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Elizabeth Banks has decided to endorse a new skincare product for the holiday period, portraying it as a gift that needs no effort yet gives the excellent outcome. The actress has teamed up with No7, and the video she has made with the Future Renew Night Serum showcases it as the best possible solution for skin damage by morning. Although it happens to be a seasonal gifting campaign, her ongoing relationship with the brand is very much linked with this move.

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In the video, the actress speaks directly to the viewers who are busy doing their Christmas shopping. She mentions the serum as her ‘go to gift’ for everyone she is acquainted with. Working against fine lines, wrinkles, dryness, and skin tone unevenness during sleep, the serum is described as ‘affordable luxury’ that competes with the expensive brands not only by its clinical efficacy but also by its price point. ‘Making the impossible, possible’ is the campaign’s slogan, and it is the soft tone of Michelle that conveys the same thing: the skincare routine is not a burden but an achievable goal.

Even though most comments on her post were concerning the product, there were still a few admirers who completely concentrated on the star. One person labelled her the ‘most sensual woman in the world’, while another gave her an elaborate, almost poetic, compliment saying ‘little blonde with sweet and beautiful eyes’. The actress, who is adored by many, is usually the one who, with her charisma, attracts the audience, and this is a common reaction.

A down-to-earth question mixed with the praise when one person commented, ‘Where did u get that sweater.’ It is a sign that at times a famous person’s wardrobe can burgle the product they are supposed to advertise. The question about her cozy clothing was not answered by the actress, thus leaving the ever-curious fans about the fashionable knitwear patiently waiting.

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Elizabeth Banks is brand ambassador to No7 for a long time; she has always been demanding though at the same time very vocal in their approach to skincare being less luxurious and more accessible. However, she this time endorsement is right in the middle of a holiday disaster, giving a simple answer where one cannot think of the ideal gift. The actress is actually making the followers very clear and easy option to follow by calling the serum ‘the ultimate present’ thus giving them the very clear and easy option to follow. The message could not be more clear: make your skin look young again as a present this holiday season. Elizabeth Banks appears to be both nice and doing the endorsement at the same time, thus making skincare a wave of a wish and at the same time a reality for her audience. The No7 and her collaboration also constitute the backbone of her product collaborations, which she is now the one that focuses on those that come with real results at no extra cost of luxury. Her recent partnership with JetBlue is another example of her diverse brand work.

Ina, Manhattan (Chelsea) A plethora of secondhand designer merchandise to choose from. All the items — dresses, suits, blouses, shirts, ties, clutches, shoes — are in top-notch condition. Plenty are unique or hard to find. Whether you are buying or simply browsing, the staff are most civilized. They keep their distance and remain friendly. An airy shop (and one of three in Manhattan), it is well lit — not too bright, not too dim, just smooth and easy on the eye.

Natty Adams, New Orleans Natty Adams’s custom and ready-to-wear clothes are as natty as his first name (no pun intended). A New Yorker, he has set up shop in the heart of New Orleans’s French Quarter, a stone’s throw from the former residence of the playwright Tennessee Williams. Graced with a courtyard and a flowering garden, his shop has the best qualities of Paul Smith, Paul Stuart and Ralph Lauren with a youthful vigor all his own.

Crowley Vintage, Brooklyn (Dumbo) Sean Crowley, who formerly designed for Ralph Lauren, caters to gentlemen invested in unimpeachable elegance — those who are always in search of the perfect fit, the perfect fabric, the perfect shirts, trousers, shoes, scarves, ties and Mackintosh coats. All items are vintage, with innumerable more decades of wear left in them.

Dover Street Market, Los Angeles Everybody in the store, the clientele and the sales people, are all hipper than you. Mostly dressed in black, they look like glamorous characters in an Italian movie. It’s very aspirational: If you just spent enough money, you too could be an artistic interesting person with a bohemian life.

The Los Angeles store (one of a few worldwide) is huge! You could get lost in it for days. Fortunately, I have a capable salesperson, Nathaniel, who looks like a stylish vampire and glides elegantly through the maze of fashion, always emerging with something surprising and unexpected for me to try on.

Buoyed by the seductive promise of Dover Street, I have purchased the most unlikely items. A Balenciaga coat that drags on the ground, a tiny Stephen Jones hat with a bright daisy blooming behind black voile and a furry Simone Rocha purse the size of a large dog.

