One of the best parts about dating a New York Times reporter is getting to meet other New York Times reporters.
When I stopped by Alex’s office a few weeks ago, I rode the elevator down with one of my fashion-writing heros, when I suddenly turned into a bumbling eight-year-old. He was like, “How are you?” And I said, “Nice. Uh, Good. What? Thanks.” Luckily, I pulled myself together enough to talk about our weekends. He said that he had made his boyfriend a baked potato stuffed with caviar. Sigh. How. Incredibly. Fabulous.