Wednesday, August 19, 2026
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Jesse Dougherty knew he wanted to be a writer at least as far back as second grade, and unlike most people, he actually pulled it off: he made a good living doing his dream job, writing about sports at The Washington Post. Then, when his wife was nine months pregnant, it all fell apart. For our series Dispatches from the New Middle Age, Dougherty wrote an open letter to his infant daughter about what he learned in the process. It’s a great read. –Kevin Dupzyk, features director
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His whole life, the author was interested in only one kind of work. He did it and did it well—until he got laid off at the worst possible moment.
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Dear Eva,
You roared into our world this winter, seven pounds, two ounces, and with your mother’s eyes, bright blue and shaped like jumbo almonds, searching for something good. Whenever you were awake in the hospital, I stared straight into them, not picturing who you’d be quite yet, just marveling at what you already were, breathing and real. Then as soon as you fell asleep, I’d grab my phone to announce you, to family and friends, to anyone I could think of, really, telling them, This is my daughter, she’s real, she breathes.
I had relocated my job from D. C. to St. Louis, where I’d cover college sports for the Post, where we planned to raise a family—to raise you—just a short drive from your Nan and Tom Tom. Money was good, the lower state taxes sprinkling another dinner out on top of every paycheck. Over big pours of wine, we mused about opening a bookstore, about how Mom would run it and make baked goods to sell at the register.
And then, Eva, when we had packed our bags for the hospital, when we were just 16 days from meeting you, I received an email at 7:58 a.m., before I had finished my first cup of coffee. The subject line: Your Role Is Eliminated by Today’s Workforce Reductions.
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It is that time of the year, and my friends and I are at that age: My calendar is full of weddings. Every few months, I’m flying to another city with a formal dress, nice shoes, several outfit changes, all my makeup and hair tools, and everything else I need for a weekend away. The answer, obviously, is a carry-on. But short of a Rimowa—which, believe it or not, is not in the budget—nothing has ever been perfect. I need something that looks good, first off, and it has to strike that elusive balance between lightweight and sturdy so I can carry it over the even more hostile cobblestone streets at someone’s destination wedding town.
So, what’s come to my rescue? July’s new Capsule Carry On Pro. I’ve already brought it to multiple weddings and plenty of ordinary weekends at my parents’ place in the Berkshires. Now I’ll never travel without.
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When I hop on a Zoom with Alexander Ludwig, I’m taken aback. He’s bright-eyed, gives me a giant smile, and is genuinely excited to chat. And that might not seem all that strange to you, but given the fact that it’s 9:00 p.m. in Paris, he’s just put two toddlers to bed, and he’s coming off a day of filming the new season of The White Lotus, I’m impressed.
Ludwig makes balancing dad life with shooting one of the hottest shows on TV—not to mention the catalyst for our conversation, starring in a Perry Ellis campaign—look easy. But it’s not. “When you’re a dad, every day is training day,” he says, laughing. “You have to train to be able to keep up with them. I was taking the kids to get ice cream, and I ended up carrying them back, hoping that I could make it in time for our call, and now I’m fucking sweating. Like, this is what I wear every day.”
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