Leandra Medine's Blog, page 101

5 Times I *Thought* I Was Flirting

My flirting abilities peaked in middle school. It was easy, at 13, to flirt from behind the safety of a computer screen, since all of my romantic relationships took root in the rich soil of an AIM chatroom. While I stumbled and stuttered the first time I told a boy “I like you” to his face, on AIM I gained a reputation as a certified heartbreaker. It was there that I got my first boyfriend, Adam W, whom I promptly dumped for my second boyfriend, Ryan.

Chatting with Ryan via heart emoticons was easy, but the prospect of meeting in person sent a shiver down my spine. Eventually, though, there was no other choice; we would be meeting, at his request, under the bleachers at a high school football game. The first words I spoke to Ryan were uttered under those bleachers, where I extended the small talk for as long as I could bear before we decided to kiss. Ryan told me I tasted like chapstick. I told him I appreciated the compliment. We broke up shortly after, and I soon entered high school only to discover I was not quite as adept at flirting in the real world as I had thought.

In fact, as time has gone on, I’ve come to believe the radar that others use to figure out when someone is flirting with them is broken in me, if not completely absent. Because many times I have thought I was flirting, and many times I have been wrong. Here, dear reader, are five of those times, explained.

That Time I Needed Assistance at Williams Sonoma

An old boss once asked me to help her with a photoshoot. Because my job at that time was to “bring personality” to the social media pages of various cleaning products, I salivated at the idea of escaping the trenches of Twitter to be “on set.” I was filled with visions of flashing lights, brushing hair off of models’ cheeks, and a large snack spread. I was not filled with visions of hefting slabs of marble that she had bought from Williams Sonoma across town. And yet, when my boss handed me a list of “photoshoot errands,” that task was at the top.

The problem was, when I got to Williams Sonoma, I could not lift even one slab of marble, a realization that brought me to tears and confirmed my trainer’s accusations of a weak core. Tragic heroine that I was, a man swooped in and offered to help me carry the slabs back to the office. It became immediately clear that this man was in love with me, but it wasn’t until we were almost back at my office that he offered to have me over for dinner. I smiled. I said yes. I was no longer crying. “Great,” he responded, “my husband loves to cook.”

That Time I Fell in Love on the Subway

Once my roommate got a boy’s number on the subway. A stranger had been flirting with her, incessantly asking for her number, and another stranger came to her rescue—walked up to the two of them talking and claimed to be her boyfriend, just like something out of a movie. I was, of course, envious of her meet cute; I wanted my own subway romance.

I decided to start with suggestive eye contact. During my first attempt, I trained my gaze upon a young man across from me. My eye contact, I was surprised to find, was returned. Staring into each other’s eyes, I felt that the chemistry was so palpable I remember being vaguely worried for the poor souls trapped in our Love Boat (subway car). He broke the silence first. As his mouth opened, I was already prepared to give him my number, my love, my everything.

“What’re you staring at?” he asked me, in a tone that I was dismayed to note was aggressive.

“You,” I whispered back, hoping we could turn things around.

“You’re just a poor little rich girl,” he replied, before taking his leave.

I’m still not sure what he meant, and I still maintain that it’s possible we were flirting, though my friends insist on telling me otherwise.

The Time Sebastian Trained Me

I once hired a one-time personal training session with a man named Sebastian, and soon learned I have trouble interpreting the kind of touching training involves as professional. So when, after an hour of sweaty banter, Sebastian told me to “hit the showers,” it sounded quite suggestive. In retrospect, I may have just smelled. And later, when he slid a pamphlet of pricing options across the table towards me, I realized his kindness was more likely a marketing ploy than a courting exercise. That said, I still see him at the gym from time to time, so I’m open to any signals that suggest otherwise.

That Time I Met a Haim Doppelganger

I’ve left my number for many men and women over the course of my life. Most often I’ll leave it on the back of a receipt at a restaurant or bar, along with a note for them to “Call me!” written in my most legible handwriting. It’s the coward’s way of flirting, I’ll confess, a sort of throwback to my beloved AIM chatroom days. But I like it: If they decide not to call, if they have a girlfriend or a boyfriend, I never have to know. (Although I tell myself they simply lost the receipt and then realize I can never go back to that restaurant again.)

Recently, a bartender was tasked with serving my friends and I. She looked like the most beautiful member of Haim, so I, of course, decided to tell her so. “You look like the most beautiful member of Haim,” I said, and started pulling up photos on my phone. She responded by bringing over three free shots of tequila on the house. I took this as a sign and decided to leave her my number. But in a bout of unfortunate timing, she came to grab the check before I left and saw my note. She smiled at me and said, “I’m not…” and I realized with dawning disappointment that this was simply one more bar to which I would never return.

That Time I Tried to Woo My Pharmacist

Every time I go to the pharmacy, I feel like I’m assisted either by a wildly attractive pharmacist or someone of barely legal drinking age. Nothing like asking the 14-year-old behind the counter for your Plan B to make sure you stay grounded. But with the more attractive (and age-appropriate) alternative, I maintain that flirting with my pharmacist is almost always possible, even when that pharmacist is handing me my prescription-strength Monistat.

According to my mother, I have always had a “weak stomach,” which means I am a frequent patron of my local pharmacy. Upon returning from a recent trip to Costa Rica, I made a trip to the pharmacy to pick up some prescriptions and, on my way through the store, grabbed a few handfuls of Imodium. I placed my goods on the counter, only to look into the eyes of a man who, I am convinced, has a second job as a model. He asked for my name (a good sign). He started listing off my medications while I nodded in an attempt to appear breezy (a hard vibe to pull off whilst calculating how long I could last before I needed access to the nearest bathroom).

When he asked if I needed anything else, I replied, “Just my usual,” expecting a laugh that did not come. This, I will admit, was a less good sign. He asked me to confirm my address, my phone number. “That’s my number, all right!” I replied with, I’ll admit it, a wink. After he bagged my prescriptions and handed them to me, I attempted a sexy waltz out of the store on the off chance he was watching. He never called. But of course, my beautiful pharmacist would never commit such a breach of privacy.

I may look back with nostalgia on the days of AIM and away messages, but in today’s world of Tinder and Bumble, I’ve found that it’s still possible to flirt sans verbal communication, so I remain hopeful. I’ve got a classic opening line, a profile picture in which I’m wearing a beret, a bio that explains my cat allergy. For all the perils of the apps, I can at least find solace in one certainty: We are flirting.

Gif by Emily Zirimis.

The post 5 Times I *Thought* I Was Flirting appeared first on Man Repeller.

The Best Sex Ed I Ever Got Was From Queer YouTubers

Is YouTube trying to tell me something? I thought, when “How to Eat Pussy the Right Way” appeared at the top of my recommended videos. I could have been mildly offended by the algorithm’s insinuation, but as soon as I clicked, my indignation dissolved. Looking back, I owe that algorithm a debt of gratitude for two gifts that have since changed my life: Stevie Boebi, creator of the aforementioned video, and the queer online world she champions.

Three years ago, in response to an influx of queer teenage girls pleading for sexual guidance, Stevie founded YouTube’s first ever Lesbian Sex 101 series. With videos ranging from “How to Flirt” to “Fisting 101,” there’s virtually no topic she won’t discuss. She draws diagrams, demonstrates fingering techniques on water bottles, and screams about consent and communication at every available opportunity. It’s glorious. Within my first two hours on her channel, she had answered practically every question about sex I’d ever been afraid to ask.

