Gone are the days of dainty purses and miniscule wallets. They’re fine for special events, sure, but for everyday use, it looks like women are turning to real bags. Huge bags. The kind of bag into which you fit half your life- and then never find it again. Giant black holes slung on our shoulders sucking in every stray business card, matchbook, and penny that cross their paths.

At one time Big Bags were strictly for use by mommies, to carry Bandaids and nail clippers and tissues and lip balm and the million-and-one other things that kids may require on a daily basis.

Now my own Big Bag is stocked with Bandaids and nail clippers and tissues and lip balm, and I definitely have zero children in tow. The bottom is littered with old receipts, seven pens and gum wrappers. My Metrocards are slipping between the pages of my three notepads and my laptop is a constant companion. There’s even a hardcover copy of The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen somewhere in there. My iPod headphones are tangled up in my cell phone charger. Every credit card I’ve ever owned is jammed into my wallet that contains no cash. Three lipsticks are rolling around stuck inside of the lining.

Sound familiar? Read More »

My phone is ringing. Again. And again. And again. At 4 a.m. my ex calls, just to shoot the breeze. I have to get up for work in three hours! The six missed calls earlier were not one, not two or three, but four different friends calling to find out what I was doing that evening and if I wanted to go out for drinks.

This is not a weekend.
This is a Wednesday night.

It seems the time has come to prune some extraneous leaves on the branches of my social tree. My phonebook now includes some names to which I cannot even match the slightest hint of a face.

I have now reached the stage where I can answer the question, “So what are you up to tonight?” with, “Oh nothing,” and invariably end up somewhere loud at three in the morning stumbling into a dirty bathroom and incessantly repeating the line that never fails to impress: “I have work in the morning! I can’t believe that I am out doing this!” Read More »

Since I was starting my Friday evening at a lounge with friends, I was aiming for dressy-casual as I rifled through my closet. About half an hour later, my mind was made up: leggings, dress, and of course, the new slingback stilettos in lieu of those I ruined on my last “date” (RIP, Nine West pumps. I think of you often).

I don’t feel completely dressed without a pair of heels, and I couldn’t care any less that I’m six feet tall without them. I love their ability to make my jeans look a little dressier and my legs look longer, and overall, I feel empowered in them. I love my stilettos and consider them buddies who see me through good times and bad. No matter how much my feet hurt, I know that they only want me to feel and look pretty.

This particular evening, like so many others, there was no question what shoes were making the trek downtown with me.

I was approximately two drinks and three hours into my night when my friends and I finally found a table at our second venue. Our table was in the middle of the bar, one of those that doesn’t really allow for much more than a few martini glasses. I happily pulled up a barstool without a second thought. Read More »

I quit Diet Coke. I’ve been clean for 2 months with one lapse, where I tried to save calories at the bar and went for a Bacardi and diet. I couldn’t even finish it and have been off the sauce (the cola, that is) ever since.

Basically I have come to the conclusion that diet soda isn’t that great for you. Yes, it gives you a caffeine buzz, but there’s something I respect more about coffee and tea. I also read Skinny Bitch and the scare tactics got to me. But as I tried to keep myself from running around all jittery, I realized that leaving caffeine is a lot like ending a serious relationship. Except it can actually help stop the formation of an ulcer instead of causing it.

I’m down to one cup of coffee a day. It’s trickiest when you need little pick-me-up to get through the work day, but some things have definitely helped me transition: Read More »

Ladies, when we show up to a party or a bar, we want to bring our A game, right?

There’s nothing like strutting in looking and feeling great, and I think the best way to get in the zone is to have a few pre-game rituals to get you going. You know what I’m talkin about. Start the party at home.

#1 Play dress up: You and your roommates will go through 25 different outfits while you’re getting ready anyway. Why not have a fashion show in the process? Dress each other, shop in each other’s closets, just have fun!

#2 Make a Pump-You-Up playlist: Put together all of your favorite girl jams—anything that will get everyone dancing. I always love to throw in some hip-hop, hard rock, and 80’s. Do I smell hairbrush karaoke? Might want to take it for the ride to the party too.

#3 Collaborate: Switch off doing each other’s hair and make-up. You’ll always have fresh looks and new ideas for next weekend. And who doesn’t like getting their hair and make-up done for them??

#4 Crack the bottle: Let’s not get trashed before leaving the house, but it’s always great to meet and greet with the glow of a mini-buzz upon arrival. I like to pick out new drinks every weekend, but if that’s not your thing, a good cosmo never fails.

