Sketch by the inimitable Kelcey Vossen.
Oh, what a difference a year can make.
This revelation comes to me after days of racking my brain deliberating on how to welcome you, my dear readers, to the inception of the surefire shitshow that is 2017. I was aiming for an aspirational, heartfelt post, a mission made impossible by the fact that I am currently on a crazy Asian voyage that has left me with bout of food poisoning and confused all my emotions like a bunch of legumes haphazardly tossed onto a skillet. And so, I decided to do what I do best and deliver you a step-by-step disaster that inspired a pivotal change in my mindset over the past year. Since the best of us learn from the mistakes of others, I hope it will service you better than any heartfelt BS ever could.
In which we delve into the innermost secrets of New York-based fashion journalist (and sporadic DD contributor) Rebecca Suhrawardi.
Your favorite qualities in yourself:
Well-read, well-traveled, loyal, honest, healthy, true to myself, talented, independent, smart.
Your favorite qualities in a man / woman:
Honesty, loyalty, health, ambition, talent, old-school values, humility, relaxed (no drama).
Deal-breaker in a man / woman:
Dishonesty, disloyalty, smoking or excessive drinking.
Your favorite date activity:
Anything adventurous! I love to try new things, going places I have never been, seeing things I have never seen, or even as simple as taking a different path on the hiking trail. I love the excitement and sensation of newness.
O come all ye singles, for it’s the most debaucherous time of the year! In the midst of the Siberia of fun that is Cuffing Season hides a fun-soaked Holiday Party oasis, a sliver of time to dunk your brain in complementary Veuve Cliquot and allow the Gods of Promiscuity to guide you towards Great Mistakes. No, I am not advocating promiscuity – I’m a ROLE MODEL, after all. (To my dog Chloe, at least.) I’m just stating the obvious fact that the holidays season has strong potential for excellent misadventures which, in turn, often result in outstanding Walks of Shame.
Often disregarded merely as an aftermath of a Great Mistake, the Walk of Shame is actually a delicate art form. If honed with care, it eventually allows you to shed all traces of embarrassment and own your 8am cat eye makeup and heels like you’re Adriana Lima and the world is your VS runway. Since it is my strong belief that no Walk of Shame is created equal, I have decided to compile some of my most notable morning after memories, along with those of my friends, for some imperative holiday inspiration.
I would also like to officially dedicate this post to Uber, committed to rescuing countless desperate women since 2009.
“I give up,” proclaims a girlfriend, flinging her cherished iPhone 7 on the table as though it were an explosive device. Given the rate at which it is spewing out a stream of notifications, stemming from none other than five dating apps (full disclosure—she has a separate folder), it certainly seems like a threat to one’s sanity at the very least.
Over the past year, online dating fatigue has become a justifiable phenomenon that is forcing more single people to adopt a blasé approach or even abandon it altogether. In addition to the stupefying abundance of options, there is the deteriorating quality of interactions and consequent dates. In the off chance that you manage to break the virtual barrier and coordinate a physical rendezvous, there is a high likelihood the person will have mentally checked out by the second cocktail, eager to swipe on to the next B-list bikini model. With dating apps as our metaphorical free pass, we appear to be zipping through this dystopian carnival of love with our trademark extremism, only to be confronted by an ardent sense of nausea at the end of each ride.
READ MORE HERE!
A parting letter to my roaring twenties, conceived on the eve of my 30th birthday (with a glass of tequila in tow).
Oh my twenties
You were a glorious ride
A flash of YOLO moments
And denim shorts that exposed my behind
Of nights that started in a sober air
And ended up with man-tousled hair
Chances are that your decision to click on the title of this post was accompanied by a skeptical scoff. “There she goes again.. What nonsense could she have possibly conjured this time?” you may have thought. After all, as we approach the slippery single zone of cuffing season, it is all too easy to get distracted by daydreams of fireplace cuddles and tandem figure skating sessions, inadvertently pushing yourself into a sad hole of self-pity, or a desperate Bumble binge. As we recently learned the hard way, human beings have a terrible tendency to under-appreciate the now and to make rash decisions in hope of a better future, leading to catastrophic missteps à la nominations of orangutans as presidents. (Slightly off-topic. I just had to say it.) On this day of commercially-induced gratitude, I urge you take a moment to be thankful for the now, wherever you are in your life, because there is always a chance that it could all be way worse. If you happen to be single, I will also be supplying you with reasons.