I was at a flea market this weekend with a friend, relishing in my new discovery that yes, despite the fact that I am only five-feet tall, I can actually wear three-quarter-length skirts as long as I wear heels, when I happened upon the perfect new skirt. The only trouble? My friend Sarah thought it was the perfect new skirt, too — for her. At first, her praise of the brightly-colored button-down vintage skirt (priced at a reasonable $20) was neutral. Until she tried the skirt on, too, and realized it fit her (at a good eight inches taller than me) just as well as me. “Wellllll, you know, that skirt is exactly what I’ve been looking for…” she said, her voice trailing off. Keep reading »
Ladies, there is absolutely no shame in diversifying your dating portfolio. In fact, it’s highly encouraged to put your eggs into lots of different baskets while you’re a free agent, as long as you can do it without being a total dick. There is an art to dating multiple guys at once while keeping your dating karma intact. After the jump, what is acceptable and unacceptable while juggling multiple men. Keep reading »
Like most of you, my mailbox has been filling with Christmas cards over the last couple weeks from extended family members and far-flung friends of my husband’s and mine whom we haven’t seen in an eternity. And while it’s nice to get mail other than bills and junk, I can’t help but feel a little jaded and Scrooge-y every time I open one of those cards and find there isn’t so much as a hand-written signature, let alone a personal note. In a lot of cases, these cards aren’t even really greeting cards as much as they’re photos of friends’ kids with text below their smiling faces that says something like “Happy Holidays! From the Gordmans!” The back of the photo cards are almost always blank with plenty of room for a brief greeting. So, why isn’t there one? Keep reading »
Around the same time I started raking in the big bucks (courtesy of the Tooth Fairy), my father started enforcing the rule that the topic of money was off-limits in polite conversation. There was no, “Hey, how much was your incisor worth?” in my house. And the one time I asked my dad the amount of the bill at a restaurant, he handed it to me since he assumed I was offering to pay. I never asked again. Keep reading »
Teacher Cord Ivanyi, a Latin instructor at Gilbert Classical Academy, was tired of seeing boys physically push aside girls as they rushed through the classroom door. So at the beginning of this school year, Ivanyi told his students the new classroom rules about chivalry: boys would hold doors for girls; boys would ask girls if they would like to be seated; boys would offer to take girls’ backpacks before they sit down; boys would stand if a girl leaves the room; and girls would be served first if food is in the classroom.
“All boys will understand chivalry,” Ivanyi told The Arizona Republic. “It’s teaching them social grace. It’s things they should know when they do go out on dates.” All the students, boys and girls, were reportedly awkward about the mandated chivalry at first. But Ivanyi, as well as girls quoted by various media outlets, say girls seem to be enjoying the chivalry and some chivalrous behavior is even extending beyond the classroom.
Mandated chivalry may be a well-intentioned idea. And it may well have taught some kids to be conscious of the basic concept of good manners, which is to be considerate of others’ well-being. But mandating chivalry in the classroom could not be a more misguided set of rules. Keep reading »
New relationships are all about keeping up the lie. “I don’t have any flaws. And I most certainly do not poop!” Right? It’s amazing how long one can go pretending their no-no factory never pumps out any by-products. But oh, the truth will set you free. So we asked our Frisky BFFs, guys and gals: How long do you wait before unleashing the beast while hanging out with a new sexytime friend? Keep reading »
Today is my birthday. I’m 26 years old today — but I look much younger. With my big, brown eyes and round cheeks, people who don’t know me often mistake me for being in my early 20s or even in my teens. (It probably doesn’t help matters that my maturity hovers around the “Yo Gabba Gabba!” level at times.) Looking younger than my actual age is both a blessing and a curse. It is difficult, as a young-looking woman, to be taken seriously by older people when I discuss politics, society or culture. I’m not going to complain about being told that I “look so young,” though, when the latter is meant as a compliment. Who doesn’t enjoy compliments?
But I’ll admit I feel weird accepting those compliments sometimes. Why should I be flattered that I look young? Keep reading »