Actor Lar Park Lincoln, best known for her roles in the “Friday the 13th” horror franchise and the soap opera “Knots Landing” has died at the age of 63.
The Dallas-based audition coach and entrepreneur died April 22 after a 45-year career in Hollywood performing and mentoring other actors, Lincoln’s company Actors Audition Studios confirmed on Facebook.
The TV star’s death came after having previously battled breast cancer, according to The Hollywood Reporter, though a cause of death was not confirmed. Her late husband of 14 years, Michael, died in late 2015 after battling cancer, the outlet reported.
Her brothers Jack Jr. and Pat also died before her, as well as her parents Jack and Marjorie Dale, Actors Audition Studios said. A mother of two, Lincoln is survived by her daughter Piper and her son Trevor as well her sister Karen, brother Michael, four grandchildren and countless others.
The family is requesting privacy and is referring all donations be made to either the SAG-AFTRA Foundation or The Entertainment Community Fund.
Lincoln best known for role as Linda Fairgate
Throughout her illustrious in Hollywood, Lincoln performed in various film and television projects.
However, she is arguably most recognized for her reoccurring role as Linda Fairgate in “Knots Landing.” The soap opera aired between 1979 and 1993 and starred Michelle Phillips, Michele Lee, Joan Van Ark, Donna Mills, Ted Shackelford, Kevin Dobson and more.
She is also widely recognized for portraying telekinetic Tina Shepard in 1988’s “Friday the 13th: The New Blood.”
In 2008, she published a memoir titled “Get Started Not Scammed,” where she shared insight across the acting, modeling and pageant industries.
More than a decade later she founded Actors Audition Studios in Dallas, where she offered a unique audition and on-camera training program venturing away from traditional coaching methods, according its website.
Drag performer and “RuPaul’s Drag Race” alum Jiggly Caliente is stepping away from the stage after suffering a medical ordeal.
The Filipino American TV personality, whose real name is Bianca Castro, was forced to have her right leg amputated following a “severe” infection, Caliente’s family shared in an April 24 statement on her official Instagram page.
“The family of Bianca Castro, known to many as the beloved drag performer Jiggly Caliente, is heartbroken to share that over the last month Bianca has experienced a serious health setback,” the statement read. “Due to a severe infection, she was hospitalized and, as a result, has undergone the loss of most of her right leg.”
USA TODAY has reached out to Caliente’s representatives for comment.
Caliente, 44, is most well known in the RuPaul universe for her appearance on “Drag Race” Season 4, where she came in eighth place. The drag queen, whose stage name takes inspiration from the Pokémon character Jigglypuff, also starred in the sixth season of “RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars” in 2021.
In recent years, Caliente has lent her drag expertise to the next generation of Filipino queens. She served as a judge on the first three seasons of “Drag Race Philippines,” an international spinoff that showcases drag artists from the Southeast Asian country.
As a result of her leg injury and “extensive” recovery process, Caliente will not be appearing on the show’s next season or participating in public engagements “for the foreseeable future,” Caliente’s family confirmed on Instagram.
“At this time, we kindly ask for privacy for Bianca and her family as they navigate this difficult journey together,” the statement concluded. “While Jiggly concentrates on healing, we invite her friends, fans, and community to uplift her with messages of hope and love on her social media channels.
Bianca’s family and drag house are deeply grateful for the continued outpouring of support, strength, and prayers.”
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‘RuPaul’s Drag Race’ alumni show support for Jiggly Caliente
Several members of Caliente’s “Drag Race” family took to the comments section to share their well-wishes for the drag queen, including “RuPaul’s Drag Race” co-host Michelle Visage.
“We love you so much my sweet jiggles and we are praying with all we’ve got,” Visage wrote.
“Jiggly I love you so much,” Bob the Drag Queen wrote. “You always keep it so real. A true diva. Heal up sis.”
The Vivienne: ‘RuPaul’s Drag Race UK’ star’s cause of death revealed
“There’s nothing I can say to ease your pain, your anxiety, your hurt, your sorrow. But I just had to message regardless and say I’m sorry this has happened to you,” Nina Bo’nina Brown wrote. “Hopefully overtime, time will heal your physical and mental wounds.”
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Pedro Pascal is calling out J.K. Rowling for her “disgusting” anti-trans viewpoints.
The “Last of Us” star, 50, slammed the “Harry Potter” author, 59, after an Instagram video posted April 17 argued that she was “reveling” in the U.K. Supreme Court’s ruling against trans women.
