When retired US scribe Alyssa Shelasky took a gig blogging about dating for the Glamour website last summer, we sort of thought we understood what everyone was getting at: Conde Nast needed to beef up the "content" on its magazines' websites so as to continue deluding themselves that women's magazines remain relevant in the 21st century, and Alyssa, a tiny, self-centered, nomadic er, princess type with a few dozen publicist friends to keep her prose laden with product placements, had a relatively eventful — which is to say, pretty meaningless! — love life she was all too happy to share with readers.
And that's the thing about those self-obsessed, bad-at-listening serial-dater types: if there is one thing you can count on them giving, it is too much information. We have friends like that. (Well, friends like that with better taste in music.)
But around Valentine's Day, Alyssa stopped sharing her trysts with us. Because, she later revealed, she was in a relationship with someone who didn't want to be written about. At first, we thought, those Conde Nast lawyers are pretty silly if they gave Alyssa a contract allowing her to write about, well, her inner life! (Which is to say, her lack thereof!) But today, she reveals something troubling. Starting "Alyssacentric" was part of a larger life mission.
The decision to do the blog was connected to a bigger career goal. I needed to evolve as a lifestyle writer, and expand my portfolio.
So Alyssa has her own lawyers? And her blog is part of some career ladder she's climbing? Does one really ascend the professional ranks by flitting around the Western continents in designer dresses giving coy nicknames like "Sexy Euro" to the dudes she fucks? Don't answer that!