I have not worn any of these items. I hoard them greedily in my closet waiting for the day when my fantasy life begins and I emerge grandly, my tiny daisy hat balanced precariously on my head, clutching my giant dog purse and Balenciaga trailing behind me.

James Veloria, Manhattan (Chinatown) Some of the most insane vintage — think archive Jean Paul Gaultier and Tom-Ford-era Gucci. A place to go to for something one of a kind. The New York store (there’s another in Los Angeles) is on the second floor of a very unassuming shopping mall under the Manhattan Bridge. People are sometimes confused by the location at first, but once you arrive, you understand why you made the journey.

ESSX NYC, Manhattan (Lower East Side) The curation of designers and selection is so sharp. It’s catered toward downtown types who love fashion and aren’t afraid to stand out. I don’t shop in person very often. This is one of the few stores that I genuinely enjoy.

Just One Eye, Los Angeles Worth a visit even if you don’t buy anything. Fashion from brands like The Row and Prada sits alongside Damien Hirst artworks and Franco Albini furniture. When I was growing up in Los Angeles, I couldn’t dream of affording anything, but I would still stop by and leave inspired.

Desert Vintage, Manhattan (Lower East Side) One of the most tastefully curated vintage stores. You can find special pieces that no one else will be wearing. Upon walking in, you will want to become a person who can effortlessly throw on a caftan to run to the bodega for a bacon egg and cheese.

Ted Muehling, Manhattan (TriBeCA) Mesmerizing jewelry and objects. You can’t stop yourself from wanting to touch and hold everything. The “rice” and “berries” earrings are the perfect gift — for yourself or for anyone.

Staklena Kuća, Los Angeles Shopping here is like looking through a well-assorted closet: You might like half of everything in it, and half of it might not be for you (this time). The store strikes the hard balance between over-curated and overwhelming. Vintage tees, embroidered satin slippers — this place has those and more.

Drop Your Jeans, Covina, Calif. An excellent selection of vintage work wear, from Levi’s cutoffs to dead-stock Dickies to worn-in Carhartt jackets. A large poster selection is another reason to go.

Bliss’ Department Store, Shelter Island Heights, N.Y. A seriously vintage jolt of Americana. The store is aptly named. Its third-generation family owner purveys the blissful necessities of life. Recently bought there by me: water bootees, a hoodie, sewing supplies, a jaunty hat and super glue.

Modern Appealing Clothing, San Francisco The merch edit is primo and eccentric, but also wearable. We’re talking Comme des Garçons, Sacai, Walter Van Beirendonck and many other avant-gardists, plus a plethora of strange footwear. The brother-and-sister owners have built a loyal following by treating every customer like an old pal. Clothes sold here will make you appear more interesting than you are, which should always be the primary goal of fashion.

J.C. Western Wear, West Palm Beach, Fla. A family-owned vestige of “Old Florida” with a staggering selection of nonchalant head-to-toe cowboy duds: jeans, boots, cowboy hats and belts and buckles for men, women and children. Another (larger) location in Jupiter is across the street from Dune Dog Café, an old-school alfresco Florida eatery.

Maxfield, Los Angeles A store that all others watch, it specializes in audacious new ideas and strange vintage artifacts. It has maintained its mystique for half a century, a gob-smacking accomplishment for any store, with an exquisite edit of every headline making designer — from Rick Owens to The Elder Statesman to Willy Chavarria — and exclusive sneaker and jewelry collaborations.

Stand Up Comedy, Portland, Ore. An under-the-radar women’s wear institution with a chic but unwaveringly funky vision. It’s stocked with independent designers whose work verges on art practice: Bless, Julia Heuer and Martine Rose, to name a few. Walking into the space — a former jewelry store that was barely altered, with plush blue carpeting and glowing vitrines — feels a little like being on the set of a David Lynch movie.

Rennes, Philadelphia Rennes often gets rare artisan lines from Europe and Japan before any other shop in North America. Spindly-legged tables inside the light filled space in Philadelphia’s Old City neighborhood hold stacks of Japan-made socks, and exquisite linen dresses hang from Shaker-style pegboards lining the walls. It could feel precious, but it’s not.

Slash Denim, Berkeley, Calif. The most magical pant-buying experience. Go around the main storefront into the basement entrance in the back. There, among the musky piles of vintage Levi’s, you will be confronted by three denim witches — or veteran saleswomen — not unlike the witches in “Macbeth.” They will look you up and down, converse with each other in Levi’s-ese (514 or a 551?) and conjure a perfect pair of jeans for you.