Pedro commented on the video, writing that the words “awful” and “disgusting” are the “right” way to describe the British author’s views, adding that Rowling engaged in “heinous LOSER behavior.”
USA TODAY reached out to reps for Pascal. Rowling’s rep declined to comment.
J.K. Rowling celebrated UK Supreme Ciyrt ruling with a cigar. Backlash was swift.
The pair are on opposite ends of the global conversation about gender and trans rights: Pascal, the brother of trans actress Lux, is a pro-trans advocate while Rowling has long espoused anti-trans views.
J.K. Rowling courted backlash for cigar picture after U.K. anti-trans ruling
The U.K.’s highest court ruled on April 16 that the definition of a woman under equality legislation referred to “biological sex” and that trans women with gender recognition certificates are not protected from discrimination as a woman under Britain’s Equality Act.
In several posts on X, Rowling celebrated “terfs” and referred to the ruling as “TERF VE Day,” a play on V-E Day, the formal end of World War II and Nazi occupation in Europe. Since 2019, Rowling has been labeled a “terf,” or trans-exclusionary radical feminist, for her anti-trans beliefs that conflate sex with gender and suggest that changing one’s biological sex threatens her own gender identity.
“I love it when a plan comes together,” Rowling posted to X alongside “#SupremeCourt” and “#WomensRights” while beachside with a drink and a cigar. Rowling reportedly donated £70,000 (about $93,000) to For Women Scotland, the campaign group that argued the case, according to U.K. news outlet The Times.
While the court said trans people would not be disadvantaged by the decision, critics worry it could lead to discrimination, especially regarding employment issues.
Pedro Pascal wore a ‘protect the dolls’ shirt to raise awareness for trans rights
Pascal has become a walking billboard for trans rights, pleasing fans and advocates alike. At the London premiere of his new film “Thunderbolts” on April 22, Pascal wore a white “support the dolls” shirt with black lettering.
The shirt is used to express support for trans women, who are sometimes referred to as dolls. Fashion designer Conner Ives created the shirt and wore it at London Fashion Week in February. He told The New York Times that he woke up the morning after his fashion week show with a flood of emails asking where to buy it.
Pedro Pascal wears ‘protect the dolls’ shirt at ‘Thunderbolts’ red carpet: See photo
According to Ives’ website, proceeds from the sale of the shirt are being donated to Trans Lifeline, a nonprofit that offers support to trans people in crisis. Weeks before Ives debuted the shirt, President Donald Trump announced the federal government would recognize only two sexes, male and female.
In his personal life, Pascal has shown public support for his little sister. In an Esquire interview from 2023, Pascal said his sister has “always been one of the most powerful people and personalities I’ve ever known,” adding that “my protective side is lethal, but I need her more than she needs me.”
Contributing: Brendan Morrow, Clare Mulroy, USA TODAY
Elizabeth Diller’s office is in a corner of a huge, open-plan loft in a former warehouse building in Chelsea. I meet her on a Friday afternoon, when the office is Friday-quiet and the sun is sparkling on the Hudson. The building, which occupies an entire city block, once had freight trains running into it.
It’s a nice reminder that Diller Scofidio + Renfro, the studio she co-founded with her husband Ricardo Scofidio in 1981 (Charles Renfro became partner in 2004), is best known for the High Line. The transformation of a disused freight rail line into what has become an astonishingly successful elevated linear park radically remade the landscape of Manhattan’s west side a couple of blocks away.
I’m apologetic about conducting the interview now. Only a few weeks before, Scofidio died. Diller’s colleagues had assured me that she was happy to be distracted by talking about her work.
It is tinged with sadness, but this year brings the practice back into the global spotlight. On May 31 the V&A East Storehouse will open on the edge of London’s Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. Sited in part of the huge former Olympics Media Centre it is an ingenious reuse of an existing structure and represents a remarkable opening up of the museum’s massive collection. At the Venice Biennale meanwhile there is a bookshop and an installation that makes coffee out of canal water.
We came out of the institutional critique but then we realised that it was people like us who were now running the institutions
All these projects appear closer in intellectual ambition — rethinking institutions, technology and public space — to Diller and Scofidio’s early work than they do to the big architecture their studio has become known for. A classic example of the latter is the Shed, situated a few blocks away from their office — a transformable blockbuster which acts as the cultural component for the Hudson Yards development. Nearby is Pier 57, turned into a massive tech-campus on the water for Google. Just beyond that is their 88-storey 15 Hudson Yards, one of the city’s best recent skyscrapers.
