I was listening to (what we aspire to be our male counterparts) over at The Guy Friends Podcast in their post regarding Ass v. Boob Men. Towards the end, the question was posed to lady listeners regarding why women love men’s asses. Of course I had to answer this for myself: why do I like a man’s backside? The thing is, I’m particular and like them, your calves, and your arms to be toned. I don’t want them to be bulging and full of muscle. I want it to be slight and almost unnoticable. Infact, I started thinking about the few times I’ve ever been inclined to say ‘dat ass’…and here’s what it comes down to: they were in a suit. Or the occasional pair of jeans but that’s the expection that proves the rule. I like to think of this in the same way both ass and boob men go crazy for a woman in the classic jeans and white tee shirt combo. Some clothes compliment features of the opposite sex.
So here it is, the reasons all men should take the advice of the Broda, Barney Stinson and the Top 5 Reasons I Love (and Lust after a man in) a Well-Tailored Suit:
Class. I love a gentleman, and the suit has become a symbol of the everyday gentleman. I’m not saying that just because you’re in a suit I’m not gonna think you’re an ass if you do something douchey, but I will say that I’ll be less inclined to do so, because at least your suit shows that you’re an ass with a little class.
Confidence. It’s sexy; it’s sexy to men and it’s sexy to women. Confidence shows security. Let’s be clear that this doesn’t have to be financial security (even though it’s really nice), but emotional too. I want to know that if my boss yelled at me that you can put your crisp cotton covered arm around me and tell me everything is going to be ok. Simply put: a man in a suit eludes confidence. It tells a woman that he is confident and secure himself and his life, and that tells me he is ready to share himself and his life with a woman.
Fantasy. Costumes are a huge part of a fantasy. A man’s Star Wars fantasy isn’t complete without the Leia braids, and the An Office and a Gentleman fantasy isn’t the same without a uniform. I’m a lady who fantasizes about the likes of Roman Holiday and An Affair to Remember. I want my boyfriend to show me that he can be my leading man, my Gregory Peck or my Cary Grant.
Functional. I’m a lady who likes functional things. I’m a busy gal, and I’m on the go. When I’m shopping, I’m drawn to things that can go from day to night because that’s what fits my lifestyle. A suit is the ultimate day to night look. You can look dapper like Draper in the office, but lose the blazer and loosen the tie when you loosen up at the bar after work and still look damn good.
Fit. It’s all about the fit. If it doesn’t look like it is cut for you, then it isn’t cutting it. I’m not going to a buy a top, no matter how much I like it, if I can’t fill it out, and you shouldn’t buy a suit if you can’t fill it out. It’s simple: invest in a well-tailored suit. Let the baggy tees lay to rest or wear them when you are having a day of rest…at home. A suit can really be a blank canvas, you can have your staple black, navy, charcoal and then you can choose your look with a colored shirt or a sleek patterned tie. Feeling bold? Do both. Or maybe mix it up with a skinny tie. And as a last note, please, please, please, consider your thread count, because if I start thinking about the thread count you’re wearing, than I might think about about feeling the thread count covering your mattress. And who doesn’t love a line like that?
There it is: the secret to the lady boner.
To both the ladies and the gentlemen, I would like to suggest for your further education and viewing pleasure, a documentary: Jack Taylor Of Beverly Hills. If you are a fan of the suit, or a wearer of suits, then you should know and might take an interest in how the suit came to be the iconic wardrobe staple it is today- it all started with Jack Taylor, tailor to Hollywood. He’s an adorable, fiesty little old man Italian man with a lot of heart, sass, respect and clients. He dressed Sinatra and he dresses Jason Schwartzman, basically enough said.
Which hopefully means a relationship?
Truth is, I don’t care what this summer brings as long as it includes:
Adler After Dark. Cosmos while having cosmos? SIGN.ME.UP. Every third Thursday of the month.
Cocktails on the beach. Cheers to my whino of an aunt that lives on the shore for teaching me how to conceal drinks at the ripe young age of 15. Also, I am an Equal Opportunity Drinker. Meaning I don’t discriminate when it comes to where I have a libation. I will drink them in a box. (I might even drink them from a box…lookinatchu Franzia) I will drink them with a fox.
Chicago Air and Water Show. Could I be any more toursity by wanting to do this? I’ve been out of town in the past. Which wasn’t the worst decison ever. But this year I’m doing it. If only to say I’ve done it once.
Forever Yogurt. I don’t care what anyone says, this is the best fro yo in the city. Sometimes I like to skip a meal and just eat fro yo. Shit Single Girls Say.