The demand for a series like this makes sense. If kids aren’t getting this stuff in school—only 12 percent of millennials reported learning same-sex education at all—they’re most likely picking it up from their peers or from porn. Of course the queer kids were in need of a road map. Myself included, apparently.

While Stevie has one of the largest bodies of work on YouTube dedicated to the topic (and the only one with titles quite as blatant as “Literally How to Scissor”), she’s not the only influencer filling in the gaps in heteronormative curriculums. Through her, I’ve discovered a vast network of queer content creators doing the good work for the LGBTQ community; a veritable gay goldmine beneath the surface of a platform I had been frequenting for years.

In a single night, I jumped from Ash Hardell to Dodie Clark to Gaby Dunn to Amber’s Closet to Rose and Rosie until it was 3 a.m. and I had lost all concept of time and space. I was hooked. Almost instantly, “Queer YouTube,” as I lovingly began to call it, became a critical extension of my formal education. And once people like Alayna Fender and Hannah Witton highlighted the gaps in their own sex ed, I began to recognize what was missing from mine.

I had never even heard of a dental dam, for instance, before Stevie showed me how to make one out of a condom, nor did I have an ounce of familiarity with sex toys until Ari Fitz walked me through the logistics. Melanie Murphy was the first to inform me that washing your vagina with soap actually does more harm than good, and her sister Jessie’s enlightening video on “Shaving ‘Down There’” leaves no question unanswered at 13 minutes long. My gynecologist doesn’t even go into that kind of detail. The reach of videos like hers point to a severe stigma around talking about basic sexual health and anatomy.

Just as striking Queer YouTubers’ openness is the passion they have for their work: Despite how often YouTube demonetizes LGBTQ content, they continue to make videos. The effect of this kind of authenticity is powerful—it makes conversations about sex less intimidating. Whereas at one point I avoided the word vagina at all costs and wore headphones to watch Melanie’s masturbation tips, suddenly I was publicly denouncing societal perceptions of BDSM and enthusiastically explaining the difference between a vagina and a vulva (and that not all women have one or both). At this point I barely remember why sex talk made me uncomfortable in the first place.

Beyond teaching STI prevention and sexting tutorials, for many of these creators the most influential component of their videos is increasing visibility by simply sharing their experiences—not just in terms of sex, but of relationships, polyamory, sexual orientation, gender identity, mental illness, disability, and the ways in which they intersect. It was representation I’d never seen in any other form of media. For the first time, my educators were people in my community—polyamorous lesbians, bisexual trans men, asexual women, nonbinary couples, and queer people on every spectrum in between—all with their own perspectives and stories to tell, learning from each other in tandem. People like Jackson Bird and Stef Sanjati gave me the vocabulary to be a better trans ally, and collaborations like Ash and Melanie’s proved the importance of the conversation itself. And who better to give relationship advice on “How to Be Friends With Your Ex” than YouTube’s reigning lesbian queens Shannon Beveridge and Cammie Scott?

After two years on the outskirts of this weird little world, my favorite video to this day is still the one that served as my entry point: Stevie’s “Lesbian YouTuber Crushes.” “A really good friend once told me,” she said, “that changing the world is as easy as just talking about yourself.”

By sharing their personal stories, these influencers taught me more about my own community than I learned in 17 years of school and 22 years of life, ultimately making me a louder and prouder member of it. They provided a safe space for me to explore before I was comfortable asking questions, and they gave me the tools to start the conversation once I was. Above all, Queer YouTubers taught me what the American education system never quite managed: That there is always more to learn.

Feature collage by Emily Zirimis. 

The post The Best Sex Ed I Ever Got Was From Queer YouTubers appeared first on Man Repeller.

21 Email Newsletters That Are Truly Worth Opening

Nora didn’t know she was opening the floodgates when she defined me with the following attributes in the Man Repeller newsletter: “Edith’s always there to share the best newsletters (she subscribes to 17!!!), tell me a story about urban raccoons, and secretly put the Ratatouille soundtrack on in the office.” My coworkers started asking me for recommendations. Then I did an Al Gore-inspired recount and discovered I had undersold my inbox by at least 10.

Under the digital weight of these emails, you’d think subscribing to so many newsletters would make me an automatic inbox-zero failure, but I’ve got my system down to a science: Whenever I receive a newsletter, I immediately move it to a folder entitled “Leisure Reading” so that it doesn’t gum up the works of my action items and can be devoured as a treat later rather than as an obligation now. It works wonders. Below, for your subscribing pleasure, I’ve catalogued the evidence of my intrigue with the art form that is the newsletter. Gird your loins, your web browser, and your inbox.

For the Inbox That Needs Its Own Library Ladder

1. The one that will make you want to write a newsletter, even if you never hit send: the collected ahp

Anne Helen Petersen is a senior culture writer for Buzzfeed and academic with a PhD in Media Studies with a focus on the history of celebrity gossip and she’s currently on book leave, tapping into the deep well of millennial burnout. Her newsletter serves as an outlet for her to essentially free-write, uninhibited by an editor or an outlet’s verticals. The experience of reading these pieces is like seeing a comedian riffing with their friends at a house party after watching their Netflix standup special on your couch.

2. The one I look forward to each month: Read Like the Wind

Consider this The Molly Young Review of Books, an e-periodical that seems to have been wished into existence. More often than not, her recommendations predate the advent of Mailchimp, and sometimes Molly Young herself. The monthly cadence is woefully underrated and underused—its infrequency feels most akin to an analog newsletter delivered by the postal service.

3. The one for anyone who’s ever questioned their worth in a bookbinding class: Notes From a Small Press

Anne Trubek writes illuminating bulletins on processes within the publishing industry: one recent dispatch elucidated advances and royalties, and how they’re approached by publishers big and small. Written from her experience founding and running a small press, the emails will eventually morph into her forthcoming book, So You Want to Publish a Book? I recommend the newsletter to anyone who’s ever dreamed of writing a book or whose favorite part of “Bojack Horseman” is the riff on Penguin.

4. The one seasoned with fresh herb: Gossamer

Gossamer, a print magazine “for people who also smoke weed,” repackages its “Conversations” as a newsletter. Gossamer doesn’t cast the same six people everyone else seems to be profiling—I meet someone new every time. Through Gossamer, I’ve been virtually acquainted with luminaries like Hector Guadalupe, who runs a foundation teaching and placing formerly incarcerated personal trainers in jobs, fashion designer Recho Omondi, and Barry’s Sarah Goldberg through this pipeline. Gossamer doesn’t skimp on the juicy photos, either—they’re as close to “full bleed” as you can get in a Gmail browser.

5. The one of those instances of nepotism where it’s a little murky because the newsletter’s quality still merits a spot on this list and just so happens to be an extension of this platform: MR Picks

Once Nora and I split a lotto ticket at a bodega by Katz’s Deli (you really shouldn’t split lotto tickets, btw) and she told me that if we won, she’d quit her job in favor of living as a lighthouse keeper, but she’d still keep doing the MR Picks newsletter on the side. That’s how much Nora loves writing it. Like and subscribe, folks.

For the Inbox of a Capital “A” Aesthete

6. The one for the ligature-ati: Typewolf

This one pains me most to identify because I liked keeping it my little secret. The Typewolf Tuesday Issues are my go-to for putting a face to a name, typographically speaking, and for learning about new design-conscious brands.

7. The one for if you, like me, are in the midst of an apartment decor project: Editor’s Notes

I admire any intellectual who can talk and write about art and design in an unpretentious, accessible way—Kelsey Keith, Curbed’s Editor-in-Chief, is one of them. In the first newsletter installment, she wrote about the 10 apartments she rented in her 14-year New York tenure, complete with shopping recommendations that Keith herself has been on the hunt for, too, like cork-colored coffee tables and unscented candles you can burn during dinner.

