It’s a cloudy winter day in New York City, the type that blends the streetscape into a gray blur of coats. On the corner of Fifth Avenue and 52nd Street, a tall young man swaggers toward me, impossible to miss among the hurrying muggles. “I’m Rafael,” he says as he extends his hand. Even hidden behind his black Ray-Bans, he stands out. At 6’2″ and more than a few hamburgers shy of what most guys weigh at that height, Rafael Valentino is clearly a model. He’s also my lunch date.I’d like to think I know better, but a handful of tired “male model” associations were at the front of my mind when we met — post-meal vomit sessions, late…
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