That’s how I pre-game, but I want some new ideas. How do you pop, lock, and drink it?

I love the Fall in Michigan.

I love the way the leaves go from boring green to bright and beautiful reds, oranges and yellows. I love it when I can start to see my breath outside and I have to wrap one of my grandma’s homemade scarves around my neck. And I am absolutely obsessed with apple cider and donuts at the Cider Mill.

But as I sit here at 5:00 PM on a Monday and look out on a street that is pitch black, cold and dreary, I can’t help but feel the pangs of seasonal depression start to sink in. I don’t want to leave my house. I don’t want to leave my bed. I just want to sit, eat and watch TV.

It’s awful. And it explains why I always gain five pounds every winter. It also explains why there is a large and permanent butt print in my couch cushion. And why the guys at the Thai delivery place up the street know my name already.

So, this year I am trying everything I can to avoid my winter blues. In my quest not to retire to the couch (with a giant bag of Dark M&Ms) this winter I have been doing some research and have found some surefire ways to stay happy this winter:

Bring on the Light: One reason people get a little down in the dumps in the winter is because there is less sunlight during the day. Doctors agree that the best way to lift your sagging spirits is to simply get some more light: open the curtains as soon as you wake up, go for a walk, etc. Even a short amount of natural light (even on a cloudy day!) will put some pep in your step naturally.

Hit the Gym: One of the hardest things for me to do in the winter is get to the gym. Why go out in the cold to work out when I can cover my fat with oversized sweaters and sweatpants? Well, it turns out that getting exercise is one of the best ways to feel better on a dreary winter day. Those endorphins will get your body pumping and feeling great for hours to come. Bonus: a good workout will also warm you up! Read More »

Hey girls, how do YOU avoid an unwanted smooch? Is there ever a way to let them down easy? Let us know in the comments!

There are a million things we wish we could ask our boyfriends and for one reason or another, we feel like it’s not appropriate to do so.

Is this normal and healthy or is it adding unnecessary strain to a relationship?

Is there such thing as knowing (or asking) too much?

We here at College Candy think that making what you feel or want known is one of the most important things in a relationship but we want to know what you think!

Should you ever ask the following questions to your significant other?

Is it OK to ask your guy…

• …to buy tampons for you?

Read More »

Frat parties: after eight months of their splendor we swear them off for eternity. As soon as freshman year ends and we move out of the dorms we promise never to return to their sweaty sleazy goodness.

Who wants to wait in those long lines freezing to death in a mini skirt and tube top in the middle of winter? Who wants to be packed into a small room with sweaty men groping your ass at every turn?

Who wants to listen to that awful rap music boasting illegitimate children and millions of dollars worth of bling blaring from oversized speakers?

Not me…or so I thought.

Look at me now: freezing to death in a pair of jeans and a button down, waiting in line to get into a crowded room where older and sleazier men are trying to pinch my butt while grinding to awful rap music blaring from oversized speakers.

What’s the difference?

I am now paying for all of these lovely amenities.

Why is it ok to take part in these activities at a bar and not at a frat party? What is the difference, really? And, think about it, which one really is better? Let the battle begin:

Frat
No Toilet Paper- some women have been forced to drip dry or–gasp!–use items such as leaves and notebook paper while taking care of business.
Bar
Usually have toilet paper, but not always a working toilet. Some squatters have even been known to brush up against pre-used TP piled high in clogged bowls. Read More »

I’m a sucker for acts of chivalry, however contrived they may be. Opening doors, pulling out chairs, offering his jacket on a cold evening, and yes, paying for dinner—it all makes me swoon.

Though I never agree on first date to a place where I can’t afford to pay my own way, I do firmly believe that whoever does the asking out should pay. Being the introvert that I am, this translates into my date always paying. But of course, not wanting to seem unappreciative, I always end up doing what my friends and I now refer to as “the fake purse-reach.”

As soon as the bill lands on the table, I reach into my purse and dig for my wallet, which is usually lying in a prominent location that requires no digging to reach. At this point, my date will usually offer an ardent “No, no, I’ve got it.” You know how it goes, ladies. I offer a “oh, no, please, let me at least pay my share,” while opening my wallet and casually taking out bills. My date protests once again, and I wrinkle my brow and say “Are you sure? Thank you so much!” Read More »