before glamour blogged about dating

was looking through a back issue of Cosmo that I had and saw my old favorite column-the monthly Dating Diary. written first by a couple NYC women, then a NYC guy, then a Chicago guy, it’s pretty entertaining.

i was able to re-read some of it thanks to the wayback machine…check it out here or here. it’s good stuff…

(though unfortunately makes my dating life look sad in comparison…)

5 thoughts on “before glamour blogged about dating

  1. “though unfortunately makes my dating life look sad in comparison…)”You and me both, girlfriend.

  2. makes me wonder how much of this stuff is real and how much is scripted. same thing with all those NYC reality “single in the city” shows.and why do i even indulge in reading/watching this stuff? am I that much of a glutton for punishment?

  3. Those reality shows are SUPER scripted. Seriously — that much drama doesn’t exist in real life. I also suspect that these dating blogs and columns contain huge embellishments. After all, they’ve gotta keep readers reading.

  4. My take on most of the so-called “women’s magazines” is that they’re designed to prey upon women’s insecurities. Juxtapose making women feel bad about their bodies and lives with ads pimping products that promise to make buyers happy/successful/thin/loved/ whatever, and you’ve got a wonderful vehicle for selling more crap. The only reality show I’ve ever seen is The Biggest Loser (before I went TV-free) and I stopped watching it in disgust after the first few episodes. I felt like the producers were trying to manipulate my emotions and that seemed like a low-down kind of thing to do.

  5. SS’s comment reminds me of the wise words of Chicago Tribune Mary Schmich, who wrote that “don’t forget the sunscreen” ditty that was all the rage at college graduations a few years ago. She said, “Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.” I pretty much swore off them a few years ago, meaning I cancelled all subscriptions, but sometimes when I’m at the airport or going to the beach, I buy one for shits and giggles. But don’t tell anyone.

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