My first semi-legit boyfriend was a year older than me and leaving for college while I was still a lowly high school senior. It was essentially over when he boarded the plane to Connecticut, but the first few school breaks bore strikingly few signs that anything had changed. Where I expected stilted awkwardness there was a normalcy that almost made me forget that I’d been kissing other boys and he’d probably been screwing everything that walked slow enough to be caught. We’d unwittingly invoked the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell Policy, beloved by oft-separated couples everywhere: do what you like while apart and then act as though nothing happened when together.
Eventually, of course, we broke up because we were too far apart, I had grown taller than him and and we’d both moved on. But for a few months, Don’t Ask, Don’t tell was surprisingly useful and believable. Peripherally, we both knew that everything was different and a bit sloppier, but it didn’t so much matter as long as we neglected to say anything about it. I called it selective memory, my friends called it “deluded” and opinion on Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell remains sharply divided. It worked out for me but it’s been suggested that’s only the case because I have “the emotional range of a snail.” (Thanks Mom.)
In an effort to put together slightly more empirical data on the merits and pit falls of extracurricular action while the boyfriend’s away, I’ve hit up some people who’ve had their way with others and then gone about their girlfriend/boyfriend business to see how it worked for them. Check out their answers after the jump and let us know if it’s worked–or failed miserably–for you in the comments. Keep reading »
Heya, Georgie, we hear congrats is in order—you’re shacking up with your newest girlfriend! Dude, you’re living the dream, you so are. Actually, hold up. Is she a cocktail waitress? And is this the waitress that you met in Vegas? Or the one that you met in South Beach? You certainly have a type, we’ll give you that. Those red-headed, Barbie-measurement, Ph.D-types out there don’t stand a chance. But really, was that you I saw rocking the slurred facial expressions after another night out? And was that you, surrounded by chicks less than half your age? Keep reading »
Kristin Cavallari showed up to the Wizard of Oz Opening Night Gala at the Fashion Institute of Design & Merchandising in Los Angeles last night wearing the same dress Heather Graham wore to a premiere of “The Hangover.” Do we like it on either of them? Not so much. Keep reading »
Marie Claire‘s sensitive man, Rich Santos, feels like he’s undateable. In fact, he’s even made a list of reasons women won’t touch him. He blames his solitude on the habits of longtime bachelordom, his need to be the center of attention, his motormouth, and his not-so-smooth dance moves. (Of the latter, he wrote: “Uncorking the River Dance, or a late ’80s rap move, doesn’t get me anywhere. Also, I employ semi-gay ‘summoning power from the Heavens’ Celine-Dion-like hand gestures.”)
Hey Rich, we’ve got one more to add to your list of red flags — dating a relationship blogger. Sigh, just look at what a mess of our own love lives we Frisky gals have made! But since we are Rich’s female counterparts, we decided to answer his question for the ladies: “What makes a guy more ‘dateable’ to you?” Oh, we’ll tell you what women want, right after the jump.
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People like huffing the smell of the fresh leather in a Louis Vuitton fake purse even more than they like inhaling other drugs. It turns out, knockoff shopaholics have marijuana, heroin, and even cocaine addicts beat! Designer copies are a trillion dollar a year industry, but it’s a business that is also run by shady gangsters, and in some cases, terrorist groups.
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Michelle Obama has been our first lady for just over seven months, and she’s already been attributed with making a positive contribution to the U.S. fashion industry, along with advocating on behalf of military families and more. Now, Jenee Desmond-Harris writes on The Root that Michelle is a role model for single women. Keep reading »
In the latest issue of New York, Emma Rosenblum describes a scene from the new season of “True Blood” (which premieres this Sunday):
“Bill, the brooding village vampire, beds Sookie, his mortal girlfriend, after they’ve had an argument. It’s steamy stuff—makeup sex is still makeup sex, even when one party isn’t technically living. Mid-act, Bill bites Sookie’s neck with his fangs in an orgasmic frenzy, then kisses her, smearing her own red blood down her cheeks and onto her lips.”
Set your DVR, ladies. Keep reading »
If you want a thinner face or you are into Darth Vader chic, then I have the product for you. After mulling over the absurdity that is the Japanese Face Slimmer I understand the beauty process as follows: the mask smushes your face to slim it down. First, it melts the fat off your face by massaging your facial dermis—I have always thought there was a fine line between massaging and mauling. Then, the sweat produced from the poorly-ventilated mask combined with the sweat from your chubby cheeks acts as a sauna.
If you have the self-confidence to actually wear this face mask, then kudos to you. For the rest of us who lack egos of steel, a good (or even mediocre) bronzer can fake high cheekbones without the risk of permanently scarring your cat/boyfriend/neighbors, etc. [$32, Japanese Face Slimmer, Amazon] Keep reading »