Chelsea have announced Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang has left the club and signed for Marseille on a free transfer.

A’ja Wilson had 13 points and 13 rebounds, and the defending WNBA champion Las Vegas Aces advanced to the finals for the third time in four years, beating the Dallas Wings 64-61 for a three-game sweep

Going on a spacewalk might sound like a lot of fun – but in reality it’s no walk in the park. From their muscles getting less dense all the way to erectile dysfunction, astronauts have to put up with all sorts of things going wrong with their body. And none more gross than what happens to their fingernails. Turns out they just fall right off. The technical term for this is onycholysis, and it has to do with how much – or how little – atmospheric pressure there is in space. Because there is so little ambient pressure in space, astronaut’s space suits need to be pressurised to keep the human body intact. But that’s not good for the hands, it turns out. “Injuries to the hands are common among astronauts who train for extravehicular activity (EVA),” says a 2015 conference paper by space specialists Wyle Laboratories. “When the gloves are pressurized, they restrict movement and create pressure points during tasks, sometimes resulting in pain, muscle fatigue, abrasions, and occasionally more severe injuries such as onycholysis. “Glove injuries, both anecdotal and recorded, have been reported during EVA training and flight persistently through NASA's history regardless of mission or glove model." A 2010 study looked at 232 hand injuries sustained by astronauts, and found that the wider your knuckle joints, the more likely you are to suffer in a space suit. The study suggested that because space suit gloves limit the mobility of these knuckles, the fingers then get put under more pressure. This, in turn, means less blood gets to the fingers, and risks onycholysis. Ouch. Work has been done to try to improve the design of space suit gloves, of course. One team found that the more tailored they were to each astronaut’s finger length the less likely they were to lose their fingernails. That’s no mean feat, however. These gloves are made of at least four layers: one which touches the skin, one which helps create the pressurised environment, another one which makes the pressure layer less stiff, and an outer layer which protects the astronaut from everything on the outside. Mercifully for NASA astronauts at least, they usually have their gloves fitted to each wearer, and with new space suit design moving forward each day, the number of injuries is decreasing. Nonetheless, it sounds like a trip to space is no time for a manicure. How to join the indy100's free WhatsApp channel 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.

For Native American students, tribal regalia is often passed down through generations and worn at graduations to signify connection with the community

