Whenever anyone asks my mother what I was like as a child, she always responds by telling stories of her first attempts to put me in a dress as a toddler.
“I would just finish dressing her and she would be looking like the cutest little princess,” she usually relays, “After I turned my back for one moment, I would look to find her in a dirt pile giggling and covered with mess.”
I was not a very “girlie” little girl. I liked to run around, climb trees, rollerblade, discover large yucky bugs under rocks and roughhouse with the boys in my neighborhood. And my mom really didn’t mind. After a while, she just sort of gave up on the idea that she would have the kind of little girl that would get all dressed with pink ribbons and bows and host imaginary tea parties. She let me be me; Tiffanie the explorer and adventurer. I am always grateful that she did. Keep reading »
Portland art director Danielle Delph questioned whether she’d have been friends with her mother if they’d grown up together and what that might have looked like, so she Photoshopped herself into pictures of her mom’s childhood. Her photo series If I Had Known My Mother Back Then depicts her and her mother hanging out as toddlers, teenagers and everything in between. On her website, she ponders:
“I’ve always wondered if my mom and I would have been friends had we grown up together. Would we be in the same classes? Would we have the same sense of humor? Would people tell us we’re inseparable? After seeing myself in her childhood photos, I’m pretty sure we would have been great friends.”
Keep reading »
I have a theory: Esquire is on women’s side when it comes to the whole friendzone thing. Meaning, they get it. When a woman decides that she’s not romantically interested in one of her male friends, that’s kind of the bottom line. She’s drawn her boundaries in their relationship and that’s the end of the story. And that’s why they’re giving men terrible, terrible fashion advice to get out of the “friendzone.” Keep reading »
Six days ago, a nicely-dressed man waiting on the platform for the 6 train zipped down his fly and exposed his penis to me. I turned around and hid behind the corner until I saw an officer and reported it. Once the subway arrived and rumbled downtown, my thoughts started to snowball. Though some may argue it was “harmless,” I was an unwilling, non-consensual participant who fulfilled his sexual desires. I was a freshman in college all over again. But now, five years later, I’m ready to share my story. Read More On Huffington Post Women…
One of the things I lost when I stopped shampooing and cutting my hair was regular hangouts with my former hairstylist/now friend, Maggie. I met her after several bad experiences at Hair Cuttery and Great Clips, where I’d go for a $20 hair cut, say, “Fuck my hair up!” and the stylist would interpret that as “You want a layered bob.” I did not want a layered bob. I wanted fucked-up hair.
I think I was 22 when I started seeing Maggie on the reg. I decided I’d splurge on a $35 haircut at Regis, one of those slightly-more-upscale mall hair salons where you learn that paying $15 more for your haircut really goes a long way. It was a lot for me at the time when you counted the tip, too, but Maggie made it worth it. I said, “Fuck up my hair!” and she looked at my hair for a minute or so, decided how to artfully fuck it up, and proceeded to do so. Keep reading »
I’m not going to lie, male friendship is a mystifying thing to me. Whenever I overhear dude friends having really personal conversations, I feel like I’m hiding behind a bush observing a unicorn. Most of my best friends have been guys, and specifically straight guys, but our friendships have always taken on a different tenor than their friendships with each other. Like, I know that guys can be kind of vulnerable with each other, but again, only because I’ve overheard it, not because they’re publicly open about it in the way that women are — really, are allowed to be. Keep reading »