Bungee Space, Manhattan (Lower East Side) The shop feels funky and haphazard, like rifling through your cool cousin’s dorm room. It’s a bookstore, a zine distributor, an events center and one of my favorite places to discover new and emerging designers. You’re just as likely to pick up an SC103 handbag or a Comme des Garçons shirt as you are to learn about a couturier who makes dresses from T-shirts or an artisanal women’s wear collective from Guatemala. You feel absolutely welcome to try on clothes, leaf through books, buy a cup of tea or maybe have a conversation.

Front General Store, Brooklyn (Dumbo) The curation is irresistible: vitrines of sterling silver jewelry, racks of vintage French chore coats and Issey Miyake Pleats Please, rows of colorful pens and milk glass mugs. A very very back room is where they keep cowboy shirts from the 1920s, Aloha shirts from the 1940s, all kinds of rare military surplus and souvenir jackets. If a garment looks like it has a story behind it, just ask one of the very kind shopkeepers. They’ll tell you.

Ven. Space, Brooklyn (Carroll Gardens) It carries some of the best men’s designers from around the world, some established (Dries Van Noten), some emerging (Auralee), some medium-size (Lemaire), some tiny (Unkruid). The store has not merely managed without e-commerce, but thrived. Pop in on a Thursday at 3 p.m. and the place will be full. Small touches speak to a broader philosophy at work: For instance, custom hanger covers that hide clothes’ tags, so that you focus on the garment before you know who made it.

Evan Kinori, San Francisco As a designer, Evan Kinori works slowly and carefully, refining a small set of minimalist designs that tend not to change much from season to season. He uses very special fabrics, many of them developed custom with Japanese mills and dye-houses, and the result is clothes that look cool in photos but truly come alive in person. He sells them at an airy store on the southern edge of the Mission district, along with ceramics and hand-loomed textiles.

Funky Finds, Des Moines, Iowa It’s two floors. Browsing feels like stepping back in time: There’s an expansive collection of home goods and records, but the vintage clothes really stand out. Men’s, women’s, kids — everything on the racks is in exceptional condition and priced very affordably. I bought my senior prom dress here over a decade ago.

Old Gold, Burlington, V.T. Organized, affordable vintage denim. You won’t get the hands-on experience that some vintage retailers offer these days, but it’s not too overwhelming — light curation, approachable prices and a clean setting.

Westerlind, Millerton, N.Y. An insane curation of heritage brands, stunning design and, at this location (one of six), a darling pantry section in the back. Sales associates are kind and extremely knowledgeable about the area. I found a new real estate agent here while my husband was trying on pants.

Ontario Mall Antiques, Farmington, N.Y. A great antique mall with an excellent jewelry collection, ranging from costume to fine.

Departamento, Los Angeles Great for discovery, with brands I have often never heard of alongside established names like The Row and Wales Bonner. It might have the best men’s buy in America. What I am most interested in when I go into a shop is organization and presentation. Are the products laid out in a thoughtful way? Departamento takes the cake in terms of design.

Scully & Scully, Manhattan (Upper East Side) It’s like Disneyland for refinement. The Park Avenue shop, founded in 1934, sells everything from silver money clips to horse head cuff links to diamond necklaces. It has a doorman and the shopkeepers are as refined as the merchandise. I shop for canes here — the most ornate canes, made with silver duck, fox and owl handles. When I’m walking with one in New York, as tough a city as it is, people become tender to me.

JJ Hat Center, Manhattan (Midtown) One of the city’s oldest hat shops, it’s a narrow store with chandeliers and hats stacked atop each other everywhere you look — fedoras, homburgs, Stetsons, trilbies. There are always people in front of mirrors trying hats on, this way and that, like Humphrey Bogart. Even if you don’t wear hats, you can be initiated into the hat world here. I’ve been buying hats here for 30 years.

Fashion Full Circle, West Hollywood, Calif. A vintage and consignment shop with a large clothing section. But I go for the shoes. Hundreds of heels, bootees, sneakers — you can find fun and unique footwear here.

Aralda Vintage, Los Angeles A funky, tried-and-true vintage store started by a former model. A great selection, especially of dresses — some outfits from the TV show “Euphoria” were sourced here. The space’s bright orange walls and neon signs make shopping feel a bit like a game.