It’s just after 9pm and lilac hues have spread across Dorset skies, shadows extending over a panorama of marquee tops. Perfect conditions for the first night of End of the Road, whose Friday headliners – Black Midi, Battles and Fleet Foxes among them – are minutes away from stepping on stage. Yet, rather than slipping through the masses to grab a good spot, I’ve been back at my tent for an hour already. Having unfolded a stool in the last of the sun, simmering lentils and a mug full of boxed cab-sav for company, my one-year-old daughter, Nancy, has finally nodded off in the tent, unaware of earlier negotiations between her parents. After an afternoon watching bands from a lower-decibel distance as a family, it’s my wife who’s out tonight, enjoying her child-free break for freedom. Although, with the Pixies – a band beloved since teen years but never seen live – top billing on Saturday night, I felt confident in my call as “White Winter Hymnal” carried on the breeze. We’re a day into our first festival as a family of three, an experience already proving quite a journey. As a sometimes music journalist, I’d covered events across Europe over the past decade, adept at negotiating stage splits, balancing reporting duties and life-affirming experiences with willing accomplices. Of these, End of the Road has remained a regular fixture, an informal end-of-summer meet-up with industry colleagues and friends – as well as my chosen stag-do destination. With a one-year-old in tow, this year would mark a stark contrast. From the freshly purchased family-sized tent – the subject of substantial research and investment, and an attempt to win over a camping-averse wife – to the travel cot, buggy, strings of fairy lighting, endless layers, toys and first-aid trappings for every eventuality, the baggage was endless. Shoulders ablaze, I’d carried it all in as my wife kept our daughter entertained. Stepping into my role as responsible dad, I’d practised the tent’s set-up at home prior to arrival and, with a tangible sense of optimism about the weekend ahead, started separating pegs from poles. Yet, with the tent almost up, something unsettled me. What was that smell? Unzipping the bedroom it hit me. My earlier garden practice run had provided the perfect sheltered toilet for a visiting fox –  evidence of which no amount of wet-wipe scrubbing could remove, resulting in a showdown with the reluctant camper and a smell that would accent a weekend in which expectations were continuously lowered. After my wife crashed back in on Friday night, earlier than anticipated and hamstrung by a fast-developing cold, we wondered if we were up to the challenge. Nancy was having a nice time, happy tracking insects in the long grass or studiously inspecting the contents of her snack bag. But could this equally have been any other field? Had we been too exhausted and distracted to embrace the experience? By contrast, our camping companions had brought their five-year-old, who enthusiastically shared stories about favourite bands and the wicker dragonfly he’d crafted, as his dad talked about the surprise sets he’d happened upon the previous night. Perhaps we’d just taken all of this on too soon. The next morning, I nudged Nancy’s buggy around the site, stopping at the kids’ area, where a neckerchiefed uke player offered up nursery rhymes with instruments for children, which were seized upon with pleasure. Various childless friends were never far away, entertaining our daughter in bursts. Later, after reuniting with my wife, a highlight was bobbing to Los Bitchos’ buoyant afternoon performance with Nancy held aloft, as was a brief glimpse of Jockstrap packing out a small stage in the woods. Yet other moments – flailing nappy changes amid aghast onlookers, straying too close to the stage with a buggy as the light faded and the crowd surged – presented a sharp learning curve. Still feeling under the weather, my wife headed back to the tent with Nancy as the Pixies arrived, Frank Black’s substantial presence now underscored by a pang of guilt. After checking in and being signed off to stay out, I’d joined an excitable crowd for an unannounced late-night set at the Tipi stage, which, after turning out to be one of the tiny handful of bands I’d already seen that day – again sounded another minor chord on my tiny violin. As the skies cleared, we’d discovered corners along the way we’d otherwise never have seen and met a similarly dazed yet determined community of parents With my wife’s health deteriorating further overnight – diminishing her perception of fox piss, at least – we made the call to leave on Sunday morning and I hauled everything back to the car. On the long drive home, and hours before Covid would be confirmed, it had to be asked: had this been fun for anyone concerned? Was this festival too aptly named for a new dad trying to reconcile past and present lives? This all happened in the summer of 2022 and, unfazed, we tried again this year – albeit at the even smaller scale and decidedly family-friendly Kite Festival in Oxfordshire. While Nancy’s advanced age presented new challenges – tentative first steps now a confident swagger – her inquisitiveness also marked her out as the perfect festival companion. Expectations now firmly in check, we let ourselves be led by circumstance and proximity, stopping for whatever drew the eye rather than dashing from act to act, allowing us to slow down and see the world through her eyes. Occasionally we tag-teamed the lineup, each picking a couple of acts to witness unhindered by short attention spans (my wife took former PM John Major’s packed-out talk in the big top, I took Suede). Under the hot sun, our meeting point at the shaded children’s area also helped keep Nancy from turning pink in the sun. Clapping furiously at the end of shadow chancellor Rachel Reeves’s morning debate, her grasp on Labour’s manifesto pledges seems better than most – although this mimicry of crowd behaviour proves an endearing feature at later events, too. An uncontrollable tantrum during Michael Gove’s appearance at a panel discussion saw us quickly extract ourselves from the tent, drawing smiles from an audience impressed by the effectiveness of her heckle. Further priceless memories included dancing together at Candi Staton’s sundown set, Nancy with a brioche in each hand – ear defenders askew – visibly finding her feet. The following day the skies suddenly broke, with an electrical storm closing all stages, sending Birkenstock-clad families sprinting for cover. The one attendee thrilled by it all was Nancy, who careered around cackling as security attempted to keep punters from the marquee’s lightning-conducting metal poles. As the skies cleared, we’d discovered corners along the way we’d otherwise never have seen and met a similarly dazed yet determined community of parents. We still hadn’t nailed the performative kids-at-festivals thing – there was no trolley adorned with decoration or whimsical outfits – but felt comfortable that we’d struck the right balance, fulfilled by a shared experience led by the spontaneity of a child’s impulses. It marked a shift from any naive attempt to carry on with our lives as normal. An alternative, of course, is to leave your family at home. A couple of weeks ago I joined 250,000 others at Glastonbury, my own spontaneity given breathing space once more. Thrilling, yes, but also a weekend that at times left me seeking my small festival companion among the other attendees. I was temporarily overcome watching a daughter on the shoulders of her father as he introduced her to a favourite band, excitedly explaining each musician’s role. “How old? I’ve got one a similar age,” was shared with various others. Yet it was also at Glastonbury, as the temperature nudged into the thirties, that I spotted another dad – fixed grin but dead behind the eyes – pushing three irritable kids in a trolley up a shadeless slope. I nod my solidarity, before skipping off to the bar – relieved, this time, that’s not me. Bumping into Joe Goddard from Hot Chip, whose bandmates collectively call their kids the Micro Chips, he says that of all the children he knows, it’s those who have always been dragged to festivals who have proved the most rounded. Something that resonates with me as the Glastonbury hangover subsides and – reunited with my family – I start looking forward to carving out new shared experiences in crowded fields once more. 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Charlottesville City Council decided to have Robert Lee's statue removed in 2021 after calling an emergency meeting within 20 minutes' notice

