I don't have the new Cosmo yet! Tragedy! But I do have Glamour (Shouldn't that be "Glamor" in the US?) and that's basically the same thing! Sandra Bullock on the cover! I can't argue with plaid!
Going to work without makeup: 49% say it's a DO, 51% say it's a DON'T.
Where do these people work? Because if you're a face-to-face sales rep or something, then maybe you have to. But I'd guess more than 49% of people work in jobs that don't require the "businessy" look--either no one cares what you look like (IT tech, maintenance worker) or the professional standard isn't heels-and-hose based (nurse, police officer). And then, well, what the heck? Wear makeup if it makes you happy for some perverse reason, and if it doesn't... don't. You don't owe it to the world to emphasize your sexual characteristics when you're just at fuckin' work.
Makeup is a nice little option to add to your appearance if you wish. But women who feel "naked without it" give me the heebie jeebies. Do you really look that bad?
(Side note: these women's magazines always seem to assume all their readers have a particular kind of job. Something office-based, upper-middle-class, business-casual, not heavily dependent on a technical skill, nine to five, and heavy on the office politics. It's almost like they think we're all... hmm... magazine editors.)
How to tell him to get better clothes: ...You lie next to your peacefully sleeping boyfriend. After making sure he's down for the count, you sneak over to his dresser, shove a couple of particularly awful items in a bag and hurry out the door.
NO. Do not do this. Do not fucking destroy someone else's property because it offends your aesthetics. It's not cute, it's not mischievous, it's not funny, and it's not something you fucking do. Maybe he hates some of the things you own, you know that? Would you like your stuff to just disappear with a tee-hee and a "now we can get you things I like"? I don't fucking think so.
How to talk to the sexiest guy at the party: ..."Are you a model? Or did I have sex with you in college?"
How to make the sexiest guy at the party awkwardly mutter "uh, nope, uh, don't think so" while backing away so fast he may trip over something.
Don't show [a date] photos featuring your most attractive friends.
I agree that subjecting a date to a wacky cameraphone slideshow of people he doesn't know isn't a great move. But the "most attractive" part is creepy. Am I really supposed to be so damn insecure that I need to shield him from the sight of women prettier than me? Shit, he's going to leave your control in a couple hours, and then he might look at ANYONE! OH NOES! BLIND HIM!
Hey, it's OK! ...to think the fireworks were a wee bit excessive. Ooh, aah, how many small countries could that have fed?
Well aren't you just a bundle of fun.
(And this in a magazine promoting $172 jean shorts and a $268 skirt.)
Yes, This Woman is a "Mail-Order Bride"
So wow. Wow. There's a whole article on a woman from the Ukraine who met a much older and richer man on a marriage brokerage website and moved to the US to marry him, and he spent about $20,000 on "the process" and "expenses." But they really love each other and she's very independent and very happy, it was just an unconventional way to meet.
Which may be true. But nonetheless the article is kind of unsettling. She talks about going to the US and getting citizenship in a lot more detail than actually liking or having a relationship with the guy; her opinion of him seems more like "well, given the choices, not unacceptable" than "my love." And the "his story" sidebar reads as seriously evasive--he had a couple bad dates and then he just spontaneously decided to fly in a Ukranian lady on a whim, you know, like anyone might. What a wacky lark that worked out so well!
Hell, I believe them when they say their relationship isn't domineering and they're both happy. But it's still creepy.
Maybe it's just the photo. The photo is priceless. (And not just because of Evil Pop Art Mickey.)
CC put it best: "Oh, I've seen this photo before. In nursing home ads."
(I'm not talking about age so much as the intersection of the worshipful/befuddled upward gaze and the "isn't he cute? almost like a person!" downward gaze. Although at least the nurse is actually looking at her elderly client.)
Put on a 2 percent salicylic acid lotion from the drugstore. ...Or dissolve an aspirin tablet (salicylic acid in solid form) in a bit of water to form a paste, apply to the breakout and rinse after three minutes.
This is how the orgasm fairy tale goes: you meet Prince Charming, and the very first time, he knows exactly how your body works. There's some kissing, some foreplay, some moaning and, after maybe 10 minutes of intercourse, bam--a shattering climax for two. Angels may even sing. If your sex life fits this description, kudos. If not, this story is for you.
Welp, guess this story isn't for me then! Ciao!