Talking about whether America is ready for post-racial dating with the first-ever Bachelorette of color.
WHEN RACHEL LINDSAY— star of this season of The Bachelorette and the first black Bachelor or Bachelorette ever— arrives at the Loews Hotel in Hollywood just before the current season (now several episodes deep) kicks off, she’s dressed in perfect Los Angeles athleisure: off the-shoulder sweatshirt, cropped work-out pants, Nike sneakers. I was half expecting her to show up in Bachelorette fatigues—shimmering eye shadow,a sequined gown—but the unofficial L.A. uniform of SoulCycle and Sugar fish feels equally appropriate.
Shortly after hugging me hello (“I’m a hugger now!”), Lindsay turns to the producer sitting next to her and asks if she can “spill the tea.” The producer nods. “I am very happy. I am very much so in love. And I am very much so engaged!” She raises her arms over her head, squeal-screams, and I squeal-scream in return. Hours later, she will spill this same tea to People, among others, a revelation that is calculated to tantalize viewers just enough to keep them tuning in to see who the season’s matrimonial minded winner is. “I’ve wanted this for such a long time! I was hopeful this could happen on this journey,” she says and laughs and sighs and shakes her head in disbelief and flashes a gap-toothed grin. God, she is such a good Bachelorette.
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