as the name suggests — share how they're feeling. "Feelings" are tags you can add to your profile to let potential matches know what you're looking for or what kind of mood you're in. You can also add a short note next to your "Feeling" tag to elaborate a little more. Once you set a "Feeling," it'll show up on your profile, Meet (the app's discovery feature), matches, and chats. This way, all bases are covered, and there's no way someone else can pretend you're blindsiding them with your intentions. "Feelings" disappear in 48 hours to help you keep things fresh. Using the "Feelings" feature is pretty simple. All you have to do is go to your profile page, and you should see a "How are you feeling?" prompt at the top. Tap it and browse your options. Examples include "Just talking," "Go on a date," "Flirty," and "Hook up." You can choose up to three and add a line of text, if you'd like. Then just click "update my Feelings." If you see a "Feeling" tag that you relate to on someone else's profile, you can even tap a little plus sign (+) to add it to your own. At the end of the day, the goal is to have better conversations with less anxiety. No more wondering if the other person is looking for something casual when you're on the hunt for a life partner, or vice versa. Solve the daily Crossword