President Joe Biden spoke on Monday to Florida Governor Ron DeSantis, a 2024 challenger, to tell him he

Fans swooned over Ana Navarro as 'The View' host shares a picture with her husband Al Cardenas and dog ChaCha

Prime Minister Rishi Sunak committed to granting hundreds of new licenses for oil and gas production in the

'My Big Fat Fabulous Life' star Whitney Thore organizes a party for her father, Glenn, in Babs' memory

Cut through the half-truths and urban legends to find out more about Friday the 13th, the unluckiest day on the calendar.

Sangsoon reveals his unconventional journey from serving in the South Korean military to becoming a magician

Diageo Plc’s sales growth cooled, especially in North America, after a post-pandemic boost wore off. Sales advanced 6.5%

Democratic Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York said Sunday that some Supreme Court justices are "destroying the legitimacy of the court," amid a lack of oversight, calling it "profoundly dangerous" for democracy.

A recent book called The Queer Parent, written by Lotte Jeffs and Stu Oakley, calmly opens with the line: “Ninety per cent of queer parenting is simply… parenting”. It’s a fair point. Whether you’re male, female or non-binary, single or partnered, and regardless of your sexuality, all of us who parent aim to meet the exact same needs for our children, day in, day out. The title caught my attention because I think there’s something very timely and profound about the act of being a gay or queer parent today. It’s doing the work that many (dare I say most) people want to see in society – namely raising a new generation of non-toxic humans, making the world a happier place to be different – but in the slow grind of parenthood, not just in the quick flash of activism. I really believe gay and queer parents are changing the world, in a very deep yet unsexy way. Mum and mummy being at the school gate, dad and daddy collecting a child from nursery, or as we’ll get into, dad giving birth to a baby son or daughter. They’re changing the world by being active, visible and engaged parents. But there’s a slightly awkward, under-discussed aspect to this that has truly got under my skin in the eight years since I’ve been a parent. I’m pansexual, so I fancy men as well as women, non-binary people and pans. But oddly I’ve always been frightened to talk about parenthood with most of my avowedly gay male friends – because I’m never quite sure if anyone’s going to derogatorily refer to me as a “breeder” or not. It’s hard to know how well-known the term “breeder” is. I personally used to hear it a lot more back in the mid-Noughties when I was in my early twenties. It’s essentially a slightly bitchy term that’s interchangeably derogatory to people with kids and/or straight people as a whole. As a word, it’s a pretty effective zinger. Straight people have tended to use sexual imagery to define and denigrate gay people. It seems fair that gay people would do the same to heterosexuals. “Breeder” reduces the pleasures of sex to a slightly dehumanised process. In fact, unconnected to sexuality, Gulliver’s Travels author Jonathan Swift used the term to reduce people to a brutal, almost farmyard functionality in a satirical essay from 1729. It’s important to establish that I’m not here to spank gay men on the bum. Neither am I here to accuse them of “heterophobia” either – which I’ve put in quote marks because I’m dubious that it can even exist as a concept. If I was an exclusively gay guy, I might robustly define my sexuality against heteronormativity in ways which could be punchy and sharp. I might also – by virtue of a lifetime of homophobia and trauma that may have started in the home as a child – have latently negative views about the whole concept of family. But I am who I am now, and despite understanding all this, I’m still getting weary of it as a trope, and also as a reason not to talk about the many genuine ecstasies of parenthood. I like being a dad and I like dating guys. These things shouldn’t be so controversial – yet weirdly, I find it’s gay men who have more slack-jawed incomprehension of these two facts than any other group in society. My own personal beef is very trifling in the scheme of things, however. The much bigger picture is that – newsflash – gay, queer and trans people have kids. Loads of them. While data is limited, there was a 40 per cent rise in same-sex parents from 2015 to 2019. Anecdotally, it seems to be a much greater phenomenon than is reported. The same goes for the rarely examined hardships LGBT+ people typically go through to even have kids: namely the incredible anguish of IVF and the epic emotional journey of surrogacy. You’d expect increased visibility of gay and queer parents would have phased out the use of the word “breeder” as a pejorative, but weirdly it lives on – especially on TikTok where, perhaps like an unkillable echo of my own twenties, it’s mostly young people using the word as a way of defining their queerness and riling up straights. What makes my heart sink, beyond knowing that a younger generation is using the same dumb-ass words people said 20 years ago, is that this is a really, really bad time to start being unsupportive of gay parents. While queer visibility may feel greater than ever, the world is going backwards in many respects. Even just in the realm of children’s culture, things as harmless as a drag artist reading stories can draw an angry mob of culture warriors – as happened at Tate Britain in London in February. Look at Florida – once the home of fictional queer icons The Golden Girls, now home to Republican governor and presidential hopeful Ron DeSantis – and you’ll see books with titles as benign as This Book Is Gay banned as a result of his vociferously “anti-woke” legislation. We all know that creating this type of hostile environment will surely result in more bullying, more hatred, more lives blighted. While queer visibility may feel greater than ever, the world is going backwards in many respects It’s pathetic, cruel yet grimly successful at the same time. With every small news story or stunt, a palpable hostility festers. Thus anything that drives a wedge between gay/queer people and parenthood is a bad look right now – especially with elections looming in the US and Britain that I fear will see the issue of gender identity playing a huge, calculatedly divisive role. What better way to rebuff this negativity than by strongly standing up for gay and queer parents. Specifically, we could start standing up for men having babies. Trans men like the British journalist Freddy McConnell who a few years back gave birth to a child who seems to be doing great (and likes a good splash in the sea), or Iowa-born Tanius Posey, who thankfully was able to breastfeed his child despite simultaneously getting online abuse for it. Logan Brown, also from the UK, is a trans man who has been documenting his pregnancy over the past few months with genuine clarity and candour. He gave birth to his daughter Nova just over a week ago. Celebrated gay NYC artist Keith Haring frequently placed a baby into his work, a shining symbol of hope and playful optimism for the future. Maybe in the same spirit as Haring, we could all do with a new beginning in our attitudes to gay and queer parenting, inspired by a rather miraculous baby such as Nova. Read More How OCD can destroy relationships: ‘I had the obsessive fear that I might cheat’ Women with body hair remain a cultural taboo, and I can’t see it changing Flip-flops, nudity and ‘up the vajayjay!’: How the red carpet became a platform for protest