The list continues across the globe, from Los Angeles, where they are working on a new phase of the Broad art museum, to Adelaide, where the Tarrkarri Centre for First Nations Cultures is emerging from Kaurna land. There is also the Al-Mujadilah Center and Mosque for Women in Qatar, the first contemporary purpose-built mosque for women in the world. It is a remarkable building with a perforated concrete carpet of a roof floating over it; bright, light, fluid and open.
Yet when Diller and Scofidio broke onto the scene they were known for challenging the orthodoxies of the big builders, the late modernists and the postmodernists. They were doing something more nimble, working in galleries and on paper, in academia and in text. “There was a kind of resistance,” Diller tells me, “that came with the 1970s.” (She still sports the same radical chic almost-quiff and black-framed glasses she did half a century ago.)
“I lived down in the East Village and New York was quite depressed then, post-industrial but pre-anything. It was the time when artists could find huge lofts. The space allowed you to do experimental work, down and dirty and very liberating.”
If she seems the archetypal New Yorker, Diller was actually born in Poland in 1958 and moved with her family to the US in 1960. She studied at the Cooper Union School of Architecture where she met Scofidio — who was one of her tutors. Their first work together, says Diller, was Traffic in 1981. It was a 24-hour installation of thousands of orange traffic cones in the traffic island of Columbus Circle, a striking piece of visual protest about the sheer waste of public space incurred by traffic engineering.
Their first major architectural moment came two decades later and was hardly a building at all. Blur Building, built for the Swiss National Exposition in 2002, was a skeletal structure set on Lake Neuchâtel which was enveloped in a cloud of vapour so that the pavilion vanished.
“Expos were all about showing off technology,” Diller says, “so we made a decidedly lo-fi project, a critique. It was controlled by an early AI system, learning from its own information. We made a space where there was nothing to see.”
It was inspired, Diller tells me, by the writings of French philosopher Hubert Damisch. But it was also fun, something children could enjoy as much as adults. And it was pure experience. The architects resisted the temptation to resurrect it somewhere else — it now exists as a memory.
Their 1989 show at MoMA still haunts the architectural imagination. Para-Site was a sinister installation of cameras and strange mechanisms which surveilled the audience. “It was critical,” she says, “about the way people look at the museum and the way the museum looks at them.” Three decades later they would redesign MoMA itself.
Another piece, Soft Sell (1993), consisted of footage of a vivid red-lipsticked mouth projected on to an abandoned porn theatre in Manhattan. “We were happy,” Diller tells me. “We were the first architects ever to receive a MacArthur grant [in 1999] and that validated that what we were doing was architecture. It was critical, social, political. We were teaching too and the idea of doing professional architecture never really entered my mind.
“We came out of the institutional critique but then we realised that it was people like us who were now running the institutions. We went from cutting up walls to building them. The thing is, now we realise that we really want those institutions. That is what civil society is.”
Diller shows me the practice’s new book, its first monograph. It has a curious format: two books bound together. One part is titled simply “Architecture”, the other “Not Architecture” — split between the buildings and the writings, art and conceptual projects. It’s a labour of love, and the perfect encapsulation of the move from institutional critique to institution building.
Now her practice is building like mad. It has no established single style, looking at each project as a new experience. “If societies and cities change,” Diller asks me, rhetorically, “how does architecture keep up? It’s slow, heavy and expensive. How do you produce architecture that doesn’t default to the generic?”
She points to the Lincoln Center, on which her practice has been working for decades, slowly upgrading the public and performance spaces, as a defining project. But also, more surprisingly, to 9/11. “New York had gone through this trauma but there was something new in the air, a sense of citizenship. With the High Line we felt like architecture could do something for the city.” But the High Line also became a conduit for hyper-gentrification, an accelerator for development on either side, which has ended up looking like a kind of architectural menagerie. Diller rolls her eyes a little, well aware.
In Venice the practice will be involved on three separate sites. With the V&A it will explore the architecture of storage, in an installation that will focus on the storage life of a toothbrush as a way of exploring global supply chains, containerisation, warehousing and retail practice.
The firm will also be designing a new temporary bookshop of the Biennale, a delicate, temporary tensile structure and another intervention, an intriguing-sounding installation which will filter and transform Venice canal water into espresso. “I’ll be drinking the first cup,” she shoots before I can ask any more questions.
Roula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.