8. The one for those with champagne taste on a beer budget: Things I Would Buy if I Didn’t Have to Pay Rent

Anna Gray is a market whiz and writes the kind of quippy copy that will make you spit out your Moon Juice. She also has a knack for finding the most lavish investments to splurge on in an aspirational alternate universe: seashell spoons with leather handles, a Tribeca spa where they filmed a scene in Billions, real estate listings that look like the backdrop of Lars von Trier’s Melancholia, etc.

9. The one with news about chairs and stuff!: Surface Design Dispatch

I consider Surface my primary news source in the design world: They cover all sorts of media, from fashion and painting to architecture and furniture, and it’s refreshing to read about all the fields in relation to each other, rather than in their own silos. Their shopping roundups are a bit like if The Strategist could only review items that would look period-appropriate in a Mies van der Rohe interior.

For the Inbox that Eats News for Breakfast

10. The one that tries not to spend it all in one place: FORTUNE’s Term Sheet

I am hyper-impressed by Polina Marinova who helms the Term Sheet from Fortune Magazine. The daily Term Sheet includes a brief exploration of a timely topic in finance or venture capital, and Marinova often crowdsources reactions from her readership on certain events (like impending IPOs), and for finance-adjacent suggestions (like nominations for the best “business documentaries”). I like tuning in for the sake of my long-term savings and investment strategies. Most appreciated, it’s digestible without being too watered down or too jargoned up.

11. The one with a helping of coconut macaroons and a tablespoon of Mitch McConnell: Disaster Baking

Brought to you by the same Mattie Kahn who once wrote a delicious essay entitled “Slouching Towards Bolognese” for Cherry Bombe and all those Girls recaps you once cherished, this newsletter staves off the apocalypse by way of baking. Kahn attempts to take a break from political reporting by tweaking published recipes for delicacies like potato focaccia and black and white cookies. Just reading about her take on Ottolenghi’s chocolate babka, which she prefers “to taste like a pain au chocolat has entered into a committed relationship with a challah; no distractions,” hit the spot.

12. The one that knows you can’t have an email pioneer without pie: Ann Friedman Weekly

The Ann Friedman Weekly is practically an institution in the scheme of wildly popular newsletters (she wrote Tinyletters when they were, in fact, tiny). Chances are you already know it, but it’s a natural extension of her journalism and podcasts (Call Your Girlfriend with co-host Aminatou Sow, and Going Through It), with pie chartist-ry. Friedman deems it “pay-to-pie”: you’ll get an iconic AFW pie chart each week with a paid membership, at the price of one oat milk latte ($5) per year.

13. The one that un-glues you from MSNBC: NextDraft

Full disclosure, this newsletter is by my significant other’s uncle, though I would still subscribe even if it weren’t. Dave Pell reads all of the news of the day (resulting in a masochistic number of Mozilla Firefox tabs), then winnows it down to the 10 line items that demand the most attention. To me, NextDraft stands out from the other current roundups in the way it doesn’t condescend to the reader. And, keeping the #13 spot in the family here, I am also a subscriber of The What, co-written by Gina Pell, which is served like a “cocktail for your inbox.” It’s an honor to be in the midst of a newsletter dynasty.

14. The one where patience is a virtue: Wait—

Straight from the Styles desk at the NYTimes to yours: Wait— was originally billed as a Caity Weaver joint, but let me tell you, it’s a delight and not at all downgrade to have Choire Sicha pop up like a whack-a-mole in your inbox every week, usually reminding you that you’re going to die in one way or another.

For the Inbox That’s a Real Mixed Bag

15. The one that loves a theme: Quartzy

The Quartzy editors bat around ideas that take you out of your own head and examine the way you organize your day from a cool distance. The theme is always unpredictable (e.g., making the case for listening to heavy metal at work) and the newsletter itself feels a bit like a self-improvement guru, working pro bono, who only requires 10 minutes of your week.

16. The one that smells like chamomile: fermentation & formation by Jenna Wortham

Jenna Wortham, of “Still Processing” fame, sends out periodic newsletters that read like brief horoscopes with ingredient lists. They wash over me in the same way that my favorite internet franchise of all time, The (late, great) Awl’s Weather Reviews, once did.

17. The one that’s command central for lifehackery: Recomendo

“Brief reviews of cool stuff” is what we’re working with here. Since subscribing, I’ve adopted their recomendo-ed practice of making iced matchas and cappuccinos with the Nespresso Aeroccino, along with the travel hack of loading leftover foreign currency onto a Starbucks gift card for future use. Recomendo’s archive has culminated in a book—should I buy it?

18. The one that makes the case for the internet not (always) being a terrible place: Laura Olin & Cup of Ambition

Laura Olin compiles “some lovely and/or meaningful things” each week that get your fingers clicking and clacking like crustacean claws, along with a separate newsletter called “Cup of Ambition,” where she culls “meaningful jobs and opportunities in advocacy, media, and tech.”

19. The one that’s a mass transit palette cleanser for moms and non-moms alike: Of A Kind’s 10 Things

This listicle cuts the monotony of a subway ride like a splash of seltzer. I usually click on two or three of the suggestions (like swimsuits made from repurposed fishing nets or a program for recycling contact lenses), but I am always won over by their Spinal Tap reference when they have an extra pick and “turn it up to 11!”

20. The one that’s fresh out of the oven at Zabar’s: West Side Rag

I don’t even live on the Upper West Side. I never have, and who’s to say if I ever will. Still worth it.

Graphic by Madeline Montoya.

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This Fragrance Smells Like Hairspray (That’s a Good Thing)

After years as a beauty editor, I’ve developed what I call New Product Fatigue. These days, when I try and like something, chances are I will commit to buying it again and again until someone (somehow) manages to convince me to do something else. I’ve used the same mascara (Maybelline Lash Sensational), CC cream (Clinique Moisture Surge), and brow product (Benefit Brow Zing) every day for about three years. As for my hair: Since I discovered Jen Atkin’s Ouai in December 2017, I haven’t used anything else.

Ouai’s texturizing hair spray is—and I cannot stress this enough—my all-time favorite hair product. It’s a hairspray and dry shampoo hybrid that adds a perfectly effortless touch to my otherwise limp and always-too-silky hair. But what I love most about the spray is the smell. Oh, the smell. Like Ouai’s dry shampoo foam and leave-in conditioner, both of which I also adore and use regularly, it’s a delight to my scalp and nostrils.

Until this week, I would have found it hard to describe exactly what Ouai products smell like—they’re soft without being overwhelmingly musky, and fresh without any hint of sterile citrus—but now, I have my answer. An exact scent recipe. Joy in a bottle.

Ouai’s two fragrances, North Bondi and Melrose Place, were first released in 2017. They sold out in a week. In 2018, they sold out in a few days. In 2019 (today to be exact) they’re re-releasing the scents and hoo boy am I excited, because North Bondi smells exactly like my favorite Ouai hair products.

North Bondi is technically a “fresh floral” fragrance with jasmine, violet, and a super delicate touch of rose, but it’s more interesting than your standard flowery scent. Since getting it, I’ve realized what I’ve long loved about the Ouai smell is the undertones of patchouli and sandalwood, which play into my love for natural woody fragrances. The top notes, which you first smell when you spray, are lighter and fruitier with Italian lemon and apple blossom. Basically, it’s the perfect blend.

