D A M S E L

Retro Housing: Female-Only Residences

If you have a dream of moving to New York, there’s a good chance it’s accompanied by some sort of unattainable, celluloid-inspired fantasy involving women like Carrie Bradshaw, Whitney Port and Monica Geller.

But if you’re more of a Peggy Olsen, Sylvia Plath, Grace Kelly kind of gal, consider the retro appeal of a women-only residence. I’m not saying get thee to a nunnery. I’m saying get thee to the best housing deal in New York City.

Women's apartments were a staple of 1950s New York for ladies hoping to get famous, employed or married and they still exist today, complete with supervisor. The Webster, for example, on West 34th St. goes for $1,000 per month. You get a single room, shared bath, hot breakfast and dinner, maid service, and the use of a walled garden and a roof deck. 

Dudes are persona non grata, but in The Webster, you can entertain your guy in the “beau parlor,” an alcove with a loveseat and a coffee table. Also, curfews no longer exist and there's a security detail, so you'll feel comfortable rolling in at 3 a.m.

But the best thing about lady tenements might just be the company you keep. Residents are mostly women in their twenties and, judging by this rich New York Times article, they’ll likely be an interesting bunch (think Anna Sui intern, aspiring actress, UN worker).

Would you do sorority living in the city? —No. 26

[Photo: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times]

Stop Straight Marriage Now

Maine voters showed their hate stripes last night, voting to repeal a law that allowed gay people to marry. This only makes me that much more confident in my decision as a straight woman* to just say no to marriage. Why embrace an institution that's tangled up in the government and the gods?

This is logic I put aside at a gay rights march in NYC last year, where I went with a candle and a glimmer of hope to stand up for my fellow people. Even if I didn't fancy marriage, all Americans should be afforded the same rights. Plus, yelling Hey hey, ho ho, homophobia's got to go! in a cop's earshot is, generally, a good time.

But now I'm back to square one: So fed up and disgusted by what marriage means to people in this country (man and wife, tradition) that I'm once again finding it difficult to want to fight for anyone's right to marry. I'm compelled, instead, to fight for the end of marriage as a right at all.

At the very least, I feel the need to pull a Brad Pitt and shame straight people out of tying the knot until all people are allowed to do it. Seriously, unless you've already dropped 15K-plus to throw your wedding, take off that engagement ring and declare yourself single-but-committed until further notice.

As for married people, how about staging a mass divorce-filing? Before we know it, the multi-billion-dollar wedding industry will be a gay rights lobbyist. —No. 25

*with the occasional lesbian fantasy, of course

One Tree Hill's Lady Stoner Episode

Double X recently theorized that women are averse to legalizing weed because “we just don’t have any strong pot-loving women role models.” I don’t know that ladies need female druggie mentors to convince them to fire up the bong or fight for a cause they believe in, but DX’s charge that stoner flicks conjure a “no girls allowed” drug culture are right on—just try naming 10 iconic lady potheads.

So you can imagine my surprise—and satisfaction—when I flipped on the CW’s primetime masterpiece One Tree Hill to find a stoner storyline devoted to Haley, Quinn and Brooke. To summarize: While the men were off camping, the women had a girl’s night in. Quinn brought over Haley’s favorite special brownies and fed them to her unsuspecting sister (how this woman went through four years of college without being exposed to edibles is hard to fathom).

The night proceeded with token marijuana references (getting the munchies, paranoia, chattiness) and the odd but drug-friendly introduction of a psychic, a bunny rabbit, a thunderstorm and hiding under a blanket with a broom. All things considered (including the fact that this show has overstayed its TV welcome), this episode worked. And for once, clichéd stoner culture felt new again. —No. 26

[Pot hijinks begin at 1:00]

Best Auto-Tune Ever: Subtle Sexuality

Dunder Mifflin's Kelly Kapoor makes music history. 'Nuff said:

[Subtle Sexuality]

Birth Control's Super Scary Past

No, these are not the loofahs of yore or blush applicators of yesteryear. These here thingabobs, to quote The Little Mermaid, are the original Today’s Sponge, as seen in Newsweek.com’s slideshow The Evolution of Birth Control.