My apartment in Brooklyn Heights has glorious bay windows, but it never receives any direct sunlight. That’s because it’s blocked by a hulking Italianate hotel called the Bossert, once the smartest place in the borough, now more or less deserted. At sunset, its frilled facade glows an intense pink; at night, ghostly lights flicker across the windows of its 14 floors in an impenetrable rhythm. It’s garlanded by a ring of New York’s distinctive forest green scaffolding, but if you peer between gaps you might see the low glimmer of chandeliers beneath gilded columns and a painted coffered ceiling.
When I moved to New York in 2021, the lack of sunlight was annoying, but I wasn’t planning to stick around. Just nine months living in an apartment rented from a friend, I told myself, then back to London. But a masters degree became a job, and before long I was another stuck-in-limbo fixture in a city that’s constantly changing. A live music bar nearby became luxury apartments; a 19th-century Catholic college I liked to cycle past became luxury apartments; even the regular apartments in the brownstone next-door became luxury apartments. That summer, the nonstop drilling on the wall that separated our two buildings sent the cockroaches living there into my bedroom.
In New York, you’re so accustomed to the perpetual construction that it can take a while to realise a boarded-up building is not actually being worked on. The Bossert, despite seemingly twice yearly headlines in the local press announcing its imminent reopening, has been closed for more than ten years. My obsession with it began with irritation: the lack of light, the scaffolding darkening the street when I went to the shops; that demented light show every night. What the hell was happening over there?
Built by a lumber magnate in 1909, the Bossert had it all: a two-storey rooftop bar and nightclub with views of the Statue of Liberty, an in-house nail salon and a restaurant designed by Joseph Urban, the man behind Mar-a-Lago. The Dodgers celebrated their World Series win in 1955 beneath its chandeliers in a party that spilled out into the streets.
But the Bossert faded with the neighbourhood and, after an insalubrious few decades as a single occupancy hotel popular with sailors docking at the nearby navy yards, it was leased by the Jehovah’s Witnesses from 1983 and then bought by the group in 1988.
The Witnesses were by all accounts fastidious owners, and carefully restored the grand interiors of the building, which they used to house staff and guests. In 2012 the Bossert was bought for $81mn by Joseph Chetrit and David Bistricer, who planned to turn it back into a boutique hotel. And then — nothing.
Throughout this period of developmental purgatory, a handful of rent-stabilised tenants has continued to call the hotel home. The only sign of them comes at dusk, when a couple of dirty squares of light illuminate the blackening windows.
Hotels are places you’re meant to leave — a fact that becomes even more stark when the building is empty and no one replaces the last guest
They reminded me of the more feted residents of another tortured New York hotel project: the Hotel Chelsea, once home to Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe, among many other artists, but which closed to guests for redevelopment in 2011, finally reopening in 2022.
The Hotel Chelsea’s 2010s residents were often described as haunting the building. Hotels are places you’re meant to leave — a fact that becomes even more stark when the building is empty and no one replaces the last guest. As one of the Bossert tenants told New York Magazine in 2021: “We are like the people left behind . . . You’re interacting with the world out there where time keeps moving — but in here, everything is freeze-framed.”
No one likes to be left behind, but a lot of us know how to make a place feel like home even when it’s temporary. That’s especially true in a city as transient as New York, with its rising rents and steady churn of newcomers. But sometimes, the temporary stretches out to become a kind of permanent.
In my one-bedroom apartment with its high ceilings and walls hung with someone else’s pictures, I bought a vacuum cleaner, a bike and beach chairs to drag up to the roof deck. Over time, I covered the mantlepiece with knick-knacks and the fridge with magnets. I hosted dinners on the roof in the summer, and sweltered in the winter heat of the ferocious steam radiators.
I loved hearing the soft horn of the distant Staten Island ferry as I fell asleep. I battled the moths. And I became obsessed with the hotel blocking my sunlight. What was meant to be a timeout from “real life” in London became my real life; a borrowed apartment became a home.
I’m luckier than most — my rent never went up, and my friend never asked me to leave her apartment. While New York rents plummeted during the pandemic, they’ve been climbing steadily in the years since, with a median rise of 16.3 per cent between 2019 and 2024. All the while, buildings like the Bossert and the city’s many other stalled construction projects gather dust as people pack up their lives and move somewhere cheaper.
I like to think about the Bossert residents who stayed, but I know at the same time that this expensive, empty structure also represents all of the people who couldn’t.
