Dissociative Girlhood through the Eyes of a Millionaire Twice my Age

and then, finally, my own

FOREVER LOLITA

I flew to New York alone for the first time at 17. I had just won Miss Teen USA and was coming to the city for media training and a press tour. I wore a denim mini-skirt I got at the pacsun in the mall where I also bought my first bra.

I was reading The Sun Also Rises and sat next to a man who resembled the professor of my first writing cl…