Lena Dunham is sitting in bed, draped in a pink tulle gown fit for a princess, reading a book about torture.
It’s a prop for our photo shoot, which is taking place in an eccentrically decorated hotel suite in Tribeca, but she’s too curious not to flip through the pages. Intrigued, Dunham’s brown eyes widen: “Oh my God, it’s literally a collection of drawings of torture,” she says as the photo and glam crew explode in laughter. “I thought it was going to be like, ‘I’m tortured by this love affair.’” She puts down the book and, in need of a vibe switch, requests that Rihanna’s “Anti” be played straight through.
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