Market Days. I have not missed one yet. And have you all seen that line-up? I don’t care if you are lesbian, gay, bi, trans, queer, or an ally, that line-up is golden.
Movies in the Park. I’ve missed this several summers and it will be happening. Actually, just movies. Because SPIDERMAN and DARK KNIGHT RISES. These both deserved caps lock.
Summer Nails. And plenty of it! I tend to opt for a nude on my nails and the brighter the better on my toes. I am currently wearing Essie’s e-nuf is e-nuf. Next will be Essie’s Turquoise and Caicos. My other go-tos for summer are OPI’s Red Hot Ayers Rock (Australia), and On Collins Ave (South Beach). If you don’t know a nude that fits your skintone and preferences, I suggest you do that this summer.
Roscoe Village Burger Fest. Every year I say I’m gonna go. And then I don’t. And I really should because this oughta be a mecca for straight men. And I enjoy a good burger. Side Note: Gin Blossoms played 2 years back and then the lineup went to hell.
Roy Lichtenstein: A Retrospective. If you like art, and you like pop art then you should go. Hell if you like awesome things you should go because this is going to be awesome.
Trivia. I’m pretty fucking competitive. And there’s thousands of places in the city and I can’t wait to get a team and dominate. Get at me if you ave a suggestion of where to play.
So there it is, my first post back to the blogosphere and my top ten picks for Summer 2012. Y’all ready? It can only get better from here. Trust me.
Hello Followers and Happy New Year!
I for one am beyond relieved that my planner reflectes January 2012. Year after year I find myself looking forward to New Years more than Christmas. I find the idea of millions of people welcoming a clean slate to be refreshing. Some think New Years resolutions are nonsensical, but I don’t. You see, whether one sticks to their resolution or not, I am always the one that finds them to be proof that we’re all human. We all have one thing that we want to do differently to improve ourselves and our relationships in this big, ever hectic world.
After finishing up last quarter I headed home and did some much missed and much needed yoga to aid in my rejuvenation from fall quarter. With a private instructor we worked on some visualization and I found that at almost every moment I am either thinking about the past or the future and never living in the present. The past year I have been living life like one of those derps screaming “DO ALL THE THINGS” and well, that is exhausting. Somehow in the last year I have gotten so far away from myself and what I really want. I have focused on what I thought I needed, which coincidentally, is what everyone else wanted.
In doing some of my own brief, customary reflection, here is what I found: 2011 was a big and busy year. It brought little career milestones, pain, the loss of loved ones, both triumphant and defeat, and even a little bit of hope.
When I was a little girl my mother always said “in order for someone else to like you, you have to like yourself”. Well, when I moved to Chicago I promised to like myself. And the past 2 years, I have. But I haven’t loved myself, which led to this:
I resolve that in 2012, I will learn to love myself.
To do so, I vow that every month I will find and embrace a quality that I cherish about myself. To start, I will work on identifying which parts of myself need some TLC after the past year. I will make that my utmost priority so that body and soul connected as one, I will embark on 2012 in peace and happiness.
So Chicago, for now, my single self is single and finding a whole new kind of love.
I’m not religious, and so I’ve never been to confesisonal but I do know the purpose of the act. So here I am, confessing to all those tumbl’n. Forgive me followers, for I have sinned: I have lied…about being back on OkCupid.
It’s been a while, a long while really, but in my defense I have been far from active. That was until last month, and then again, just now. I have a really good reason as to how this all happened.
It started one night in June. I had been working like a madwoman, all my friends were away, and so I was having one of my getting wine drunk alone in my room nights. After B rated romantic comedies from the Redbox I started feeling depressed and then drank a glass more and started to feel really great about how well I;ve been doing the past few months. I started toasting myself to how well I had ‘moved on’. I’d celebrate by putting myself back on the market: via the damn site. This was all a facade, not a total facade, but in retrospect, me reactivating on OkCupid to prove something to myself was a cry for help, and one that my buddy 2 buck Chuck (trader joe’s, y’all) wasn’t hearing.
Anyways, I immediately lost my password and because I was tipsy when I created it had no clue what it was. Last month I was reminded of this rdiciulous night by an OKC email notification. I retrieved my password and planned to deactivate…again. I began deleting all the really creepy messages from gross guys that do not actually live in Chicago and are trying too hard. As I scrolled up I found the most recent message, which wasn’t even recent. A super casual and friendly message from a guy that just seemed…nice. A good look at his profile later, I thought that I surely had missed the boat. I contemplated and realized that whether or not it leads anywhere, who says you can’t find friends on OkCupid? (watch that question lead to a post) So I messaged him back and apologized but I had lost my password but should he still be interested in chatting, I was. So I checked a day later: nothing, and then a week later: nothing. And I was ok about it.
