Glossed Over

According to Allure and Michael Kors, I Am Not a Woman

Have you read Michael Kors' "Ten Things Every Woman Should Have," from the October issue of Allure? This list did not please me, and it’s not because I only own a single thing on it. 

For starters, there's the concept. Be real, Allure: This is a shopping list. Ninety percent of this list is stuff you can buy in a store--including, shockingly enough, multiple items bearing Kors' name! Presenting this as essential advice on womanhood is flat-out lying. 

Then you've got your standard being-a-woman-is-expensive song and dance. Apparently being female requires owning luxury goods. Oops! I guess I am not a woman!

Throw in the icky paternalistic implications of a man dictating how to be a woman and a smarmy, classist tone, and what do you get? 

Pretty much exactly what you'd expect. Here's the list:

1. A red T. Anthony duffel bag. What does the T. stand for? "The Owner of This Bag is Female," obviously, because there’s no better marker of womanhood than a $375 bag. Right?

2. Michael Kors python ankle boots. Indeed. Every woman should have $1,345 to spend on boots! And then she should take that cash and buy, like, 17 pairs of boots instead. 

3. The Audrey Hepburn Couture Muse collection of DVDs. Being a woman involves emulating another woman, apparently. (Also? This is "required viewing" for Kors' employees.)

4. White roses, which he says are the "LBD of flowers." At last, a fashion trope more annoying than "[color of the moment] is the new black"! Kors orders from a fancy florist, but allows that the "corner deli is fine" for the rest of us. Isn't that generous?

5. Clarins Radiance-Plus Golden Glow Body Lotion. Because real women look like they've just returned from a tropical vacation. Duh.

6. A Slim Aarons photography book. I had no idea what the picture of a 1960 Stowe, Vermont, ski lodge included in the article had to do with being a woman until I looked up Slim Aarons in Wikipedia and learned his modus operandi was "photographing attractive people doing attractive things in attractive places." Which sounds suspiciously like a fashion magazine, does it not?

7. A Michael Kors silver cuff, for the woman who "can’t afford an amazing piece of modern sculpture." Wow. Between the "corner deli" crack and this, he’s making a real case for a peasants' revolt (not to mention promoting that fashion-as-investment nonsense). But wait! It gets better worse!

8. An African safari. Kors says, "The circle of life is not just in a Broadway show." How would we plebeians know? Has this guy seen the price of Broadway tickets lately? But seriously: this is shocking, disgusting snobbery.

9. A sense of humor. Yes! I agree! I wish men had one too! Especially when they’re asked to make lists about how women should be!

10. Another $$$ Michael Kors product that I can’t even be bothered to type out.

You know, there's been a lot of talk about class war lately. I'm no economics expert, but I have to consider whether lists like this contribute to the growing divide in the United States between rich and poor. When it comes to Michael Kors, that divide goes beyond the stuff he's selling, the visible markers of affluence. Even allowing that his comments about the "circle of life" were surely intended to be cheeky and his note about deli flowers meant to be inclusive, condescension is a critical part of the package. He's positioning luxury items not as fashion accessories but as indicators of exclusivity, superiority, and sophistication.

Adding that to the "Things Every Woman Should Own" conceit only makes it worse. According to this article, being a woman requires buying luxury brands and looking down my nose at those who can't or won't buy the same. Is that really the best modern womanhood can aspire to? Michael Kors, I will never be your woman.

Is Elle Bad for Women? Elle Editor Says No

The August edition of Elle is out, but I’m still chewing on the “Editor’s Letter” from the July issue, wherein editor-in-chief Roberta Myers defends herself and the magazine. The charge: is women’s media harmful to women?

If you guessed that Myers said “no,” congratulations! Here’s her inauspicious start:

On May 3, I went on the Today show, and in a segment about the winds of change blowing down last season’s runways, I uttered the words “[Elle Macpherson] is not a skinny girl.” Not skinny as in, not one of the anorexic, near-dead models that Ann Curry and I had just been talking about… How ironic that I was actually praising the presence of an almost 50-year-old demonstrably busty and athletic woman as a hopeful sign in an industry where the models have always been way too skinny (read: underweight).

This might be an understandable explanation if Elle had never taken part in the industry tradition of using “way too skinny” models, and if comparing favorably to a “near-dead” model were a meaningfully positive evaluation. Is that how low the bar is now?

“Well, Roberta, she’s definitely still among the living. I even held a mirror in front of her face and detected exhalation!”

“She'll look great in the new Vuitton. Let’s book her!”

[The furor that erupted following her statement] was about what it was about 15 years ago, when I was an editor at Seventeen, and 10 years ago, when I was an editor at Mirabella: In the “who’s responsible for my self-hating body image” debate, there’s no debate at all.

