Kate Bolick stares out at the world from the cover of The Atlantic magazine. She’s wearing a black lace evening dress. “What, Me Marry?” asks the headline. She isn’t smiling.
In fact, she isn’t smiling in any of the photos that accompany her several-thousand-word essay on singleness, marriage, and the changing nature of dating and mating in America today. Bolick, 38, is groping toward accepting the idea that she may never marry. She badly wants to convince herself — and us — that older ideas about “unhappy” spinsters are silly cultural baggage best dropped off at the curb. And yet, there are those glamour shots — Bolick behind the wheel wearing a fetching red dress; Bolick in a gold evening gown holding a glass of champagne; Bolick in a black cocktail dress — but her expressions range from pensive to sad — never happy.
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