In a classic episode of “Sex and the City,” Miranda has an epiphany: A guy may “just not be that into” her.
Miranda was thrilled with this revelation. She can now stop being anxiety-ridden over a man’s mixed messages. She can now shrug and say, “Well, he’s just not that into me,” and move on. Women everywhere sighed with relief … or did we? Keep reading »
My boyfriend and I lay in his childhood bedroom, surrounded by all of his favorite stuff from high school. We were almost 30.
“I don’t feel the same way about you as you do about me,” he said.
I rolled over and started to cry silently while staring at his trophy collection. This was our third disagreement in six months as a couple. Keep reading »
The o.b. shortage is coming to an end with supplies of non-applicator plugs re-upping in stores around the country. For me, the panic that drove women to buy boxes of overpriced tampons on eBay was solace for a shameful secret: I was 29 years old and had never gone to a store and bought menstrual products. Keep reading »
Hello there. You. Yes, you! I have something I would like to talk to you about.
It’s come up a couple of times recently and it’s gotten so irritating that I finally have to say something about it. I’m pretty sure you’re not even aware of what you’re doing or why it bothers me. So here it goes.
I would like you to ask me out on a freaking date. Keep reading »
“There was (and still is) something wrong with me. And it’s the same thing that’s ‘wrong’ with pretty much every single woman in New York complaining she can’t find a decent man … We don’t know what we want. And so we want a little bit of everything, over and over again.”
Jennifer Doll’s words on the plight of the NYC single woman in the Village Voice last week have been keeping me awake at night. She’s right. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed that I’m rendered inert by my confusion. I’m stuck. Keep reading »
A few years ago my friend Dana and I were volunteers for Minds Matter, a non-profit organization that helps underprivileged kids get into college. Dana, a white Florida hippie who had a thing for rap music, was hoping to boost her resume in order to secure a teaching fellowship in the city. My goal as a biracial fashion executive was just to help underprivileged minority girls get into college. The program was amazing. Every Saturday, Dana and I, along with a hundred other mentors would devote hours to our mentees and help them identify the schools best suited for them, complete their applications, and draft their personal essays. My mentee was a beautiful African American high school senior from Harlem named Jaleesa. She was smart, hardworking, and respectful, and I had come to view her like a little sister. To know that I was helping this young and talented girl into to college made me really proud, and protective. Keep reading »