This morning I got an email from a woman named Cate. She was slighty panicked—though in the good, excited, happy kind of way—because four days ago, she and her boyfriend had decided to get married. But why would she panic?, you ask. Is she secretly afraid that her soon-to-be-husband is suddenly going to start recieving Allure magazine every month in the mail for no discernible reason?
(NOT THAT THIS HAPPENED TO ANYONE YOU KNOW, COUGH SEAN SLINSKY COUGH.)