Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not here to try and make you like Negronis. This list is inspired by my last year of making drinks for Jessie Wakeman: Frisky writer, girly drinker par excellence, and my wife. I like mixing cocktails and I’ve always kept my home bar as well-stocked as money allowed. But when I moved in with Jessie, who doesn’t like the taste of alcohol at all, I had to switch up my game a bit to find drinks we could both get together on.
The two requirements for a “girly drink” are that it be at least a little sweet and that it smooths out the rough edges of the hard liquor. No shame in either of those goals, but you don’t need cake-flavoured vodkas or slushies that glow green to get there. Here’s a list of improved girly drinking options for a variety of boozing scenarios.
When you come from a small town, or from the peaceful, leafy suburbs of Bumblefuck, Western Australia (like I did), dating in any big, cosmopolitan city can be a strange and troubling experience. It can also be a lot of fun. Here are my six rules for getting the most out of dating in in the city and staying sane and positive while you’re at it. Keep reading »
A study by researchers in Bangor University and Aberdeen University surveyed 44 students and reported that subjects found women with makeup less attractive than the same women without makeup. They actually proved this with numbers. Numbers! Look, Mom, I scienced! The study was published by the Quarterly Journal of Experimental Psychology and picked up yesterday by TIME.
The Frisky was not present when this study was conceived, but we like to imagine it looked something like this: Keep reading »
“How do women decide to begin a sexual relationship? Pricing!”
The above video showed up in my Facebook feed the other night. It’s from a purported think tank, the Austin Institute for the Study of Family and Culture, which is actually a Christian think tank/advocacy group. The video claims to be a scientific look at the “Economics of Sex” based on the concept that men want sex for its own sake but women want sex for intimacy, security and, ultimately, marriage. Therefore sex is a “resource,” subject to supply and demand, which women control. “Men know that sex is cheap these days if they know where to look!” we are told. The video then implores women to dole out the supply of their resource to men (the “demand”) in exchange for other stuff. Essentially: ‘All sex is prostitution and women are prostitutes.’ Hello, Christian Right! Thought you were in there somewhere.
There’s so much in this video that makes me mad, I almost don’t know where to start: the fact that it’s a call to female solidarity drawn and directed entirely by men; the fact that they talk about women ‘policing women’s relationship interests’ when they mean slut shaming; the comparison of the birth control pill to chemical pesticides; the blazing heteronormativity. Smart women have already chimed in on this stuff, though, so I’ll focus on the completely bullshit notion that “men want sex more than women do.” I’m not saying this statement is untrue — I’m saying it’s utter nonsense to which no truth value can be assigned.
Keep reading »
“I don’t think you’d make a very good ‘Bachelor,’” Jessie says to me, halfway through the second episode of the current season. (“The Bachelor” is appointment snuggle viewing in our marriage.) For some reason, it really bristles me.
“What, you don’t think I could show a couple dozen ladies a good time?” I remember asking. “I would be a great ‘Bachelor’! I’m a fun date! I’m a good time guy! You should know that about me by now.”
“Of course you are,” she reassures me. “I just meant I don’t think you would fall in love with the kind of girls who end up on ‘The Bachelor.’”
“Well … fine, I guess you’re right,” I admit. “Just don’t forget: good time guy. I could date the shit out of these women if I wanted to. They would know they were being romanced and they wouldn’t forget it.”
“They would like it, too.”
“Alright!” Keep reading »
I remember the first time I went back to Jessie’s apartment after a pretty awesome date. Like most first times, I felt excited and more than a little nervous. I already knew I liked her more than anyone I’d met in a long time, so the stakes were high. Also, we’d both eaten more cheese that evening than I consider ideal for hot sex.
I figured she was thinking along the same lines when she stopped me in the middle of wrestling with her bra clasp. (I’m about raw passion, not fine motor skills.) Instead, she crossed to her dresser, flipped her laptop open and punched up a Spotify playlist. I couldn’t help laughing a little when I recognized the beginning of Kelis’ “In Public,” one of the sillier sex jams of the early aughties. But the extra sway in her hips as she walked back to the bed shut me up.
I later found out that the playlist was straightforwardly titled “Sex Songs” — an ever-growing and evolving beast of a thing she’s been gradually adding to for years. It still forms the background to most of our bedroom-bound sex and I’ve come to regard it with considerable affection. Keep reading »