Marked Down

As a tween, I’d often fantasized that I’d grow into The Devil Wears Prada’s Andy Sachs. I dreamed of working at a glossy fashion magazine, surrounded by glamorous well-dressed colleagues and a friend group of equally glamorous creative types. If I worked hard enough and got good enough grades—just like Andy!—it felt reasonable—no, inevitable—that I’d spend my twenties like her: an ambitious go-getter in media, ready to take on the world. Adrian Grenier would be my boyfriend, and a sexy, famous essayist would pursue me because I wrote really good stories for my college newspaper.