This February, I told my family I was moving back to London. Around the same time, the Bossert foreclosed and was sold. Maybe it will open again as a hotel, or apartments and time will unfreeze for its tenants. By then, it’ll be someone else looking out of my tall bay windows as tourists come and go, perhaps irritated by the influx of visitors to our sleepy neighbourhood. But I hope they’ll know, as I do, that anywhere can be home for someone, even if they only stay for the shortest time — or longer than expected.
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Pete Davidson’s tattoo removal journey will be neither brief nor cheap.
The former “Saturday Night Live” star, 31, revealed in an interview with Variety published April 23 that he has spent $200,000 on getting all of his tattoos removed, and he isn’t even halfway finished.
“It’s a pretty uncomfortable amount of money to disclose, but I think one of the tabloids already leaked it,” Davidson told Variety. “I’ve already spent like 200K and I’m like 30% done. So, like, it’s gonna suck.”
The comedian also said it may take another 10 years before all of his tattoos are gone, noting he still has “to do my torso and back.” Davidson, who has opened up about his mental health struggles and borderline personality disorder diagnosis, reflected that he wanted to remove his tattoos because he got them done during a time when he “wasn’t taking care of” himself.
“I used to be a drug addict and I was a sad person, and I felt ugly and that I needed to be covered up,” he told Variety. “And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with tattoos, but mine, when I look at them, I remember a sad person that was very unsure. So I’m just removing them and starting fresh, because that’s what I think works best for me and for my brain.”
Davidson started getting his tattoos removed in 2020.
On “Late Night with Seth Meyers” in 2021, he said he was inspired to do so in part because “it takes like three hours” to cover them up for his acting roles. “So now I’m burning them off, but burning them off is worse than getting them,” he said.
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In January, the “King of Staten Island” star shared he has continuing getting his tattoos removed and that it’s been “horrible,” noting he at one point had around 200 of them.
“They’ve got to burn off a layer of your skin, and then it has to heal for, like, six to eight weeks,” he said. “And you can’t get in the sunlight, and then you’ve got to do it, like, 12 more times. So really think about that ‘Game of Thrones’ tattoo you’re thinking of getting.”
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Davidson added that he might keep “two or three” tattoos but is “trying to clean slate it” and “trying to be an adult.”
“It deserves a team with the scale, experience and infrastructure to realize its potential,” founder Billy McFarland said about Fyre Festival in a statement.
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unbranded – Entertainment
Fyre Festival − the brand behind the 2017 scandal-ridden music festival and the so-far failed second attempt − is for sale.
Fyre Festival founder Billy McFarland announced on Wednesday, April 23 that he is selling the festival’s brand, including intellectual property, trademarks, social media accounts, email, text lists and documentary coverage, according to information on the festival’s website.
The Fyre site formerly promoted a music, arts and culture festival, Fyre Festival 2, to occur May 30 through June 2 in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. As of Wednesday, the website boasted the festival’s for-sale brand asset package and a digital auction form for those interested in putting in an offer.
“This brand is bigger than any one person and bigger than what I’m able to lead on my own. It’s a movement. And it deserves a team with the scale, experience and infrastructure to realize its potential,” McFarland wrote in a statement on the site and also shared on social media.
The Fyre Festival team did not immediately respond when contacted by USA TODAY for comment on Thursday. It is unclear if the festival is still on track to begin May 30.
Organizers most recently announced they were looking for a new location for the festival, just weeks before it’s schedule start time, leading many to assume it was canceled or postponed.
What is Fyre Festival 2?
Previously described as an “electrifying celebration of music, arts, cuisine, comedy, fashion, gaming, sports and treasure hunting,” Fyre Festival 2 boasted tickets that ranged between $1,400 for one person to $1.1 million for a group of eight.
In 2018, McFarland was sentenced to six years in prison for engaging in several fraudulent schemes related to the first Fyre Festival. After his arrest, the festival’s organizer acknowledged that he had defrauded investors out of $26 million and more than $100,000 in fraudulent ticket-selling schemes.
As part of his sentencing, McFarland agreed to pay $26 million in restitution to victims of the first Fyre Festival. Fyre Festival 2 co-founder Mike Falb previously told USA TODAY that $500,000 of the proceeds from the festival and an additional 10% of all profits would be put toward the restitution.
As part of a potential sale of the brand, McFarland said in his statement that he would continue to pay restitution.
What’s for sale?
The Fyre Festival website lists the following as part of the brand asset package:
Brand name
Intellectual property
Trademarks
Content, including photos, videos and graphics
Domains
Email and text lists
Marketing materials
Social media accounts
Caribbean festival location
Media and documentary coverage
Artist support
Team
“Documentary coverage” appears to be in reference to two documentaries that were released after the first Fyre Festival − Netflix’s “Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never Happened” and Hulu’s “Fyre Fraud.”
