Cecile Richards strides into the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, student union in a hot-pink dress and a black cardigan. As she walks past me I notice that her toenails are also pink—a color that precisely matches the “I stand with Planned Parenthood” pins and signs and T-shirts that are all around the room. She is uncharacteristically late this morning, and before she arrived I was a little worried: There was only a smattering of local media, and the energy was muted. But as soon as she walked in, the air crackled—as if, in her presence, every atom gained an electron. There is just something about Richards—her height and carriage, her husky voice, that startlingly blonde boy-cut—that makes you sit up and pay attention.