I spent two weeks prancing around a studio in Queens in my underwear with nine other guys. They were long days. But what the hell, it was Calvin Klein.

I was going to get the Carolyn Bessette story out of her one way or another.

I began to believe the fairy tales: You know, how we're all out there looking for our magical missing half.

We're all pretty ordinary on paper.

I didn't know a damn thing about style.

Thank God for little miracles, right?

I wanted to grow up to be just like my father.