Manchester United have signed Women's World Cup top scorer Hinata Miyazawa, the...

Few are worthy of the title influencer like Matilda Djerf. An icon for many young women around the globe, fans of the 26-year-old have gone crazy for her style, which explains why her brand, Djerf Avenue, has made millions of dollars. Djerf founded her clothing brand in 2019 with her partner and CEO Rasmus Johansson. Since 2019 Djerf Avenue has gone beyond clothes, releasing accessories and homeware which have been adored by fans. She is calling me from her office, I compliment her on her outfit - from Djerf Avenue, of course - and she thanks me, explaining that it's "forever blazer" day at the office, an initiative from the social media team for all to wear the company's forever blazers, a customer favourite. She looks put together and cheery, the image we see on social media does not seem a fake one, her golden hair intact as always. Our conversation starts with us talking about her life before Djerf Avenue and internet fame. "I come from a small town, if you dress up or if you dress a little bit differently than the rest of people, it's a little bit frowned upon." But it is Djerf's style that has got her where she is today, her daring to be different generated $34 million in revenue last year for her brand. And the hype around Djerf and her clothes doesn't look as though it's dying down anytime soon. It's not easy to be so fashionable that the majority of young women want to replicate your style. I wanted to find out what influenced the fashion influencer. Apart from Hannah Montanna, which I think all women who grew up watching the Disney show can relate to, Djerf speaks fondly of her mother, Ulrika, who features prominently on both Djerf's social media and Djerf Avenue's marketing. "My mum has always been my fashion icon, not caring what other people think," she tells me. "She does her own thing. Which has inspired to do my own thing!" Family is clearly central to how Djerf lives her life, they constantly feature on her social media, with her parents and sister often modelling Djerf Avenue's clothes. "I'm a true homebody, I've always enjoyed just being surrounded by my family," she says with a grin on her face, telling me about her childhood and family vacations. "Since the start [of Djerf Avenue] they've always been my biggest cheerleaders." The early days of Djerf Avenue was just Matilda and her partner Rasmus. They had no team and did everything themselves, but Matilda's family were there to help. "When we did our first shoot they [Djerf's parents] came with us, they've seen everything, they even helped us pack orders for the first few months." With over 3 million followers on Instagram, it can be hard to stay grounded within yourself as you're bombarded by the opinions of millions of strangers online. "The support of my friends and family is all I really need," she tells me. "I'm so grateful to have a safe space." Djerf's family and friends' support was prominent just a few months back when Djerf Avenue hosted a pop-up store in New York, accompanied by their first-ever fashion show for their Remake Collection, which was hosted at the Guggenheim Museum. "The possibilities in New York just felt endless," she says as she explains her choice of New York for the brand's third pop-up (their first was held in LA last year and their second in Stockholm earlier this year). "But whenever we do something in person it feels daunting. I'm always really nervous that nobody's going to show up or nobody's going to like it." Despite Djerf's nerves, it seemed she had nothing to worry about. Across the three days the pop-up was open (Aug 31 - Sept 2), social media was flooded with pictures of those queuing up to purchase both fan-favourite items and pop-up exclusives. "The team work so hard to make it happen, we pour so much love, energy and time into every single project that we do," and I can tell through the screen. Djerf is evidently animated and passionate about her business and the team that helps make everything run smoothly. But despite the nervous energy that inevitably comes with such enormous projects, Djerf trusts the community she's built up over the years. "Our community is the most loving community and I know they will show up. It's what makes me always want to make sure we're doing everything we can to give our community the