That’s because, in the “who’s responsible for portraying pre-menarche girls as the pinnacle of female achievement” debate, there’s no debate at all.

As New York blogger Amy Odell put it, magazines for women “make us feel bad about ourselves.” I wrote to Amy, hoping she might…explore that a little bit on assignment, but she never wrote me back. Alas.

If only there were more than one blogger who might explain this! If Amy isn’t available, I certainly am.

Why do images of women who are prettier, slimmer, younger, darker, lighter, smaller, taller seem like an affront to our self-worth?

Oh, only because they’re used to point out how flawed we are in comparison, and then sell us products to fix ourselves.

And would self-esteem generally rise were models to look more like the rest of us—5’4” and 165 pounds, the current build of the average American woman?

Um, YES. Obviously.

It’s curious to me that there’s still a belief that the media puts too much pressure on women to be thin, because as a measure of influence it’s an utter failure: The average woman has added 20 pounds to her frame in less than 30 years. More than one third of adult American women are obese, a medically devastating (and expensive) condition.

Hey, did you hear that? It’s the death knell of print media. Isn't the publishing industry’s profit model entirely predicated upon influencing readers and then peddling that power to advertisers?

But seriously: It’s curious to me that Myers ignores the increasing amount of research that being overweight is not necessarily an indicator of poor health. And that the relative affordability of processed and fast foods and the sluggish economy might have more to do with the general rise in the population’s weight than her magazine. And that Elle vacillates between influential and ineffectual depending on whether it suits her argument.

The attractive people favored by media as a whole—movies, TV, magazines, websites—can seem oppressive at times, though they do reflect this truth: Good-looking people get attention.

While this may be true, it also ignores that, beyond the fashion industry, there is no universally accepted definition of “good-looking.” Any model who deviates from the youthful, emaciated standard is shoved into a story about camouflaging those flaws or becomes an excuse for a magazine to onanistically praise its own open-mindedness. Which, you know, could "seem oppressive."

As we grow up and out into the world, how much does the presence of women who have more of whatever it is (brains, success, piano-playing ability) that bothers us about ourselves really hurt us? ...as an adult I realized it felt good to be told I was attractive. And it didn’t diminish my accomplishments one bit.

In other words: “I don’t have self-esteem issues, so I don’t understand why anyone else would. And I’m not publishing this in a national magazine because I feel the need to prove anything.”

And it’s a fair question to ask if media is setting, or reflecting, the cultural norms. Feminism allows us to be, pursue, remake ourselves however we like, so it’s challenging to consider what’s the right amount of “change” advice (let’s not call it improvement) for Elle to offer...

You know, I'm loath to make any kind of definitive statement about the nature of feminism, but I’m going to have to go out on a limb here: I’m pretty sure feminism doesn’t exist so we can “be, pursue, remake ourselves” according to Elle’s high-priced doctrine. It’s so we can “be, pursue, remake ourselves” as anything we want. Anything! Even, say, equal to men, whose magazines—last I checked—don’t contain nearly as many condescending explanations of why their readers’ feelings are totally unjustified.

Do we think that if Elle and the rest of “women’s” media stopped running stories about the latest skin saver, we’re all stop caring about our faces?

Scare quotes and a straw man.

And if the average model (under 20, 5’10”, and 124 pounds) were suddenly replaced by a 35-year-old five-footer, would we no longer find the leggy teenager beautiful?

Is there a reason we can't have both? Because—this might blow your mind—we could find them both beautiful.

Yes, we love [the musicians in this issue] for the way they look! And for the way they sing, write, perform, and otherwise rock our worlds. In every way, I flunk by comparison. And the world is so much more interesting for it.

Wait, so Myers admits to feeling inferior in comparison to these women...when that’s the same attitude she decried earlier.

Admittedly, it’s a daunting task to justify the existence of an entire industry. And while I don’t think anyone expects Myers to launch an all-out attack on her own livelihood and, like, immediately cease Elle’s publication, it isn’t unreasonable to hope for a genuine attempt to answer the fashion industry's critics. Instead, we get clichés, contradictions, and almost zero acknowledgment of magazines’  role in promoting the outrage that inspired Myers’ response. Women’s magazines can't speak for all women, but it would be a vast improvement if they at least tried to speak to us.

Related: Elle Editor Goes on the Offensive, Gets "Real"

Allure's Rhyming, Sexist Ode to the Women of Fox News

Dear Allure:

Just because David DeNicolo wrote a rhyming ode to the women of Fox News doesn’t mean you had to publish it. Was there a point to this other than blatantly objectifying and belittling the network’s female on-air talent?