As someone who’s lived in Sydney’s North Bondi, in an apartment I regularly wonder why I ever left, I wouldn’t say the fragrance smells exactly like the place, but I get what they’re going for. When I smell it I think of walking from a café back to my apartment with a fresh juice, passing a waft of incense dancing out of an open window.

To me, there’s no better compliment than, “Your hair smells so good.” Now that I can smell like my hair and my old home, and all is right in the world.

Now, a List of Other Things That Need to Be Made Into Perfume

Freshly chopped ginger

The top of my niece’s head

Mojitos with extra muddled mint

The lilac tree in my nan’s backyard

This Neutrogena sunscreen

Cracking beach bonfires

Fresh-out-of-the-box Apple products

Sticky eucalyptus leaves

Burned out matches

Christmas morning

What other amazing-smelling things do you wish were made into fragrance? Do you have a beauty product you use just for the smell?

Feature photo courtesy of Ouai. 

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3 Older Women on How Vanity Changes With Age

S

ome days I can’t tell if I’m conceited or insecure. This thought passes through me on a Saturday afternoon. My partner and I are sitting at an outdoor cafe on Grove street, people-watching in shared silence. It’s June and, as the clock strikes 6 p.m., the cobblestones catch the sunlight and, for a split second, the city sits still. I, however, do not. I fiddle with the neckline of my sweater, cursing myself for picking weather-inappropriate attire. I’m distracted by my bleached-blonde hair, weeks away from a touch-up, gathering at my shoulders like a bale of hay. I run my fingers through the ends and cringe.

I divert my attention, fixating instead on a woman reading at a neighboring table. French, I think. Mid-twenties. Her hair is tousled, but knotty. She probably cut it herself with her kitchen scissors. She is aggressively natural, and yet I struggle to believe that such beauty can simply occur, all on its own. How hard would I have to try to look that effortless? She puts down her book and heads to the restroom. Curious, I lean over to peek at its title. Influencer, it reads. Building Your Personal Brand in the Age Of Social Media. She returns to her seat and we lock eyes momentarily. Upon second glance, we look more alike than I realized.

I’ve come to accept my vanity as part of me. On some days, like when I spend the better part of golden hour analyzing a French girl’s ponytail, I’ll admit it takes the wheel. But there’s so much more that drives me, like empathy, ambition, compassion. Can I actively choose to let those guide me instead? In search of answers, I spoke to three older women—Joan, Jamie, and Geri—about their outlooks on appearance, beauty, and aging. Each of their perspectives reminded me that the qualities of one’s personhood are not mutually exclusive, and they all make us who we are.

Joan, 87, lives in a retirement community in New Jersey, and has never once cared about her appearance.

On Growing Up and Settling Down

I was born on May 22, 1932, in the Bronx. My grandmother was Native American, going back many years. She had dark skin and high cheekbones. She had so much grace. The day she passed, my husband Joe just knew. I never called, but he knew.

I had five sisters and three brothers. We used to play stickball by cutting a broom in half. Nobody bothered us, we all got along. Then World War II came and all my brothers left home. They got back safe, but my brother Edmond was held prisoner for a year. His plane was shot down. I used to pray for him every time I came home from school. Every day I’d think, Who are we going to pray for today?

I met Joe at a wedding. And after we’d been going out for over a year, he said, “I think I’d like for us to get engaged.” But at the time I didn’t think we were serious, so I said, “Uh, I don’t know yet.” He waited until I was ready, then we went to an Italian couple who were jewelers and picked out the stone. We planned our wedding for over a year. I picked the date—May 22.

Joe decided to work for the city of New York—the sanitation department. He was an engineer, so there was no reason for me to work. We had two kids, and they were going to school. We knew the people next door and had a block party every once in a while.As we got older, though, I thought we ought to make a move. That’s when I heard about New Jersey, 28 years ago. So we had a nice house there, with a big garage and kitchen. Everyone was friendly. But after a while it became too much too. So, we moved to this retirement community. We’ve been here four years now.

On Vanity

I never thought about my appearance when I was younger. I wore very little makeup. When I got married, my family forced me to wear makeup. My sister was my maid of honor and she had to hold me down because I didn’t want to put eyeshadow on. I couldn’t stand it, I wanted to take it off right there and then. I’ll wear lipstick now, but that’s it—nothing on my eyes. I wouldn’t know what to do with it! I have to wear sunscreen because I’m fair, but I never thought about my skin. I didn’t really care for fashion, either. I like comfortable clothes. Heels, sure—but not high ones. I’m afraid I’d fall over.

I don’t waste time worrying about my wrinkles. I just think, “Well, thank God I’m still here.”

There’s a group of 10 of us New Yorkers, and we’ll have parties. We sit at a table and talk about this or that, and I’ll get dressed up. I’ll put on a pair of dressy flats that are comfortable. I’ll wear a nice blouse, a pair of slacks. I have outfits that match together. I have these white slacks, but I’m afraid to wear them when I’m drinking, because all you need is a glass of wine on your white slacks! I also have a watch that I’ve had a long time. My husband gave it to me as a surprise, I didn’t even have to ask for it. No diamonds—I’m not a diamonds person. I have a son and grandson who are jewelers, but I’m not a jewelry person. I’ll wear it when something special is going on. People will say, “Gee Joan, you never wore that before.”

I don’t waste time worrying about my wrinkles. I just think, “Well, thank God I’m still here.” I know my personality is the same. I was never really vain, but I had a sister or two that was like that. My Joe isn’t like that, either. He was a professional clown. He used to dress up and go to hospitals. We don’t take ourselves too seriously. We just like to make people laugh.

I am always happy with what I have. I make the best of every situation. I didn’t spend a lot of time over the years thinking about my appearance because I was thinking about my children. I believe it’s not about looks—it’s personality, the way you feel, how you treat people. You’ve got to be a happy person.

And I have my Joe. 65 years, I’m married! He still tells me I’m beautiful.

Geri, 61, is a brand consultant and creative living in Philadelphia, and has always cared about her appearance.

On Finding Her Place

I grew up in Baltimore. I never felt it fit me, so at 18, I left for school and never came back. I wanted to find where I was supposed to be.

When I moved to New York, it awakened something in me. Everybody is outwardly exhibiting part of themselves there—the way they dress, how they carry themselves. It’s a city that’s aware of more than just the internal. I’ve always had a sense of my surroundings. The first thing I notice about people is the way they orchestrate themselves—not just what they say and do, but what choices they make, from haircut to makeup. That always gives me an idea of who they are. It’s a cheatsheet. Now, that’s not true with everybody. But your outside persona can reflect your inside persona. If you let it.

I met my husband and we stayed in New York for five years, then moved to Chicago. We had lost two babies, and it was traumatizing. It was the most depressed and awful you could ever feel and there was nothing that could make it better. But I believed it was out of my hands. No matter how painful, it was part of life’s journey, like the Game Of Life. I learned to negotiate the curves, to get that zest for life back. We later had a miracle baby, a daughter. Out of the darkness came the most brilliant light. In the midst of that sorrow, I couldn’t imagine being uplifted. But that’s human connection; it surprises and awes you.

We were really happy in Chicago. The midwest is a whole different vibe, you know? We learned a lot about ourselves. New York was like a litmus test. It was the summer of crack, and it was beginning to be too much, so we welcomed the change. We left Chicago 12 years later, which was the hardest thing ever. But life changed and it was time to roll with it…

We wound up in Atlanta. Very different, but we found our people. I became a community woman, I grew through understanding people. I made it my business to know everyone. I worked on a lot of independent projects—political campaigns, brand consulting. I’ve always had a marketing mind. It’s the way my brain operates, and it awakened my artistic side. None of it was really deliberate, but more of an evolution. My generation, we wanted it all. The world was at our fingertips. I just had to figure out where I fit.

