Girl-crushes are a thing. You know, when a heterosexual female has special, maybe or maybe not sexual, feelings for another woman. I don’t really have a lot of girl crushes, so when I do find myself in the midst of one, it’s pretty special. That being said, I have monster girl-crushes on both Jennifer and Ashley. (Don’t we all, fellow readers of The Gloss?)
However, I’m choosing to write about Ashley, because as the adorably awkward editor-in-chief, Jennifer seems like the more obvious choice. And god forbid I do anything obvious.
You see, many years ago back when I was in college, a professor sent me a link to an article by a former student of his that he thought I’d find “amusing.” I read the article he’d sent, and was instantly smitten. I had never before heard of this site, “The Gloss,” but I quickly became a regular reader.
A year later, I was quickly approaching graduation, with a cliché European-adventure-followed-by-unemployment on the horizon. So I sent an email to Ashley, explaining that the following autumn, I was moving to New York and asking may I please please please be your intern. With a deep camaraderie that can only be felt by alumni from the same 400-student college, she kindly acquiesced to my request. (Sorry, I watched Pirates of the Caribbean last week.)
A few months later I was there. My first day at The Gloss was terrifying. I’d just moved to New York City after three months abroad, and I hadn’t spoken to Americans in a while. The city, the expensive groceries, the mere act of riding the subway were all still anxiety-inducing at this point, and I hadn’t even found a long-term apartment. I was a mess.
When I arrived at The Gloss’ office, I was led to some desks in a bay of cubicles, where I was introduced to both Jennifer and Ashley. I vaguely recognized Jennifer from various crowdsourcing posts, but Ashley had done an excellent job of keeping her appearance a mystery (this was before the days of Wed Bed Dead). Upon seeing her, I was delighted to find she was as cool as I’d imagined. She was wearing some unobtrusive outfit that she’d casually thrown on that morning, and she didn’t give two fucks that I was there.
Her nonchalance wooed me.
The longer I was an intern, and the more I got to know her, the more awesome she proved to be. She called me “buddy.” She taught me how to use WordPress. She made me laugh with witticisms about 90’s pop culture and red carpet fashion. She gave me free lipstick and advice for improving my writing. She was unphased by my awkwardness. She seemed to have her life together so much more than me.
My internship only lasted a few short months, but it was amazing. I learned so much about life, love, and blogs. But I’ll always regret that I never got the chance to tell Ashley how I felt. That I never asked her out for a drink. That I never managed to figure out how to make my her hair look like hers.
Damn. So many regrets.