This look back at pregnancy prevention signifies one of those instances where vintage is not cool. It looks like the hole pluggers above were just fished out of the ocean. More likely, they were sprung from a basin of lemon juice or vinegar, the early twentieth-century’s spermicide du jour. And don't get me started on the glass IUDs or the chastity belts with the pin-sized pee hole. It’s a lot wrap your mind (or your lady parts) around.

See more artifacts after the jump—and let us know if you suddenly get the urge to hug your birth control pill packet.

—No. 26

Ginormous Breasts Offend China

A tiny lady with enormous breasts is apparently causing a big stir in China—and, no, the newly implanted Amy Winehouse is not on "holiday" in the People's Republic. The top-heavy troublemaker is merely a sculpture of an eight-inch chick with funbags a katrillion times her size.

According to this article, young girls have broken down in tears over the display, fearing they too will grow those "huge things." To which we'd respond: It's possible, but chances are yours won't have nearly as perky nipples—and they will have stretch marks.

As for how this is affecting boys, one mom is quoted as saying: "The park used to be a great place for families, but now what attracts my son the most is the huge breasts. I have tried to educate him with some scientific knowledge, but all he thinks when he sees the statue are smutty thoughts." To which we'd respond: He was thinking those thoughts before he saw this sculpture. That's kinda the point.  —No. 25

[via Ananova]

Type A Yogis Strike a Pose

A funny thing happened on the way to Couch Potato Hall of Fame: I discovered yoga. My transformation from doubter to devotee was swift. I like the gentle approach to fitness (no whistles, weights or whirring machines), the Mona Lisa smiles, the oms and namastes. Then just as I’m about to reread my college copy of the Bhagavad Gita (yes, spiritual stretching has really got my number), I see New York Mag’s video of this week’s yoga asana competition. It’s like the contortion Olympics. If you’ve ever willed someone out of Tree pose or smirked at the gal shaking in her Warrior I, this crowd’s for you. Sure, it’s inspirational to see someone nail Lord of the Dance, but watching yogis parade on stage like body building champions is not why come to the mat every week. Still, it makes for some good entertainment. —No. 26

Rihanna and Adam Lambert: Kindred Covers

Cover art for Rihanna's upcoming album, Rated R, and Adam Lambert's highly-anticipated debut, For Your Entertainment were both unveiled today—and the similarities are uncanny! Vote for the artist who you think pulled off the dominatrix-hand-on-cheek, mysterious-head-tilt, long-hawk-hair and eye-makeup-madness the best. OMG, look, even their earrings are the same shape. —No. 25

   

Disney Princes Have No Brains

This Disney Princesses Deconstructed image states the obvious: Disney wants little girls to know they're sex objects and damsels in distress—not, you know, future leaders of America.

But it got us thinking: The Mickey creator didn't really paint his men in the best light either. In fact, we'd say the Disney dudes are, for the most part, pathetic, vapid, laughable, needy characters. The Princes Deconstructed:

 

(click to enlarge)

—No. 25

Fun with Menstrual Cycles

Memo
To: NIH, CDC or whomever handles the anatomy posters hanging in the doctor’s office
From: Women Everywhere
Re: Menstrual cycles

We do not typically enjoy looking at anatomy posters, especially ones that deal with our lady parts. They’re ugly and unimaginative and hard to grasp. Okay, they're terrifying. But then we saw this:

It’s like the storyboard for an action film, the next classic board game, art for an emo teen's bedroom! And then there was this (one woman's explanation of her monthly trip to hell):

You see where we’re going with this? We propose a redesign (a la the Food Pyramid or the Choking Victim poster) for all those blind-making diagrams about uteri and periods. It would make a kickass contest. Just think of all the sponsorship opportunities for Tampax and Motrin. —No. 26

[Via Jezebel]