Here we are now, a good month or so later and at 2:08am, I went to delete my OkCupid account…again. And yet again I found myself in the same situation. Several messages from creeps and one rather friendly message from the same guy as before. It’s late, or early, like 3:04am early; I have no idea what I’m doing. I know that I’m in a much better place that I was in February, or June, or even this past Wednesday. I have soberly decided upon my actions. I’ve relunctantly dipped my foot in the water now, typically I’d say let’s see how long it takes before I’m toweling off or swimming, however, I think I need to wade in the shallow end a bit. No floaties attached.
So delirious I’m using a swimming analogy,
I’m not even going to attempt to do my little apology bit and talk about how this blog is “a labor of love and not a day goes by where I don’t feel bad for not posting about the ups and downs of the city gal’s love or even lack there of”. I’ll just say it: I’m busy as shit, ladies. I am. I don’t want to toot my own horn but I honestly think I am Wonder Woman sometimes. I have more classes than usual, a production soon to open, an extremely active campus life, and am now a commuter- oh, and did I mention that I sleep now? Because, I do. I’ve also found time to read a book in the last week. It’s bizarre.
That being said, I don’t think about this blog daily- but I do think of it. Often on the train or rushing through the Loop I will think of my next post but never actually sit and write it, which is why I’m grateful for nights like this. It is Sunday night, 10pm and I should be doing homework but the internet is down, no one is home and so I’m going to do my ‘single things’ like dance to Beyonce while I hang up my trench (if you haven’t watched the videos to Countdown and Love on Top- you’re missing out, so stop reading for a moment and youtube it), eat mini chocolate chips from the pantry, sit in the dark while listening to Belle and Sebastian, and type away on a document. The perfect way to commit some time to this much neglected outlet.
Where should I even start? So much and yet so very little has happened since the last time I wrote. I guess in terms of our content here nothing much has happened. I’ve been thinking a great deal about relationships and our connection to one another. I was in rehearsal and began speaking with a group of peers about vivid dreams and one girl added how those vivid and reoccurring dreams are sometimes justified as the re-emerging of our past lives. I’m not religious, more spiritual and don’t have any concrete beliefs on the afterlife but I will say life after death intrigues me. This girl continued on to tell me how her mother has often dragged her to several conferences and book readings on the subject. According to this research the individuals we come into contact with are usually those individuals that we had a connection, either positive or negative, with in the past. The girl I was talking to continued to note examples she had seen in these conferences: your mother could have been your husband in a past life- your best friend a former enemy you must rectify your turmoil with. Additionally, she said she once read about how this particular therapist reunited two patients- both single and seeking therapy to handle their discontent- who he believed to have been soul mates separated in a past life. Naturally, I have questions, so many questions.
Who are these individuals that after one look, one conversation, we see something in? Are they “the one that got away” in a past life? Is there a chance that my unrequited love and I might share our mutual love non-profits, skiing, Birkenstocks, assorted cheeses and coffee curled up by a fire one day in a different lifetime?
When does our soul go to rest? Do we have to have mastered a series of achievements? Is having a great love, one for the books a requirement?
I know this sounds absolutely ludicrous but I can’t deny that I’ve been thinking about it non-stop for the past two days. I really want some sort of answers despite knowing in my core that love doesn’t always have answers- in fact, I don’t know if it ever does.
That’s all for now as there is nothing I love more than sleeping during a thunderstorm.
I read Vi’s latest post and compared to my last it is a perfect example of how different we are. I write about my life compared to Hollywood’s musical version of “Pygmallion” and she’s writing her “get real speech” to singles. This post is not intended to be directed at Miss Bennet my any means, but rather something that I’ve been needing to write on for a while. Her post just provided the opportunity. That being said, I need to clarify my ance and current place:
I do not need a boyfriend. Would I like one? Yes. I would also like a lot of other things, among them are: to study in Paris, a higher paying job, a massage, to go home for more than four days, and a pair of Christian Louboutins. Having all or even just one of these things would be lovely but at this moment they aren’t a reality and while it, excuse me for being frank, sucks- that’s the way it is right now.
I have my life together, while it may not seem like it to most- I do. I have a job. I have an education. I have hobbies. I have great friends, who I go out with, without the intention of finding Mr. Right Now. But I also have friends that I go out with that have their slew of flings. I have friends that have no direction but jump from relationship to relationship. I put my personal needs first. I have a sense of who I am. I have my life pretty damn together. It’s full, and rewarding, but it’s also lonely.
