Ariel Levy

“Renée Bach went to Uganda to save children—but many in her care died. Was she responsible?”

A profile of filmmaker Nicole Holofcener, whose movies — from her 1996 debut, “Walking and Talking,” to the as yet to be released “Land of Steady Habits” — are informed to varying degrees by her own experiences.

A profile of comedian and writer Ali Wong, whose work takes on the last taboos of female sexuality: pregnancy and motherhood.

The ancient South American hallucinogen ayahuasca has become America’s psychedelic drug du jour, with everyone from Baby Boomers and Millennials to the Silicon Valley set seeking its potent revelations about harmony and interspecies unity. To hear the plants speak, all you need is money and some strength of mind.

A 2007 profile of the late New York artist Dash Snow and his downtown crew.

Ariel Levy on her discomfort with the idea a “real” wedding, and the experience of planning her own.

Ariel Levy’s devastating personal essay on losing her baby:

I had been so lucky. Very little had ever truly gone wrong for me before that night on the bathroom floor. And I knew, as surely as I now knew that I wanted a child, that this change in fortune was my fault. I had boarded a plane out of vanity and selfishness, and the dark Mongolian sky had punished me. I was still a witch, but my powers were all gone.

That is not what the doctor said when he came back to the clinic in the morning.

When I was fourteen years old, I decided it was time to lose my virginity. Precocity had always been my thing. As an only child, I spent most of my youth around adults, which made me sound sort of like one. By early adolescence I had become so accustomed to being told I was mature, it seemed obvious to me that this next benchmark had to be hit early in order to maintain my identity. I was curious about sex. But mostly, I had a reputation to uphold. (I was pretty much the only person interested in this reputation.)

These days, you would have to possess an unusually pure mind to look at that pool full of young women without picturing the pool at Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi’s estate, Arcore, just outside Milan. Along with the basement disco and the upstairs bedrooms, the pool is featured almost daily in Italian newspapers as one of the sites where the Presidente reportedly hosted scores of orgies—or, as they have become known around the world, Bunga Bungas.

Is the wayward Republican Mike Huckabee now his party’s best hope?