June 15, 2011


June 22, 2011


Go With The Flow.

What’s more hip right now than vampires? Tampons, obviously. Let’s talk about vaginas, shall we?

I’ll admit it— I’m a bit of a brand whore, and I’m as loyal as the Labrador Retriever you grew up with when I find a product I like. I’ve worn the same American Eagle jeans since I was in middle school, because they’re the cuts that fit me best. I’ve washed my hair with Garnier Fructis since I was a senior in high school. I only ride in Dansko paddock boots, and Ariat tall boots. I buy Barilla pasta (if it’s good enough for the supermarkets in Italy, it’s good enough for me). I pitched an ungodly fit when my local pharmacy changed my straight-from-the-brand Ortho Tri-Cyclin Lo to the generic birth control alternative, and had it promptly changed back. (Part of that may have been because the generic pills looked like they had been pressed by some enterprising young meth-head in his back-country trailer park, and also the fact that I am NOT willing to risk my fertility on the cheap shit, because babies are HELLA expensive.) And I have always, ALWAYS used Playtex Gentle Glide tampons (fresh scent,) for as long as…well, for as long as I’ve been cursing being born female and fertile.

However, this is not to say that I can’t occasionally be lured away from a specific product by the seductive siren song of another. While I may be very, very loyal and monogamous in my relationships with people, my relationships with products have a tendency to sometimes end up polygamous. Take, for instance, the last time I found myself journeying down the “feminine care” aisle of my local Rite-Aid on a last-minute “Dear god, like the three bears, my bathroom cupboards are bare and Goldilocks (Little Red Riding Hood would possibly be more apt?) has come to town!” mission. There they were, right in front of me— the pink box with the familiar script, the reassuringly large “S”, the vague floral scent wafting out of the box already. But, three boxes to my right, something caught my eye. It was black. It was colorful. It was modern. It was aggressive! It was a box that said, “Hey, cool lady, let’s kick this period’s ass like it’s past 4 AM at Bungalow 8 and you’re on Andy Warhol’s arm!” Someone had obviously done enough market research to pick up on the fact that a black background with bright color accents just pops off the shelf (can’t express to you how many books I have mysteriously ended up owning based on the fact that my brain sees bright pink on a black cover and instantly equates it with the next Great American Novel and NYT best-seller…which never, in fact, ends up happening), because after some hemming and hawing over the comfort of the familiar versus this bright new interloper, the box of regular-weight U by Kotex Click tampons had popped right into my basket. Women will endlessly be attracted to the shiny and new.

After two trials of “Why could I not have been born a Brandon?” use, here’s the list of pros and cons that I’ve compiled for this new product in regards to how they stand up/fill out/carry their (water) weight against my beloved Gentle Glides. As always, every woman (and her flow) is different, so just because I found it a certain way doesn’t mean that you necessarily will, too. Just keep that in mind. Now that we’ve got that across, here are my VERY opinionated views: From an aesthetic point of view, the box and packaging of U have it allllllll over Playtex. The tampon cartridges themselves are much smaller, which is convenient because trying to fit a super-weight Playtex tamp in the pocket of a pair of girl’s jeans is pretty much like trying to shove an atomic missile into hiding inside of a lycra catsuit. You know something is in there. The U’s small cartridge, ever so tiny enough to fit a handful in my summer clutch, also expands to click into place (hence the name, Kotex Click) rather neatly. I got the first box of U’s when they offered blue, green, orange and yellow colors instead of the rather sickly purple they replaced the blues with, but hey. Still, they have much more personality than Gentle Glides. And I always thought a woman’s tampons told you a lot about her personality.

The thinner plastic cartridge (I never understood why ANYONE, including my mother, would have ever used the cardboard cartridges; I mean, I get that they’re more environmentally friendly, blah blah blah go hug a tree, but the sensation of trying to use one is like trying to insert the corner of the box of Annie’s Organic Mac & Cheese you just ate for lunch into your down-undah. NO THANK YOU!) also equates to an interesting other plus for Kotex— you know that phenomenon that happens as you get towards the end of your Time of Bleed when your vagina just kind of shuts down like a government building under attack and stops accepting any foreign bodies into it and is all, “PENIS OR BUST!” and for the life of you, you cannot plead, cajole, coerce, or force another tampon comfortably in there to save your life, or your new pair of underwear? Well, with the very slim plastic cartridge body, the U just kind of…slides by your vaj’s defenses unnoticed, like Bond. No struggle, no teeth-gritting, and no more crying and pleading while in a public bathroom stall that distracts other people around you. Solid.

However, the U does fall short of my beloved Gentle Glides in a few places: Namely, the fact that the regular-weight U’s are about half the size and absorbency of the regular-weight Gentle Glides. They don’t expand as well to fit and leak-proof your lady-bits quite as well as Gentle Glide’s cotton protection does, either, probably due to the fact that Gentle Glide’s cotton tamps are roughly the same softness and fluffiness that newborn baby kittens are, while U’s tamps are made of something that feels suspiciously like yesterday’s newspaper that’s been lining your kid sister’s hamster cage overnight. It’s kind of stiff, kind of hard, and has this weird…well, this weird almost shell to the cotton, which acts as kind of like a primary defense system that your bodily fluid have to breach before the damn tamp will begin to absorb. Not, generally, the best thing that one looks for in a tampon.