I can get off stage and know that I don’t have any one’s arms to run into. I can cook for myself. I can comfort myself when I’ve had a rough day. I even have worked up the strength to eat alone in public. I do it all,but I don’t always like it. I want it to change, but I don’t need it to.
I don’t need a man to “have it all”; plenty of men and women have the life they want without having any one else be a part of the equation. But I’m not that woman. My dream is to have a career and a family. So while some may disapprove, that’s ok, because I know that we’re all entitled to our needs, but we’re also entitled to having wants.
I don’t need to have it all, but I sure as hell want it,
There are few films that I must watch each year, and in the great month of October, Practical Magic is a must. And though I’ve seen it dozens of times since I first watched it with my mother years ago, today, for the first time the final line really hit.
But there are some things I know for certain: always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder, keep rosemary by your garden gate, plant lavender for luck, and fall in love whenever you can.
I guess its no longer today, as it is now almost 1am, so yesterday it really hit and perhaps it was because yesterday could not have gotten any worse. It was one of those days where everything in the world seems to unravel. We’re all familiar with those days and therefore I shall not elaborate on its events or how I felt as a result of it, but know it was bad. It wasn’t until the evening when I could sit in my living room, curled up in my favorite wool blanket from home, staring out at the colored leaves whipping through the ‘worst storm in 70 years’, that for just a moment I was finally able to breathe. And then it hit, I need to simplify my life.
I need to strip it down to what I need and what I really want. I want a life of simplicity and happiness. I want my life to be full full of things I genuinely like. I like the little things in life like rainstorms, mini canvases, childrens literature, throw pillows, the sound of champagne fizzing, deserted gardens, cinnamon, and black and white films. I want more of that. I want less twisted bed sheets, needles, lost socks, broken makeup compacts, ant bites, and stuck zippers, and above all I don’t want to worry about broken hearts and missed connections. I’m through with impatiently waiting for a cursory glance and doting on words that mean nothing. I’m done baking cookies at 3 am as an excuse to stop by someone’s office only to torture myself further. From now on I’m baking for me (and the five other girls I live with).
This is not a proclamation of “I’m Single! I’m not tied down! I have no one to answer to but myself!” No, this is not that. This is an official change in my approach and relationship status. I am not single. I’m in a relationship with myself, and it’s a very commited relationship. I’m commited to improving myself and my outlook on life. I need to re-discover who I am. Like any new relationship I expect a phase of pure bliss and know that very soon it may start to get a little rocky and it will take work. I’m building a life in this city-a life I’m proud of;one that brings me joy. And someday someone will stop by, and then another, and eventually someone might find enough reason to stay. But in the meantime I’ll be tossing salt over my shoulder because I spill quite frequently, and since I dont have a garden, or a gate, I will cook with rosemary, and use lavender oil for luck and fall in love when I can.
May your dreams be sweet,
I’m quite loquacious, always have been. This being said, when I’m nervous it is in my nature to talk. Sometimes this is dangerous as my mind is a mess of words and ideas and I get tongue-tied and words just escape my mouth without any filter, kind of like what I am doing right now. I’m nervous. Can you tell? This moment is one to be remembered as it is the first time I commit all of my desires, fears, complaints, and far-fetched ideas into a post that can be accessed by anyone and everyone. Let me introduce how I’ve reached this point.
After resisting the blog frenzy for years it has come to this- my first post. I love writing, and that never has or will be the reason I am hestitant about blogging. The reason is simply that I fear not having enough witty or insightful comments to justify blogging. It seems so self indulgent and throughout the course of this blog I hope to prove to myself and others with this opinion that it is not.
We as people are defined by our experiences. Being a young college student I am well aware that I haven’t had many. I’ve recently taken the biggest leap of my life and traded in the East Coast for Midwestern skyscrapers. It’s been one year, and I’m still asking the question of “Are You There Chicago? It’s Me, Single.”
I know how this sounds- it’s almost repulsive to me too, I assure you. However, I hope by writing this I can change how cliche it all is. Like many things, there is the reason it is just that- a cliche, and that is because time after time it is proven to be true. There are many singles throught the world. Some are men, many are women, and some are young, and others old. I’m in America’s Second City and it seems to be an epidemic, if you will.
This blog will be be the result of the experiences and observations of two different women, each of us fabulous in our own way. For the moment we are both 20, and single in the city.
I’m not one for making promises but I am committed to making this as fresh, unique, creative, and accessible as it can be. I’m looking forward to seeing how reflection and experimentation lead to change and welcome followers who are up for the adventure.
Yours, Holly Buchanan