Slate wears a sweater by COS and a coat and trousers by Aje.

Jenny Slate

  • Words Robert Ito
  • Photography Emman Montalvan
  • Styling Jesse Arifien

What do you get when you cross a free spirit with a stand-up comedian? At home in Los Angeles, Jenny Slate delivers the punch line.

  • Words Robert Ito
  • Photography Emman Montalvan
  • Styling Jesse Arifien
  • Makeup Kirin Bhatty
  • Hair Nikki Providence
  • Set Design Kelly Fondry
  • Photo Assistants Patrick Molina & Angel Castro

Jenny Slate is on stage at the Largo at the Coronet nightclub in Los Angeles, doing a very funny set. I’m furiously trying to scribble down bits of what she’s saying, but the place is so dark, her set so fast and manic, that the notes come out like this: Hippo covered with lichen. Has anyone seen my (indecipherable)? My mouth was stuffed with noodles. Slate talks about her fiancé’s beautifully crafted dreams (he’s a writer) versus her own weird, intricately disturbing ones, and about how, no, you shouldn’t try to “sleep it off” if you discover you’ve ingested poison. Dressed in a black T-shirt and black jeans, Slate is in her element, eliciting a nearly nonstop roar from fans who know her from her comedic turns on Parks and Recreation and Saturday Night Live, and likely...

ISSUE 52

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