Allens Boots, Austin I never considered wearing cowboy boots until visiting this place (which has two locations). Thousands of styles line the walls and racks. I bought a black pair with white stars. They make me feel powerful.

Circa, New Bedford, Mass. Walking in for the first time felt like walking into a 1930s Coney Island fun house with mannequins in old costumes and the most beautiful old outfits everywhere. I wasn’t sure if you were supposed to buy the clothes or just admire them. The owner was incredibly friendly.

The Quality Mending Co., Manhattan (East Village) It’s what you’d imagine a New York City vintage store to look and smell like — the CBGB of vintage stores. Old Levi’s, worn-in tees, tinted sunglasses, lots of attractive people shopping. The best selection of vintage punk t- shirts. Most are out of my price range, but they’re such beautiful relics of the past.

Just One Eye, Los Angeles Stepping inside the bright airy space is exciting and inspiring. I’ve found some of my favorite pieces here. It’s like walking into an art gallery or museum, except you’re allowed to touch. The clothing, jewelry and housewares are beautifully curated — unique items from local artisans, along with clothing and shoes from big-name brands.

The Webster, Manhattan (SoHo) It’s big enough that you feel like you are shopping around, but still small enough that it feels quaint (there are 13 locations). Right when you walk in, you get hit with the store’s signature scent. It is the best smelling scent.

Heart and Lou’s, Manhattan (Lower East Side) A woman-owned vintage shop — I love the shoes.

Lucia Boutique, Saratoga Springs, N.Y. The cutest little women’s clothing store outside Albany, my hometown.

A’maree’s, Newport Beach, Calif. It’s in an impressive building on the water: You can pull up in a boat, dock and come inside for some shopping and a cocktail. The selection is upmarket — the Row, Alaïa, Gabriela Hearst — and is merchandised in a loose, fun way.

Through a veil of dark hair tendrils, Audrey Cymone stares intensely into the darkened room. The 16-year-old singer of the high school band Kim Theory croons the melancholy-tinged lyrics from “Growing Pains,” their song about adolescent angst.

Why can’t things just be the same?

The question hangs in the air as the sound thickens during soundcheck — guitars climbing, drums cracking. It carries double meaning here at Backyard Party, a new all-ages music venue in a nondescript business park on the border of Pasadena and Altadena.

The band, the venue’s team and the audience share an undesirable connective tissue. All have been affected in different ways by the Eaton and Palisades fires. Some watched their homes burn to the ground. Others live as expatriates from their own community because their houses in the burn zones are still uninhabitable. And some simply bear witness to the grief that, almost a year later, still bubbles up.

Before this rainy November night, the all-female band self-described as Riot Grrrl-adjacent mostly performed at house parties and small downtown L.A. venues. To celebrate the release of its EP, “Bitch Scene,” Kim Theory chose Backyard Party.

“This is a big deal,” says Lula Seifert, 16, the guitarist, watching the line of people snake through the door. “This is an awesome venue.”

When Cymone, wearing a dress fashioned out of a trash bag, and Seifert take the stage later with drummer Zoey Su, and bassist Lucy Fraser, the sold-out room crackles with energy. Teenagers crowd around the stage. A mosh pit breaks out. Bodies collide in a whirl of elbows and flying sneakers.

The back of the room — populated with parents, guardians and supervisors — is more sedate. Linda Wang, 45, the drummer’s mom, likes the all-ages venue because it provides a safe space for teens to experience live music. Nearby, a dad vigorously bobs his head. Hugs are exchanged between community members torn apart by January’s wildfires.

At Backyard Party, where live music happens every weekend, the vibes are good, the guest list is family friendly and the house rules are straight-edged. Between band sets, Brandon Jay, a Backyard Party partner, popped onstage to remind the crowd that the space is a drug-free zone. For those who don’t comply, “You gotta go,” he announced.

And on Kim Theory’s night, the heaviness left behind by the fires stays at the door.

“Music is a very powerful thing,” says Malena Vesbit, 14, who helped run ticket sales for the show. “It moves your emotions. I think it’s really a way to escape it all.”

The band Kim Theory preforms on stage during their EP Release Party at Backyard Party.

Music composes a second life

Backyard Party, run by Jay and partners Sandra Denver and Matt Chait, is inspired by Pasadena lore — the backyard shows that helped launch Van Halen. The next era of Pasadena parties starts in this 1,500-square-foot space.

