Victoria Kalina Hangs Up Her Boots

On a humid mid-August evening, Victoria Kalina tells me to give her sexy eyes. Standing in front of a mirrored wall at a midtown Manhattan dance studio, her blonde hair cascading loose down the back of her pink shirt, she asks, “Who’s your man crush?” Paul Mescal, I confess. “I want you to imagine he’s here,” she says, “and turn to look at me.” She counts me in — five, six, seven, eight — and I snap my head to meet her stare, trying to look seductive as my six-and-a-half-month...