All in all, this one’s kind of a wash. While I continue to buy my Gentle Glides for their vastly superior protection, I’ve also started making sure that I always have a small box of the regular-weight U’s kicking around for either those really light days when my vagina decides that it’s on maximum security lockdown, or for those special occasion events like summer weddings, outings on boats, or barbecues when I need either my small clutch instead of a large purse, or don’t want to look like I’m smuggling Cuban cigars back into the country in my denim short’s pocket. So, U by Kotex Click— worth the fancy-shamancy hip packaging, but not worth it to entrust any new pairs of underwear to provided that like Victoria, you should want to keep your little monthly visitor a secret.

XOXO

—-

- From SATCG.

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June 28, 2011


Poll Of The Day:

I’m doing laundry. Then it hits me— It would be RIDICULOUS for women to fold our teeny tiny little underwear, but boxers, well, boxers have a whole hell of a lot more fabric.

Do men fold their boxers?

XOXO 

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July 10, 2011


Let’s discuss how much I love this song and video:

A.) B has always reminded me a gawdawful lot of my girl Caaaaaaiti, so, instant win there.

B.) What a kick-ass wedding and reception; yes, please— that’s how you do.

C.) The lingerie.

D.) HER FACIAL EXPRESSIONS. THEY KILL ME.

XOXO

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August 19, 2011


I was caught red-and-pink-handed today in Victoria’s Secret. He took a left for the loos, and I said I’d wait on a bench, but the bench just so happened to be riiiiiiight in front of Vickie’s, and it was like the gravitational force of all that underwear and lace and silk pulled me right in.

…I had to be pushed out.

How embarrassing. There needs to be a rehab program for this.

XOXO

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September 2, 2011


What am I doing?

Oh, nothing…just browsing through a Jockey underwear catalog for men.

Mmmm, buff bodies in boxer-briefs.

XOXO

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October 1, 2011


Oh, Vickies. Why must you do this to me? I covet these so badly. Me, and my $4 in my wallet. 
If anyone truly loves me, I am an XS.
XOXO

Oh, Vickies. Why must you do this to me? I covet these so badly. Me, and my $4 in my wallet. 

If anyone truly loves me, I am an XS.

XOXO

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January 23, 2012


A beeyoteful pink demi bra and 4 pairs of underwear from Vicki’s for $25 dollars.
And a job offer.
Thank you, semi-annual sale left-overs, and thank you, new/old 34D boobs. Tiniest VS Angel rides again.
XOXO

A beeyoteful pink demi bra and 4 pairs of underwear from Vicki’s for $25 dollars.

And a job offer.

Thank you, semi-annual sale left-overs, and thank you, new/old 34D boobs. Tiniest VS Angel rides again.

XOXO

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February 10, 2012


The Things That Cosmo Lied About.

Maybe I’ve just been sleeping with the wrong men, but it seems to me more and more that there are some things that Cosmopolitan magazine, the Bible of my overly-hormone-ridden teens and early twenties, has lied to me and its fellow devotees about. 

Specifically, there was that one article that told us to “gently slap his penis back and forth between your palms.”

Because I mean, nothing says “romance” like slapping your dick, right, guys?

I mean, at least I knew when I read that, right then and there, that that tip was a crock of shit. Some other things that Cosmo has preached repeatedly year after year, however, seem to take a little longer and a little bit of trial and error to understand will never work for you and your partner and your prospective libidos. Here are the top offenders— literally, OFFENDERS— that I’ve found. Just keep in mind that a real girl had to have tried these things with oftentimes more than one guy to make sure that it wasn’t just personality preference and a fluke. Oh, no. This was conducted like an honest-to-God experiment for the sake of SCIENCE. Sometimes mortifying, sometimes hilarious, but always illuminating, here are my findings. Learn from them, so that you too don’t have to end up sleeping in a bed smeared with whipped cream and trying frantically the next day to get your boss’s dog from licking your shins obsessively at work.

1.) Incorporating whipped cream into your “cooking” in the bedroom. Cosmo and I both happen to think that running downstairs and grabbing a can of Cabot’s Whipped for a “bedtime snack” is retro, fun, and spontaneous, right? Not so much. I have yet to encounter a man who does not look at me like I suddenly turned into Betty Crocker in latex and was able to not crack up at the concept of using whipped cream in bed. Most often, it turns into a food-fight, and then you have to change your sheets, do laundry the next morning, and you go to sleep with smears of curdling dairy material on your body, which is decidedly UNsexy.

2.) Sex to music. In my early college years, I hooked up with this guy on and off who would always play R&B while we rolled around. I loved it, and I grew to have a very deep appreciation for Musiq Soulchild. It was really sexy and set the tone for me. It would only stand to bargain then, that the genre of music you’re listening to really dic(K)tates your sack session tone and tempo, right? Well, I tried this a few times. Some guys were so distracted by the tunes that they requested silence. Others were vehemently against the aggressive rock or rap music that I hoped would translate the “I want to be taken, NOW!” message to them. Also, does anyone really have the time or forethought to set up music before the deed, let alone create a playlist? I know I did once…while I was single and not getting laid, and I’ve not once used it since. So, toss that tip.