One year after the killings of British journalist Dom Phillips and Indigenous expert Bruno Pereira, some people in the remote Javari Valley region of the Brazilian Amazon have seen their lives change, but not for the better

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Sarah Burton is set to leave Alexander McQueen after serving as creative director for 13 years, the brand has announced. Burton, 49, was appointed to the role in 2010 following the death of Lee Alexander McQueen, having worked alongside the designer for 14 years. She was responsible for the creation of the wedding dress worn by the Princess of Wales, when she married Prince William in 2011. “I am so proud of everything I’ve done and of my incredible team at Alexander McQueen,” Burton said in a statement. “They are my family, and this has been my home for the past 26 years. I want to thank Francois-Henri Pinault for believing in me and offering me this amazing opportunity.” The label’s spring/summer 2024 collection, due to be unveiled at Paris Fashion Week later this month, will be her last. “Above all, I want to thank Lee Alexander McQueen,” Burton continued. “He taught me so much and I am eternally grateful to him. “I am looking forward to the future and my next chapter, and will always carry this treasured time with me.” François-Henri Pinault, chairman and CEO of parent company Kering, said: “I am immensely grateful to Sarah, and I want to personally thank her for her work over the past two decades, first alongside Lee Alexander McQueen, where her role was instrumental to his success, and then as the Creative Director since 2010. “Through her own experience, sensitivity and talent, Sarah continued to evolve the artistic expression of this iconic house. She kept and continued Lee’s heritage, attention to detail and unique vision, while adding her own personal, highly creative touch.” Gianfilippo Testa, CEO of Alexander McQueen, added: “We would like to express our immense gratitude to Sarah for writing such an important chapter in the history of the Alexander McQueen House. “Sarah’s contribution over the past 26 years will leave an indelible mark.” A new creative organisation will be announced in due course, the brand have said. Read More Charity boss speaks out over ‘traumatic’ encounter with royal aide Ukraine war’s heaviest fight rages in east - follow live Sarah Burton to leave Alexander McQueen after 13 years as creative director What happens at a sexual health check-up? 9 arthritis myths we all need to stop believing

By David Shepardson WASHINGTON Two U.S. senators said they were investigating short video sharing app TikTok's reported decision

By Joe Cash BEIJING China's factory activity likely contracted for a fourth straight month in July, a Reuters

The United Auto Workers (UAW) union expects to go on strike against the Detroit Three automakers on Thursday