But it’s become more than just an all-ages venue and event space since hosting its first show in September. If you lost your record collection in the fires, you can pick up free vinyls from their library. If you lost an instrument, free guitars, amps and a piano for the taking fill a room next to the stage.

Jay, and his wife, Gwendolyn Sanford, who work together as a composing team, lost their Altadena home, music studio and over 150 instruments and pieces of recording gear in the Eaton fire.

“Everyone lost special things like that,” says Jay, 53. “It’s so hard to cope”

Backyard Party founder Brandon Jay helps adjust a drum set during the band Kim Theory’s EP Release Party.

After the fire, friends started pressing their musical gear into his hands — small acts of generosity that helped stitch him back together. All over Los Angeles, musical instruments sit untouched in garages and closets. What if Jay could help match these lonely instruments with musicians in need?

Weeks after the fire, Jay founded Altadena Musicians, and the companion Instrumental Giving app followed in April to connect musicians in need with donors. Jay, with his bouffant curly hair and preternatural ability to remember the smallest details, became a de facto musical matchmaker.

The process often starts with a personal story of a loss and ends with an unexpected human connection made by the need for something small, like a harmonica. Altadena Musicians has helped roughly 1,200 people, says Jay. The circulation of treasured possessions and an extraordinary sense of kindness can change lives.

When the Pacific Palisades fire raged, Michelle Bellamy, 39, reached for her Martin acoustic guitar, affectionately named Gretchyn the Second, before evacuating, but then changed her mind. Something told her she would be back.

But the fire took her home — and the guitar she used to learn to write songs on. Regret replayed in her mind until Jay found a match: Abby Sherr, 80, whose Pacific Palisades home survived. Sherr had been given a Martin acoustic guitar at 16 by her brother. She was never quite able to part with it until she heard about Jay’s effort. Then she knew exactly where it needed to go.

In April, Sherr arrived at the Santa Monica real estate office where Bellamy works to give her the guitar, newly named Gretchyn the Third.

Attendees listen to the band Kim Theory during their EP Release Party.

“This guitar has given me a new lease on my musical life,” says Bellamy. She was inspired to write a song about the Palisades fire on Gretchyn the Third. Of course, she sent Sherr a video of her performance.

“It did bring tears to my eyes hearing her play and sing that song,” says Sherr. “I drive by what used to be her apartment, not infrequently, and I think of her every time.”

Just like normal. Just for one night.

No one at Kim Theory’s show really wanted to talk about fires. Especially the kids, says Jay. They just want to feel normal.

Some teenagers prefer action over words. Ticket sales go toward paying the bands and funding Backyard Party and Altadena Musicians’ venue upkeep and programs.

“Helping out can make everything just feel a little bit better about the state of our world,” says Fraser, 16, Kim Theory’s bassist.

Attendees wear various outfit accessories during the band Kim Theory’s EP Release Party.

Vesbit agrees. She helped establish the Alta Pasa Project, an organization to help teens who were impacted by the fires. She and her family are still displaced from their Altadena home.

During the party, Vesbit took breaks from working the door to watch the show. She danced and joined the mosh pit. She noticed that many teenagers hugged, even though they didn’t know each other, Vesbit says. That was her favorite part.

It was the Morrow Family’s first time attending a Backyard Party event. They came from their long-term temporary place in Highland Park to see Kim Theory perform. Their Altadena home stands, but because of the fire’s lingering smoke and ash they haven’t been able to return.

Max Morrow, 15, is tired of talking about the fire and the house they can’t go back to yet. His younger sister, Stella Morrow, 13, still feels awkward about grieving what is still tangible but out of reach.

“It’s a time capsule,” says their mom, Mel Morrow, 52, about their home.

Friends arrive, and she rushes over to greet them.

“I mean, we’ll show up no matter what,” she says. “Because we didn’t just lose our houses, we lost our community.”

Attendees play in the rain after the band Kim Theory’s EP Release Party.

“Growing Pains,” Kim Theory’s EP closer, is a song about the stage of life when you’re unsure the person you were would be proud of your present self, says Cymone.

“I feel like it’s something that a lot of teenagers can relate to,” she adds.

Tomorrow, there will be more uncertainty, but in the parking lot after the show, the teens start dancing in the rain.