On Being Superficial

Visually, I’ve always been into the superficial. I love looking at striking things. I’m taken by beauty. I think humans are a form of performance art. I’ve always worn myself on the outside. People can recognize the kind of person I am by looking at me. I’ll pass people that I don’t know and get a smile. If I dress like a black cloud, you know I’m in a deep, dark place.

There are days I’ll tell myself I don’t care about my appearance, but I obviously do.

I’ve always had some sense of self. When I think back to a certain age, I’ll remember wearing something that half my family hated, but I saw the romance in. Shopping for school clothes became a way of expressing myself. It was my super power. I figured that out early on. I do think I have a lot of vanity. I’m orchestrated, but I’m laissez-faire. The way my jeans are rolled up at the bottom is laissez-faire. I try to add a touch of comic or whimsy. I want to offset expectations. It’s feng shui. I love the abstract, and I can see art in things that other people can’t always see.

There are days I’ll tell myself I don’t care about my appearance, but I obviously do. I’ll go into that closet and throw something on—it might be what I wore yesterday, but I’m editing as I walk through the door. Whatever I look like in that bedroom is something totally different by the time I leave. The oddest, craziest, quirkiest, most wonderful thing I can think of—because it’s mood. It’s expression. It’s my subconscious, guiding me. I’m not cognizant once I’ve done it. In fact, I may not look at myself in the mirror for the rest of the day!

On Style

Timeless style is anything that looks good on you, style that you’re in control of. It’s all about how you wear it. You could find the most magnificent piece in the world, but if it doesn’t complement you, the piece becomes the vehicle. It overshadows you. No, it has to be something you love. It’s not what’s in or fashion-forward. It speaks to you.

The other day, I was on a street corner waiting for the light to change, and I got stopped by this young guy. He turns to me and says, “You’re cool, I like what you’ve got going on.” I don’t even remember what I had on! I took it as a huge compliment, because he was a millennial. He added, “I like when people show who they are. I can tell you have a little something whimsical in you.” And I did. It’s fun to look at the world through a whimsical lens, because it can be so serious.

You’ve got to own your destiny—how you see, celebrate, and love yourself. If you don’t do that first and foremost, you’ll never get it from anybody else. The gratification comes from self-acceptance. That’s where the struggle is, for all of us. We all want to be part of something greater, but first comes self-understanding, part of which is embracing your vanity. What’s wrong with enjoying the visual? Vanity is part of what keeps us alive—understanding that you have something of value within yourself. Isn’t that what keeps you in the game?

Jamie, 72, owns a nail salon on the Upper East Side, and has started caring more about her appearance.

On Moving to New York

I immigrated from Korea in 1987. I have two kids and wanted to work to support them, but Korea is a very small country and it was difficult to get a job. My husband and I were well-educated, so he suggested we move to America to chase bigger opportunities. I’ve been in New York for almost 30 years now.

Back in Korea, I worked for a bank. But when I came here, I was told that my education was too different and my language was a problem, so I had to switch industries. I looked into the opportunities that were available to me, and finally found work at a hair salon. I noticed that one of the ladies who worked there also gave manicures, and she had a lot of loyal customers. I thought, “Hm, maybe I can do that!”

After working at the salon for a while, I craved independence and decided to open my own business. I would walk around, looking for open storefronts. I noticed uptown was hipper and the people lived well. I liked the neighborhood, so I found an empty space and rented it. Within a year, I opened my own nail salon. At the beginning, my rent was $2,800, and it stayed like that for 10 years. Now I’m in my 23rd year and the lease is changing. I’m paying, like, $12,000 in rent. It’s very difficult to keep my doors open.

All business is challenging, especially in the first year. But I created a loyal customer base. Within months I had 100 regular customers I had individual relationships with. I really enjoy what I do because I love people. I learn so much from my customers. Korean and American culture are totally different, so they’ve taught me a lot about lifestyle. In Korea, we learned things like one plus one is two, but here, people learn how to keep an open mind. I have a really diverse client list, and everyone has something to teach me.

On Beauty

My hobby has always been painting, especially watercolor. Anything that uses brushes, I enjoy. That’s actually how I got into the beauty and nail industry. The two are not too different. When I saw how happy people were getting their nails painted, I knew I could make them happy too. I love making people feel beautiful.

I enjoy making things around me pretty—spaces, people, my customers. Growing up in Korea, people didn’t really worry too much about how things looked because they needed to make a living. But so much has changed since I left. Now the economy is better and more people can afford to cherish beauty like I do.

I care much more about my appearance now than when I was younger. I have a lot of young customers, and I want to look younger, to appeal to them. But to be honest, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that it doesn’t matter—old or young, everybody wants to look and feel pretty. Even my oldest customers, they come once a week for a manicure. When I first opened, my core base of customers were in their 60s, and now, they’re all in their 80s. But they still come once a week to get their nails done and feel cared for. Beauty is about maintaining a routine. As you get older, that becomes even more important.

There’s a difference between vanity and confidence. You have to feel confident, that’s the key to beauty.

When it comes to style, I like the classic stuff. I avoid anything that looks like imitation—I prefer one-of-a-kind. A real piece of jewelry! That’s what ages best—something that always looks good. The same goes with makeup: When I like something, I’m unlikely to change it. I like Estée Lauder and Bobbi Brow—it isn’t too expensive, but I don’t go for the cheap stuff either. Something that will last me a long, long time. That’s all I care about.

There’s a difference between vanity and confidence. You have to feel confident, that’s the key to beauty. Not just in the way you look, but in the way you carry yourself. You don’t need to spend all your money, but do invest in yourself. Find something you like and stick to it. A lot of young people have nervous habits—they’ll pick their skin or their cuticles. I tell them, “If you want to feel beautiful, start by listening to yourself.” Only by feeling better can you achieve true beauty. Everyone is so stressed out all the time! Living in this city is not easy.

I have a few customers who are obsessed with their appearance, but I think they’re just in a bad place, mentally. I can’t tell them what to do—they have to figure out what matters to them on their own. But I have a daughter in her 30s and she’s very confident, and therefore, very beautiful. I learn more from her than she does from me. She’s a modern American woman.

Perhaps I’ve grown wiser with age as well, but learning is forever. For as long as I’m alive, I’m willing to learn.

Photos by . 

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Ask MR: I Feel Undesirable. What Do I Do?

Hello and welcome to our advice column, Ask MR, where we answer your burning questions, hoping we’ll become the ointment to your life rash. Ask us a question by sending one of us a DM, emailing write@manrepeller.com with the subject line “ASK MR A QUESTION,” or simply leaving one in the comments.

“How do I get over a crush? I went out with a pretty girl about a month ago and, afterward, she told me it wasn’t a good time for her to pursue a relationship. I keep thinking about her even though we haven’t talked in over a month. It’s so rare for me to find a girl who likes me, even seemingly in comparison to other lesbians. I can’t help but feel self-conscious about this. It’s never taken me this long to get over someone. I’m lonely and feel undesirable quite often. What should I do? Nothing? Something?”

Hi!

Who says you have to “get over” a crush? In most cases, crushes are healthy and adorable—and can actually be an informative aspect of the journey to finding your person. And also finding yourself: What do your crushes have in common? Are all of your crushes dog people, or from the South, or incredibly hardworking, or partial to clipping their toenails in the shower? Crushes are like a Build-a-Bear Workshop for figuring out what moves you!