best possible experience." "I think about how much time these people are taking from their lives to stand in line at our pop-ups, and they spend their money on our items, so I never want to fall short. The pressure is really daunting, but it gets me going." The pop-up was followed by a fashion show at the Guggenheim Museum on September 3, where the brand debuted its Remake Collection. The models were fans of Djerf Avenue (including Matilda's mum) and showcased diversity at its centre. "I wanted to show the fashion world, you don't need to look one kind of way to be able to walk a runway," she explains. "We wanted to capture the beauty of our individual community members." "I want to meet our UK customers!" She exclaimed. "If it gets to September next year with no news you need to message me 'Matilda where's the pop up!'" I assure her, and on behalf of all UK Djerf Avenue customers, to message her if this is the case. "But there's so many places in the world we want to go, it's hard to narrow it down." Naturally, I had to use my opportunity to ask about any upcoming collections or releases, and Matilda managed to tell me so much and so little at the same time. "We're just getting started, we're actually going into a completely new category which I'm really excited about, and that will be launching around Spring 2024. It's been years in the making." "On top of that we're doing our first-ever collaboration with a person this year. That's coming up very, very soon!" Finally, as our conversation draws to a close I ask her if there are any goals she has for herself or Djerf Avenue in the next five years. And in typical Matilda Djerf fashion, she tells me: "I've never had like, a three-year plan or a five-year plan. Where was I even five years ago?" "So much happens even in a month, so it's so hard to dream up where I will be in five years. But really, I'm always thinking about what I can do to give back. I want people, especially young women entrepreneurs, to look up to me. I want to inspire." Sign up to our free Indy100 weekly newsletter Have your say in our news democracy. Click the upvote icon at the top of the page to help raise this article through the indy100 rankings. How to join the indy100's free WhatsApp channel

The Lionesses have landed back in the UK after their World Cup final defeat as fans gathered at the airport in the hopes of welcoming them home. Around 40 people brought England flags and handmade banners to Heathrow Airport on Tuesday morning, with one group having arrived on Monday night, but the team are understood to have left via a private exit after touching down just after 6.30am. Others brought flowers for head coach Sarina Wiegman, while placards featured messages saying, ‘You all made us proud,’ and ‘Can we have two T-shirts please?’ Hopes were raised when former England player and presenter Alex Scott was spotted walking through arrivals, with fans saying she hinted the team would follow, and the crowd burst out into chants of “Sweet Caroline”. The team’s bags with the squad logo were also carried through. Hope turned to disappointment when it was later confirmed by airport staff that the Lionesses had left the airport and the crowd soon dispersed. A small number of fans watched at arrivals for a little longer just to be sure they had not missed out on any action. Joanne Bruce, 51, travelled from Wisbech in Cambridgeshire to the airport at 10.30pm on Monday with her niece and sister in the hope of thanking the team for their tournament performance. She told the PA news agency: “We haven’t slept, we have just laughed and joked. It was just the three of us to start with. My sister was like, ‘I really want to go early’.” When asked if there any other fans were at the airport then she replied: “No, no, no. They didn’t come until about four o’clock this morning. We have now got a car parking ticket of £70-80, maybe more. “I was very, very disappointed [about the final result]. Seeing Millie [Bright, captain] with tears in her eyes, it just brought tears to my eyes. I really felt for them as well. “They have definitely done us proud, to get as far as they have.” Read More Pubs call for rule change after Lionesses fans made to wait until half-time for beer England’s impact will last far longer than pain of World Cup final defeat The bitter aftertaste of that unwanted World Cup kiss on the lips