The revamped website also boasts online impressions and traffic, claiming that over the past 60 days, more than 422,000 unique visitors from 190 countries had visited the Fyre Festival website.
The website suggests that interested parties fill out an online form to make an offer and share their plans for the brand.
What’s happening with Fyre Festival 2?
Not unlike the inaugural Fyre Festival in 2017, this year’s event has faced several roadblocks.
In mid-April, just weeks before the festival’s kickoff, event organizers announced they were seeking a new location for the festival, as the two previous ones hadn’t worked in their favor.
Initially, the festival was promoted to be held on Isla Mujeres, Mexico, a small island right off the coast of Cancún. But Isla Mujeres officials and a hotel that the festival claimed to work with said they were unaware of the event.
After the festival announced it would be held in Playa del Carmen, again, government officials there said they weren’t familiar with it.
In response, Fyre Festival took to social media to share screenshots of emails and permits, but details were askew from what had been promoted. McFarland claimed 2,000 tickets were available for the festival, but shared permits indicated that only space for 250 people had been obtained.
“When a government takes your money, issues permits, promotes the event and then pretends it’s never heard of you, that’s not just dishonest − it’s theft. Due to this, we have decided to move Fyre Festival 2 elsewhere,” a note sent to ticketholders in mid-April claimed.
What happened during the first Fyre Festival?
Intended to be held over two weeks in April and May 2017, the first Fyre Festival was promoted by social media influencers like Kendall Jenner, Bella Hadid and Hailey Bieber, and ticketholders were promised acts like Blink-182 and Migos.
However, upon arrival, festival-goers learned that the artists had canceled. Due to poor Caribbean weather, the festival was essentially washed out, with the promised luxury accommodations and gourmet food nowhere to be found. In the end, attendees only stayed one night before they were evacuated.
Greta Cross is a national trending reporter at USA TODAY. Story idea? Email her at [email protected].
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Linda Evangelista says she doesn’t care about aging.
The ’90s supermodel, 59, opened up to Harper’s Bazaar for the magazine’s May cover story about aging and beauty in an interview published Aug. 24.
“I don’t care how I age. I just want to age. It doesn’t have to be gracefully,” Evangelista told the outlet, adding, “I really, really, really don’t want to die.”
The comments come four years after she revealed in a vulnerable Instagram post in September 2021 that she was left “brutally disfigured” after CoolSculpting, a non-invasive body contouring procedure, and found herself in a “cycle of deep depression.”
That same month, she filed a lawsuit against Zeltiq Aesthetics seeking $50 million in damages over the CoolSculpting procedure she says led her body to become disfigured. The once reclusive fashion icon has reentered the public eye within the last few years with a series of magazine features and buzzy appearances.
Linda Evangelista settles CoolSculpting lawsuit, models for Fendi in ‘the next chapter’
Linda Evangelista dissolved filler, still receives Botox injections
In the Harper’s interview, Evangelista addressed her experiences with beauty procedures, admitting she dissolved her filler because “I wasn’t looking like me” but still receives Botox injections.
In the wake of the CoolSculping controversy, Evangelista is still finding herself.
“I’m doing the work, and I’m trying to get to the place where I like myself, flaws and all, and trying to love myself,” she said. “I have still so much to do. I’m finally getting comfortable with myself and with everything, and now I want to enjoy it.”
“I want to be a grandmother, but not in the immediate future,” Evangelista continued. “I’m alive. I’m alive, and I’m going to do what I have to do.” Her only son Augustin heads off to college in the fall, making the modeling legend an empty nester, telling the outlet that “I’m going to fight because I don’t want it any other way. I’m not done.”
In July 2022, Evangelista settled her lawsuit with Zeltiq Aesthetics. In the Harper’s Bazaar piece, Evangelista lifts up her shirt to show her body scars, described as “violent” in the story, as the two-time breast cancer survivor told the writer, “I lived through that.”
Linda Evangelista says she was ‘brutally disfigured’ after CoolSculpting. What is it?
“My double mastectomy, I’m fine with it,” Evangelista said. “I did put in very small implants. What they took out, I put in, cc-wise. I’ve had all those lung surgeries, oh my God, and my keloids and all the chest-tube scars and my C-section scar. There were a lot of surgeries. I’m cool. I’m fine with those. I won. I’m here.”