That said, liking someone and starting to experience that fun little flitter in your belly, only to be told that they’re not feeling the same way, really fucking sucks. Especially for those of us in the queer community who have a fear of never finding a longterm partner. I think the heartbreak you’re feeling is a super natural and rational response to that—I’ve felt it myself.

As queer folks, we’ve been conditioned to think we won’t have a chance at getting all of the things that straight people get: love, marriage, kids, the house, etc. And part of that perception is a simple matter of access. I always felt like my chances of finding someone were a fraction of my straight friends’, who could seemingly walk up to anyone. But even if our community is smaller, I can tell you that you have just as much of a chance at love, the kids, the house—if you want those things—as anyone else.

When you focus only on what you can’t offer other people, your sense of self-worth hinges on your ability to change who you are.

I know how much rejection hurts, and I know it can feel like the chance may not come again or that there’s something inherently wrong with you. But I’m here to tell you that you are worthy and deserving of reciprocal love of all kinds. I don’t know you and I can say that with 100% certainty. Mostly because I still have to remind myself of the same thing fairly often—and its by that reminding that I’ve become far more capable of self-love and self-respect than I have been in the past.

So let’s dig in: What about this person had you crushing so hard? What were the qualities in her that you liked the most? Write those things down and start to figure out what you’re looking for in an ideal mate. Having that knowledge can be really helpful and allow you to create healthy non-negotiables and boundaries for potential partners in the future.

I noticed that you said this particular crush was difficult for you to get over—not because you rarely find a girl that you click with but because you rarely find a girl that likes you. I want you to consider changing this narrative. When you focus only on what you can’t offer other people, your sense of self-worth hinges on your ability to change who you are. But when you choose to focus on what you want to bring to others, trust me when I say your world will open up!

This was ultimately how I became happy on my own—by fully experiencing truths that I had kept in a lock box for so long.

I was in a nine-year relationship prior to meeting my current partner. When we broke up, I was devastated. I resigned to being alone for the rest of my life; I was certain that if the one person in this world who I loved and had spent such a long time with didn’t want to be with me, then no one else would. But as soon as I stopped looking outward and started looking inside of my damn self, that story started to change. It wasn’t easy, but I knew that if I was going to be better for myself and possibly other people, I had to intimately understand the mechanics of my inner life and emotions.

I had to sit with myself (more often than I wanted, tbh) and really dig into the how’s and why’s of what makes me feel like the best version of myself. And the more I dug in, the more I was able to quiet my mind and see myself. I started dating me and hanging out with me. I thought about the ways I could have been a better partner in my last relationship and also thought about how I sacrificed some of my desires because I thought I had to in order to maintain the relationship. The whole process was terrible and great and perfect and something I probably should have done much sooner.

In the end, understanding those things made me realize that I could still be me in a partnership. That my whole world wasn’t wrapped up in the happiness of another person and that perhaps it’s okay to still want to maintain a real sense of “me-ness” in my next relationship and frankly in all of my relationships! This was ultimately how I became happy on my own—by fully experiencing truths that I had kept in a lock box for so long. So when I met my current partner, I was a better me for her because I was the best me for me.

So I say all of that to say this (and I know that you might think it’s hokey): Focus on you, find the things that you love about you and I swear to sweet gay Jesus, you will attract the kind of partner that enjoys all of the weird wonders that you have to offer to this world. But also remember that this isn’t about going on a journey simply to attract a partner. This is about you. Loving and accepting you for all that you are should always be the peak that you’re hiking toward. Yes, along that hike, you might find a fellow hiker who has cute boots and makes you laugh when the walk gets hot and hard and not so much fun, but honestly, that cute booted hiker might just as easily be you.

Ask MR Identity by Madeline Montoya.

The post Ask MR: I Feel Undesirable. What Do I Do? appeared first on Man Repeller.

The Need Supply Sale Is Full of Really Good Summer Outfit Ideas

One time a stranger on Instagram called me a “summer gal,” and even though it was completely out of context and I had no idea what she was talking about, I also knew exactly what she was talking about. I am a summer gal. I love aperol spritzes, un-ironically. I have literal pep in my step after a 20-minute encounter with Vitamin D. I’ve been known to tell people (most recently my boyfriend) that I actually find the smell of their sweaty armpits comforting. I love getting dressed when it’s hot out. Love! Which happens to be the true purpose of this digital gathering, because there’s a sale happening on Need Supply at the moment so chock-full of hot-weather outfit possibilities it’s pure lunacy. I’ve delineated three of them below to whet your armpits I mean palette, so go forth and scroll, my sweet sweaty salamanders.

Outfit Possibility #1: For the Office

I already own this shirt from Ciao Lucia but I’m putting it here for our mutual benefit, because you may want to buy it (on sale!) and I most definitely want to style it (on myself!), specifically with these Dries van Noten pants that are actually sweats but may or may not think they’re trousers. Can you believe the discount on these gems? Dries van Noten pants! For $115! A veritable steal, and not only because of the price but also because they fulfill the menocore-inspired workplace outfit of my dreams, made up of white hero pieces and mustard yellow accents. I’ll be wearing these in my ears, please and thank you, these on my commute, and this around my head. As for my feets? They will be right where they’ve always belonged, inside a pair of strappy linen sandals from Rachael Comey, on sale for $188. Office AC on full blast? Shrug on this quilted dreamboat of a jacket, which is $72 but looks like Céline.

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Outfit Possibility #2: For a Party

Pardonnez-moi, but THIS might be the crowning achievement of Summer 2019’s going-out top circuit. One-shouldered? Check. Margarita green? Check. Semi-sheer? Check? Subtly textured? Check. 100% cotton? Check. On sale? Check. That’s a whole lot of checks!!!!! And it would look sooooo great with this leopard skirt, which looks just as comfy as it does chic enough to earn the approval of Franck in Father of the Bride, I just have a feeling. I would personally wear both with these blue leather sandals, which at $75 hold some particular appeal. Throw in some silver earrings that caress the insides of your ears like a sweet birthday baby, and you’ll have yourself an outfit fit for rooftop celebrations and barbecue shindigs and Jeff-Goldblum-in-a-Hawaiian-shirt theme parties alike.

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Outfit Possibility #3: For the Beach

In my summer self fantasies, I am the kind of person who acquires and religiously wears the perfect black one-piece swimsuit, replete with thin straps and a slightly sloped square neckline, ideally somewhere devoid of cell service in Italy. The fact that this precise specimen is currently on sale on Need Supply seems fated to the degree that it requires a fantasy beach ensemble to go with it, and thus I submit this dress for consideration. It looks simple but in fact dips low in the back, thus retaining an element of surprise and delight. It would make for a great seaside coverup while easily transitioning to a casual dinner setting. It’s also–and here’s the really fun part–$82! Sling some barely-there sandals over your shoulder, plus a few slices of prosciutto, and you’re as stunning as a golden-hour sunset.

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What are you eyeing from the sale(s), this one or otherwise? Will you come to my Jeff Goldblum Hawaiian shirt party if I have one? Feel free to chime in on any of these pressing Qs below.

Feature photo via Need Supply Co.

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Is the Bachelor Universe Slouching Towards Sex-Positivity?

Monday night’s The Bachelorette episode can be broken down into four parts: softcore porn, regular porn, “I don’t know what she sees in Jed,” and Bible study (referring to Peter, Tyler, Jed, and Luke’s dates, respectively). And while we all watched, wide-eyed, when Peter the pilot stumbled through his “I love you” speech and salivated while Tyler, in all his shirtless glory, massaged and then climbed on top of Hannah Brown, the episode really began on the fourth and final date in Crete, Greece.

