Camille’s Cupid Spills Everything

Intern intermediary Jason Rider takes us back to the beginning.

A few words from our resident matchmaker, Jason Rider, left.

"On Tuesday, in between performing my glamorous daily tasks as a New York fashion intern (you know, sorting mail, retrieving grande super mocha soy double-shot lattes, and de-linting cashmere sweaters), I took a break to refresh Gawker's homepage for the 5th time in the last five minutes. [Ed. note: He's fired.] That's when I stumbled upon a post about Patrick Moberg's relentless, illustrated search for the 'New York Girl of His Dreams' and assumed my dream as a matchmaker. From the ubiquitous flower to the rosy cheeks, I recognized that the subject of Patrick's search was indeed my friend and fellow sweatshop worker (or 'intern,' as our editors like to joke) Camille.

But perhaps more than trying to unite these star-crossed lovers, I was concerned most of all with clarifying that the shorts were actually corduroy and not the mesh variety connoted by the ‘gym short’ misnomer. I accosted Patrick about the error, confirmed that Camille was in fact the object of his missed affection, and mediated contact between the two. What happens from here is history. A one night stand at the very least.”

Photo courtesy Azikiwe Mohammed.

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