There are some attributes to the summer season that make it less than perfect. One of these is the prevalence of muffin top sightings, and I’ve just got to vent.

It’s not so much the muffin top in and of itself that irks me. It is OSTS, or One-Size-Too-Small Syndrome, afflicting so many girls that just baffles me.

Why do I refer to this…issue… as OSTS instead of the popular, Muffin Top? Well, in my humble opinion, the phrase “muffin top” implies that the offender is what she eats, and likely has a fondness for Oreos and Taco Bell. This simply is not always true. Skin hanging over your waistband does not mean fatness. I’ve seen girls who can’t possibly be any bigger than a size 4 with a muffin top, and it’s not that they’re at all chubby. Instead, it’s that they insist they’re a size two, and the end result in the obvious: OSTS. It’s not pretty. Read More »

We’ve all been there.

We are at the bar, enjoying our favorite hits from Madonna’s Immaculate Collection with our girlfriends when, BAM, that weird dude shows up out of nowhere. He may be old, he may be creepy, or he may just be plain old gross (no matter how many drinks we’ve had…and yes, we did take that into consideration…what can we say? It’s been a long, dry summer), but whatever the reason we are not interested.

We give all the right signals - our friends drag us away, we pretend that our phone is ringing, we start dancing with other guys - but he just doesn’t get it. What are we supposed to do?

Get creative, of course.

Our writers are weighing in this week with their best efforts at letting the lad down gently. Read More »

There’s not a whole lot I hate more than waiting when it comes to guys. Waiting for him to smile at me. Waiting for him to talk to me. Waiting for him to ask me for my number. And then waiting for him to call me. Waiting for him to ask me out when he finally does call and subsequently… waiting in limbo for him to eventually crush my dreams of everything I once hoped he was.

So fine. Maybe I’m more aggressive than your typical woman. But I hate the frustration that accompanies playing the role of the patient, traditional lady. I kill myself emotionally and mentally during the wait and a few years ago, I decided to just take matters into my own hands.

I’m no longer afraid to approach a guy at a bar–especially if I’m dressed all hot and cute. I’m not even afraid to tiptoe my way into exchanging numbers with him…but the key here is tiptoe.

Tiptoeing: the secret to being an aggressive woman.

It’s more than okay to let a man know what you want. In fact, many of them actually prefer it. It’s much easier to orchestrate some sort of relationship with a female if the male is confident that you’ll always speak your mind (cause lets face it…the role of submissive housewife is just gross and unattractive). However, there is an art to being aggressive while still fooling the guy into believing that he has some sort of power. Read More »