Confessions of an Attention Junkie

Musings of the Mind · by Marina Khorosh

One, two, three, four. These are the guys I have messaging me at the moment. One is a long-term friend with occasional six-whiskey-deep-when-the-full-moon-strikes-benefits. Two is cool, but is currently far away in Moscow, providing daydream material for daydreams of a Great Escape. Three and four, who are more unsaved numbers in my phone than actual identifiable human beings, are guys I’m not really interested in, but text back and forth with, just because.

Just because what? Just because I enjoy texting random half-strangers updates about my day? Not really. Just because I think that, one day, some miracle will happen and will make me view them in a new light? Most likely not. While no shrink has been consulted on this grave issue, I have a secret suspicion that the real reason I may be keeping this mini Raya army around is because I’m nurturing some underlying insecurity with constant male attention.

Best Date Looks From NYFW

Typecasting · by Marina Khorosh

Today marks the end of NYFW, the week-long party for your Instagram feed that allows you to mentally transport yourself out of winter hibernation mode and into a dynamic time and place where life happens – and, if you are a warm-weather dater like me, where dating happens! To incite some much-needed excitement for the foreseeable future when we are no longer walking human glaciers, your Love Life Guru has curated some of the best date looks spotted on the runways, targeted towards the gentleman of your choosing!

The Story of Papi Mezcal

I Know How To Pick'Em · by Marina Khorosh

Illustration by the amazingly talented Kelcey Vossen.

Going on a sober date is difficult enough.

Going on a sober date with a 45 year-old artist who is chugging down Mezcal like he’s on his first Cancun Spring Break while projecting the sins of his Russian ex-wife on you, is difficult on an entirely new level. Let’s just call it Dante’s Malebolge of dating.

Papi Mezcal and I met as a result of a fleeting experimental mood in which I temporarily tampered with my Raya age settings, one of those momentary lapses of judgment that come from looking at too much Birkin-Gainsbourg paraphernalia. To my credit, he was a young-looking 47, with a punchy slideshow that advertised his numerous tattoos, globetrotting adventures, and overall affinity for all things cool and hip.

Numbers were exchanged, and, by some technological glitch that I have yet to comprehend, he suddenly appeared on my Snapchat feed. This is when I discovered that Papi Mezcal was a true Snapchat wunderkind way beyond (or, in this case, below) his years. Think slow motion videos of ample-bodied security officers walking backwards through airports, holding emoji donuts while simultaneously releasing emoji turds – Gen Z levels of creative genius, really.

How To Get a Valentine in 10 Days

Those Who Can't Do, Teach · by Marina Khorosh

If you live in the Hallmark States of America, as I have the (dubious) fortune of doing these days, chances are that you can’t swing a box of tampons without stumbling across what looks like the rose-toned projectile vomit of a cheap chocolate factory, masquerading as a manifesto of undying love.

(Wow, how bitter did that come out?!)

The truth is that, like most people past the age of sixteen, I could give two loads about Valentine’s Day. (Pardon my soon-to-be-forgotten French.) For the couples, said fête implies obligatory relationship checkmarks in the form of last-minute dinner reservations and overpriced bouquets; for singles, it simply offers an excuse for an extra glass of wine or an extra Gucci splurge or whatever else Hallmark Holidays evoke in those who do not fall under their mass target range. Don’t even get me started on the quadrillion-dollar Valentine’s Day industry, annually serving up processed sugar and poorly-copywritten bullshit without a hint of remorse.

(But, seriously, how angry do I sound?! I am the ANTI-establishment! Like Rihanna!)

Q&A: Jasmine Lobe, The J-Spot Sex Columnist

Off the Record · by Marina Khorosh

Photo by Corey Hayes

“You have to meet Jasmine Lobe. You guys write about the same thing and you would love her.” If I had a few bucks for every time I heard these words, I could probably afford a new pair of snow boots. (My desires these days are simple.) Googling Jasmine, I was hesitant. To start, she happens to be a much better – not to mention ballsier – writer than myself, having been granted none other than Candace Bushnell’s former sex column at the New York Observer. Secondly, she looks more like a Victoria’s Secret Angel than a regular human, making me wonder what we could possibly have in common. As it turns out, more than I thought! After meeting for a casual chat, Jasmine and I become fast friends, and I spared no time coaxing her into a Dbag Dating interview. Last week, we sat down at the Ludlow Hotel and quickly found ourselves in a moving two-hour conversation about feminism, the power of positive thinking and the stigma of showing the real you. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to present to you the longest interview of all time with the one and only, amazingly talented The J-Spot columnist, JASMINE LOBE. (It’s worth every minute, I promise.)

Would You Date a Man Who Wore More Jewelry Than You?

DD x Vogue · by Marina Khorosh

In the Venn diagram of men and jewelry, there used to be but a narrow overlapping sliver reserved exclusively for rock stars and Johnny Depp, those few shining examples of men granted public permission to adorn themselves with more sparkle than a Vegas showgirl—without jeopardizing their masculinity. Up until recently, that is, when this space began rapidly expanding to welcome men from all walks of life. The proof is everywhere: A dating app swipe session yields innumerable man-bunned surfers displaying their tanned, tattooed, accessorized forearms; a visit to a Williamsburg, Brooklyn, bar has me asking a guy where he purchased the coin pendant hanging from his neck (so that I might snap one up as well); a ride up an escalator in a midtown office building reveals a banker channeling his inner Burning Man aficionado via carefully curated Miansai bracelets. (Let’s not even get started on Depp, whose accessories game officially jumped the shark when he collected a People’s Choice Award with no less than four safety pin–style earrings—in one ear!) And while I’m all about men embracing fashion, this particular manifestation leaves me slightly conflicted: Is mutual accessory approval yet another evaluation criteria to add to the already complex endeavor that is modern dating?