3.) Taking control, playing the dominatrix, and tying them up. Taking control? Check— men like that. Playing the dominatrix if you normally are as sweet and pure as driven snow? Yup— drives ‘em wild. But tying them up or restraining them in any way? I’m a fan of (LOOSELY) tying a guy’s hands behind his back with a pre-slip-knotted scarf so that I’m in total control of the foreplay, but a couple kinks (pun fully intended) have always knotted (and again) up my plans. I had one guy who Houdini’d his way out. Another got muscle spasms in his biceps. Thankfully, I’ve never had anyone freak out on me about being a freak, but overall, it takes more planning and deciding what scarf you can handle sacrificing to potential bodily fluid stains and coercing and explaining and safe-word creation than may be worth it for most.

4.) Gently biting his member or any other form of teething during oral sex. …Ok, have you EVER heard a single man ask for more teeth during his beej, please? The only thing I’ve ever encountered was men who tried politely asking if there were any mouth-stretching exercises women could do, or if it was ok to knock a few teeth out to create more room. My answer was that it was always easier to find a more understanding and less endowed man.

5.) Pretty, matching, evocative, provocative underwear or lingerie. Disclaimer: I have a full-on addiction to Victoria’s Secrets. I am on first-name basis with the staff of not one, but three stores in the state. They give me tip-offs on the semi-annual sale before it happens. They actively try to recruit me. I can’t go into a store without spending at least half an hour there. I own over 200 pairs of underwear, 30 bras, and have probably personally funded one of those amazing diamond-encrusted, multi-million-dollar bras that they have during the Vickie’s Fashion Show every year. That being said, I have always encountered the same response from men every single time I have stripped down to my carefully planned and prepared, matching, lust-enticing skivvies: “Wow, they match. That’s nice. Now let’s get you out of them, STAT.” The S.O probably explained it to me best during one joint shopping trip after asking 5 minutes in if he could be excused from active shopping duty. “But isn’t there anything you like? Isn’t there anything you want to see me in?” I asked him, fully expecting that when given free reign to dress me up like a life-size Barbie in anything in the store, it’d get his blood pumping. But no. “Honestly, guys are more excited by what you’ve got UNDER your underwear,” he sighed. “Now can I please go to William-Sonoma?”

Case closed. I buy my underwear only in accordance to what pleases and impresses me from here on out. What about your dating disasters? Anything that Cosmo led YOU astray with?

XOXO

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May 26, 2012


New date is away for the weekend, so I am spending my Single Girl Saturday Night searching “boxer-briefs” on Tumblr and hoping to come across some soft-core porn for women.

The black boxer-brief is the Wonderbra of a man’s world. They just make everything look so…TIGHT.

XOXO

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August 7, 2012


The print on the front of the thank-you card I left Twig. I figured it was fitting, considering the multitudes of blonde hair I have and how much Baby Becks and I were smoking. And, you know, the fact that I bought it at the MIotA.
…Also, I may or may not have left a pair of my underwear on the floor by my side of the bed. Leopard print and lacy. And by “may or may not have,” I mean “definitely did, because I am shameless and thought they would be a sexy memento,” so let’s see how long it takes him to ‘fess up that they’re there and he has them, hmmm?
XOXO

The print on the front of the thank-you card I left Twig. I figured it was fitting, considering the multitudes of blonde hair I have and how much Baby Becks and I were smoking. And, you know, the fact that I bought it at the MIotA.

…Also, I may or may not have left a pair of my underwear on the floor by my side of the bed. Leopard print and lacy. And by “may or may not have,” I mean “definitely did, because I am shameless and thought they would be a sexy memento,” so let’s see how long it takes him to ‘fess up that they’re there and he has them, hmmm?

XOXO

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September 2, 2012


The Dog Ate My Underwear.

  • Me: So, did you happen to find a pair of lacy leopard print underwear? I'm doing laundry and they're missing.
  • Twig: I'm wearing them right now.
  • Me: If that's an affirmative that they aren't missing, I'll only be mad if you stretch them out.
  • Twig: Sorry, I don't have them.
  • Overlooking his humor and focusing on the problem at hand, Option #1 is that they were kicked farther under his bed or shelves, and he just hasn't found them yet. Option #2 is that his dog, who I thought had bonded with me in a sacred sisterly pact, found them on the floor on the side of the bed where I left them that day, and ate them. Seeing as the dog was clever enough to suss out the fact that my presence > attention paid to her, I'd put money on Option #2, and the demise of one of my best pairs of $28 Vickies cheeky underwear.
  • I try to do a cute, sexy thing, and the dog ruins it. Other women can be such bitches. Or, in this case, bitches can be such bitches.
  • XOXO

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October 14, 2012


I own this bra.
Strangely, it doesn’t make me look like this when I put it on.
False advertising.
XOXO

I own this bra.

Strangely, it doesn’t make me look like this when I put it on.

False advertising.

XOXO

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October 19, 2012


December 5, 2012