Luke Parker was always going to be this season’s villain. He lacks even one iota of self-awareness and told Hannah he was falling in love on the first group date—a classic villain move. He was the least popular housemate within two episodes and became relentlessly chastised when his prideful demeanor began to interfere with cocktail parties and group dates, effectively taking time away from the other men. Less expected, however, were the positive strides the franchise would be able to make at Luke’s expense.

In the seventh episode of the season, the negative feelings floating around Luke, not only among other contestants but also on Twitter, crystallized and turned to a sharp and pointed hatred. Luke had been widely disliked, but when he slut-shamed Hannah after a date that involved naked bungee-jumping, the distaste in America’s mouth suddenly turned to poison. Simultaneously, Hannah’s sex-positivity was the much-needed antidote.

Luke, on the other hand, was this season’s villain far before his regressive views on intimacy were exposed.

There have been sex-positive Bachelorettes and Bachelor contestants in the past. Their narratives, however, have consistently been spun into webs of shameful apologies and disappointed men, which force them to deem their actions “mistakes” on camera (sentiments they often later dispute). Consider when Clare Crawley infamously had sex with Bachelor Juan Pablo in the ocean. The following day, Juan Pablo told her that he felt “weird,” citing his daughter and lifting any blame from his own shoulders while in turn humiliating Clare. When Bachelorette Kaitlin Bristowe had sex with Nick Viall before the Fantasy Suite (at which point sex is producer-sanctioned), she decided to be honest with another frontrunner, Shawn Boothe. During the confession scene, however, she uncharacteristically stumbles over her words, stating that things “had gone too far.” “Do you regret it?” he asks, to which she replies: “I felt guilt.”

In both of these scenarios, the men questioning these women were generally well-regarded. Juan Pablo, of course, was later revealed to be something of a scumbag, but producers were obviously pushing for his likability at the time. Luke, on the other hand, was this season’s villain far before his regressive views on intimacy were exposed. So when he began berating Hannah for exploring her own sexual agency—for the naked bungee and later for sleeping with other contestants—his sex-negative views were quickly, easily, and rightfully villainized.

When we reach the breakup scene in the most recent episode, the audience feels emotionally atrophied by Luke’s constant gaslighting. By all the times he made a point that Hannah disputed, only to reply that she simply misunderstood. Or the times he told the men in the house that he wouldn’t discuss them with Hannah, only to turn around and bring each housemate up by name. Or the time he told her she made “a bone-headed mistake,” but added that he loved her despite her flaws, employing classic emotionally abusive and manipulative behavior. The list goes on. And so in the final moments of episode 10, we are primed for Hannah’s epic speech. If Luke had been more self-aware and delivered his views (which are commonly held within the Evangelical community) in a gentler manner, we may not have come to this point. If the most compelling storyline hadn’t been Luke vs. America, we may not have come to this point. Everything has lined up for feminism to shine a bright, albeit brief, beacon of hope for future seasons.

Hannah ends the conversation with a mic-drop, telling Luke that she “fucked in a windmill” this week as she pushes him into a limo and out of her life.

After a glorious day of smooching and discussing Jesus, the couple makes it to the dinner portion of the date, where Luke launches the hollow threat that he will remove himself from the competition if Hannah has had sex with other contestants (which she has). Understandably, she gets angry. Luke, in classic Luke fashion, backtracks and says he’s “willing to work through it” if she’s slipped up. Hannah calls bullshit on his flip-flopping and double standard.

“You’re holding other people to a standard that you don’t even live by,” she says, noting that pride is as much a sin as sex. Finally, the words we’ve heard in previews and trailers for the past five weeks come out of our televisions: “I do not want you to be my husband.” And with that, all of America breathes a sigh of relief. Hannah ends the conversation with a mic-drop, telling Luke that she “fucked in a windmill” this week as she pushes him into a limo and out of her life.

And herein lies the silver lining of all this toxic masculinity. The casting process has failed us in the past, with assault convicts and racists and too much whiteness. Many agreed that Luke was another symptom of the process. But without him we would never have bore witness to this pageant queen, at once celebrating her faith and her sexuality, and condemning anyone who got in her way. I imagine, for many a Bachelor fan, Hannah’s entire speech felt much like America’s recent World Cup win—a single, victorious moment for women that could very likely change the course of history. Or at least cable TV.

Photo via ABC. 

The post Is the Bachelor Universe Slouching Towards Sex-Positivity? appeared first on Man Repeller.

What’s FaceApp Really Getting At?

I should have known FaceApp would blow up this week when our social media editor, Amalie, dropped a photo of herself looking a purported 50 years her senior into a slack channel within Man Repeller’s workspace on Monday morning. It was as if every one of us had risen from the dead (a summer weekend) to run our own selfies through the facial augmentation app. I was pretty horrified at my attempt at future self-actualizaion and further horrified by my horrification because when I ran Abie’s face through the app, he looked adorable. Just great. It was like watching a divine and sincere young man become a divine and sincere grandpa. Where my wrinkles seemed to tell of a weathered woman’s wrestle with life, his looked like a yarn ball presenting deeper indentations of wisdom with each unraveling layer of string. What made him so cute and me so grotesque? What does this to men vs. women in the context of aging more generally?

It’s almost too easy to argue that the messaging points doled out by popular culture and public discourse have enforced an inherent fear among women to, after a certain age, look their age, whereas no such model really exists on the male front (though they do deal with this kind of shit too, just in other areas like muscular strength or self-imposed pressure to succeed financially; I am less versed in the language of their fight).

But in my view, little is achieved by pointing fingers or placing the onus on the sum of society, particularly without adopting some of the blame yourself, so I’m not gonna go there. I didn’t plan to. Why I was horrified, really, is because here I’ve been on this high horse for weeks shouting from the rooftops in the way of mirror selfies about all this new confidence and compassion (sorry, I mean cOmPaShUn) that I have earned for myself and then, boom — an effective rebranding of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray in the privacy of my mobile browser.

I loved his picture because I love him. Duh. Unconditionally and irreversibly. I hated my picture because I’m hard as fuck on myself. I assumed that I was looking at current me, but in the future, and looking at that meant that I stayed current me — that I just let time pass with my ears and eyes and heart shut. But if I hated a future me that stayed current me, did that mean I hate current me? That I don’t love *~me~* unconditionally and irreversibly? Do I even have another option? And what about the newfangled confidence! The cOmPaShUn! It didn’t sound completely right, so I lifted the lid on this supposition and asked: Would it really be that bad if I did, in fact, stay current me?

The answer wasn’t like Hell yes, you’re a devil woman. Phewph. It was more like, Overall, it would be unfortunate because it means you’re not responding to the way the world around you is changing and therefore the critical way in which your capacity to absorb and handle that could improve in accordance, which indicated this difference between resentment of the self, a strain of malignant vanity that closes the door on the potentiality of building a good rapport with yourself and some healthy, critical questioning — a recipe to foster abundant thinking — that’s mostly possible after you’ve arrived at self-acceptance.

Sometimes I wonder if the reason so many of us are afraid to age is because we think that if we pay to look younger, what we’re actually buying is more time. More time for what? I don’t know. To make up for the ways in which we could be better? To freeze the state of “current me”  so as to continue avoiding the often gruesome process of confronting ourselves and asking the hardest but single most important question of self-development — Do I like myself? And further — If I don’t, what’s it gonna take to make me like myself?

Holy shit, I just realized something. I have been thinking that I am pretty sure I want to start botox injections in my forehead. Is that because the wrinkles remind me that I’m irresponsible when I sit in the sun and that I don’t pragmatically evaluate the order of consequences when I am asked if I would like another drink?

???

!!!!????!!????

I will probably still do it. Get the botox and make irresponsible skincare and unpragmatic beverage consumption decisions. Both tendencies are representative of much greater, self-identified shortcomings that don’t have to be so damn deep-seated. I’m not that irresponsible, and I’m pretty pragmatic overall, so I’d rather not nurture this realization too much, and give myself some leeway to yolo. Remember how popular this acronym used to be? Yolo. I don’t remember how we got here, but now that we’ve reached the end, I want you to know that I ran Justin Bieber through FaceApp, too. He makes for a beautiful senior. I wonder what he will have learned.

Photos provided by Leandra Medine. 

The post What’s FaceApp Really Getting At? appeared first on Man Repeller.

Your Summer Fling, According to the Zodiac

Summer is for falling in love. It’s the adult equivalent of “school’s out!” even if your workload is exactly the same and your bosses don’t recognize the sanctity of Summer Fridays. It’s the season of vacations, colorful outfits, ripe stone fruits, showing more skin, and embracing an overall lightness of being. Such are optimal conditions for romance to bloom. To celebrate, I’ve matched up every sign of the zodiac with their fling for Summer 19. The summertime wave of infatuation may hit you in surprising ways—so prepare to be changed, even if it doesn’t last past Labor Day weekend.

Aries

You rams have a (well-earned!) reputation for being blunt and aggressive, which is why your romantic side is not as widely known. But actually, you have a tendency to be hyper-romantic and go hot and heavy right away with a newfound partner, and this summer is all about sparks that blow up into a full conflagration. Whether it lasts—that’s a bit dicier. But you love nothing more than to seize a high-drama moment when the opportunity presents itself, and you’re very keen on spotting those opportunities.

Taurus

You bulls love a powerful monarch (game recognizes game), and you may find yourself attracted to your boss or someone in with more status than you this summer. The good news is, you’re usually an expert at navigating these situations, being charming, unflappable (even if you’re fluttering inside!), and functional in a hierarchical dynamic. The less-than-good news is that, well, work is not the ideal context for developing butterfly feelings. You might be tempted to take fewer vacation days because it’s hotter in the office than it is on the beach. But take your time off; you’ll need that time to help you keep a cool head.

Gemini

Boundaries are not your superpower, Gemini. You’re great at letting information out and less practiced about keeping up a firewall. Which is why your fling won’t be sexual necessarily (unless boundaries are your kink? Not here to shame), but it will be helpful: This summer you’ll fall in love with thinking before you speak, and it will save you from having to negotiate weird levels of intimacy with people you don’t really know or trust yet. When you make the space to discern who really belongs in your life and at what level of closeness, you end up honoring your own heart, Gemini. It’s really your own emotional safety and well-being that has you smitten this summer, and it sounds like a downright keeper.

Cancer

To a crabby little water sign like Cancer, the beach is home. The serenity of the waves upon the sand is unmatched by any meditation exercise, and Cancers have some of the most hyperactive fear responses in the zodiac. That’s why you’re always so prepared with all manner of wet wipes, nail clippers or extra gummy vitamins—you’re always afraid you’ll forget something. So this summer, your heart and soul may belong to a place that allows you to unburden yourself (temporarily) from all of life’s stressors and hide away under an umbrella with a streak of zinc on your nose and a good book cracked open. This kind of love can last a lifetime.

Leo

Leos are famous for loving themselves, and this summer you may become enamored with someone who is a lot like you. The opposites-attract model of dating is simply one way to do things, and you’d rather leave the charming miscommunications for rom-coms. Instead, you’re all about twinning a little with your crush, whether you share a name, a zodiac sign, or the same preference for trains over cars. Some of the greatest celebrity pairings of our time dressed alike, and whether or not their love lasted, the aesthetic lives on. It’s one thing to be dating your best friend (yawn), but it’s totally next level to date your doppelganger.

Virgo

Aw, Virgo, your partner is your summer fling! Whether you’ve been dating for a month or closing in on 10,000 hours together, you may stumble into a honeymoon phase with your actual real significant other. While long-term commitment may not be the sexiest concept for everyone, it’s basically your love language. What weakens your knees is not the one-off grand romantic gesture but the gradual process of someone showing up every day and earning your respect. No bells and whistles needed. Just the goods.

Libra

You might not be in love per se, but you are in a groove where you and your friends are really appreciating each other. Romantic friendship is a truly Libran concept, whereby sweet and whimsical elements sneak into your platonic relationships. Perhaps you’re more physically affectionate, or you make each other laugh so hard it’s like you lose yourself in the world you’ve created together. You’ve probably got cute nicknames, too. It’s not that the bonds of your friendship are structured differently than others; they are just tinted with a romantic hue. And it’s a very summery palette.

Scorpio

If you’ve ever been in love, then a tiny part of you is still in love. You’re the sign of deep emotional transformation, and you’re forever marked by all of your exes. (By the way, so are they.) This summer, there may be one you can’t stop thinking about, and who knows, with retrograde season afoot, you may get back in touch. But whether the rekindling takes place in a wistful reverie (cue Adele) or by actually meeting up and seeing if this thing still works, you’re longing for something you’ve already had. Of course, there’s also the pesky reasons you broke up in the first place–but that’s what fall is for!

Sagittarius

Oh my god, your summer fling is famous! If any sign is built for celebrity, it’s you, Sagittarius. You’re exuberant, full of life, charming, and so funny. So it makes sense that you may catch the eye of someone with a following. Maybe it’s an actual, literal A-list star, or maybe it’s an up-and-coming writer or a comedian with some niche fame, but either way you’ll be totally hot for each other and down to soak up the spotlight together.

Capricorn

Capricorns like to maintain composure, which is why it’s so cute when someone you didn’t expect to fall for cuts right through your defenses. Prepare to find yourself this summer completely taken with someone who is so not your type. If you tend to go for theater nerds, you may be dazzled by the wit of a banker. Maybe you’re a dyed-in-the-wool baseball fan and they are addicted to celebrity gossip. Let yourself get carried away by the novelty, and try to remember that just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re wrong for each other.

Aquarius

I see you with someone sweet, Aquarius. Someone soft with delicate curves. They are completely comfortable in their own skin, and it inspires you. When you’re together, they leave you breathless and flushed. PDA is inevitable. You can take them anywhere, and your parents will absolutely love them. But it’s too soon for that. You’re still getting to know them. Even though they seem bright and carefree on the surface, you can sense a dark pit of insecurities. Sometimes when you’re hot and heavy, they get in your face and make a mess. But it’s okay, because they quench a thirst you never knew you had. They make you feel young! You’re not the jealous type, Aquarius, but they turn heads, and you can tell that others want in on your fresh bounty. But they are all yours. Okay, I’ll call them by their name–I’m talking about peaches! You’ll be crushing on peaches.

Pisces

Nothing beats the romance of a first love, and you, Pisces, may re-develop some fuzzy feelings for your childhood crush. You just can’t replicate the chemistry with someone who used to walk with you behind the swings at recess and whose mom was your homeroom teacher in middle school. Let the magic of the past sweep you both up this summer, as you rediscover the ways you’ve changed and stayed the same. It’ll make your trips home extra sweet.

Illustration by Allison Filice. 

The post Your Summer Fling, According to the Zodiac appeared first on Man Repeller.