The slideshow (apparently not at all ironically called "Fox News Anchors: Hot or Not?") is introduced with a lengthy verse that includes this reminder of what’s really important in television news:

Sure, Rachel Maddow has the smarts

But can she work her giggly parts?

Wait, let me point out even more flagrant objectification before I lose consciousness in a rage blackout. This is about Martha MacCallum:

The TV lights catch every facet;
Golden domes are quite an asset.

And this couplet manages to both infantilize and leer at Jamie Colby, and top it off with a creepy reference to incest. Quel accomplishment!

The dress so short, the smile so glad—
Is that her cohost or her dad?

Oh, hey, did you know all you have to do to be a woman on Fox News is sit on a couch?

Further rightward daily lurching,

On a sofa deftly perching.

I’d normally be the first one to decry the journalistic standards at Fox News, but I'm quite certain being a TV anchor involves at least slightly more intelligence, talent, and effort than “deftly perching” on upholstery.

This could have been an interesting launching point to explore the double standards in television news. (No, that jab at Rachel Maddow doesn’t count.) It could have been a beauty article about makeup techniques or fashion styling for television, which would be well within Allure's purview. It might have even included men!

Instead, it's just blindingly sexist, ill-conceived, and unfunny, which is strange, considering a publication targeted toward women would theoretically want to avoid disparaging them. But times are tight in print media, so I guess Allure is trying to expand its appeal—to chauvinists and jerks. I hear they buy a lot of magazines.

No love,

Glossed Over

Thanks to reader Annie for the tip. As she said in her email, "Oh hell naw."

Karl Lagerfeld in Bazaar: Feminists Are Ugly

From “What Would Coco Do” in the September issue of Bazaar, wherein designer Karl Lagerfeld was asked to “channel the original fashion wit,” Coco Chanel:

HB: Your clothing liberated women in the 1920s. Are you still a feminist?

CC: I was never a feminist because I was never ugly enough for that.

Did your jaw just drop in disbelief? Mine did, too.

So, according to Karl-as-Coco, feminists are ugly. And it’s not just that they’re unattractive—it’s their very lack of pulchritude that made them resort to feminism. What constitutes “ugly enough”? Who knows? When I decided to call myself a feminist, it’s not like I was forced to parade around in a bathing suit before a panel of judges who determined whether I was unappealing enough to do so.

In Monsieur Lagerfeld’s Magical Gender Equity Utopia, beautiful women apparently have no need for feminism. Which is an awesome fantasy for genetic-lottery winners, but I’d rather live in a world where my worth isn’t directly proportionate to how closely I conform to whatever happens to be in style this week. I know, I must be ugly and insane!

Other than being a blatant insult to feminists, Lagerfeld’s attitude is troubling because it forces women into a game we can’t win. Within this rubric, a gorgeous woman’s sole quality is her appearance; and an average woman’s intelligence or insight is nullified by her embrace of feminism.

The end result: our only worth is the way we look. How’s that for ugly?

What W Really Thinks About Women's Bodies

This is model Lara Stone on the cover of the August issue of W.

 

This is Lara Stone modeling inside that same issue.

And this is Lara Stone in her underwear, also from the August issue.

These are some of the terms used to describe Lara Stone in the editor's letter and the article “Fashion’s It Girl”:

• “a little meat on her bones” (W’s deputy editor, Julie L. Belcove)
• “voluptuous frame”  (the article’s author, Sarah Haight)
• “a mix of a warrior and Brigitte Bardot” (designer Isabel Marant)
• “her body…a refreshing aesthetic shift away from the prepubescent boy figure that has lately dominated fashion” (Haight)
• “big, bad and beautiful” (photographer Bruce Weber)

And this is how Lara Stone describes her own body:

“A lot of people say it’s nice to see someone who won’t break in half when you touch them,” she says… “But I am still a woman and a person, and if you’re compared and confronted with your colleagues, and they’re all half your size, you think, F---, I’m really fat! And then on other days, I’m like, Oh, I’m not that bad.”

“Not that bad”? A woman who makes money posing in her underwear is “not that bad”?

The fashion industry—and, in turn, the fashion media—have such a warped concept of slimness that a model like Lara Stone is so much larger than her contemporaries that they feel the need to explain her presence. If Stone’s body is such an outlier, what does that say about the rest of us?

Worse, the magazine saw fit to issue the disclaimer that Stone “is, it should be noted, a very lithe five foot ten.” Why, yes, do note that! As if there’s the slightest chance someone is going to look at these photos and think Stone needs to, like, slow down on the Cheetos.

The article mentions multiple times that her look is a modeling-world anomaly. And that gives editors, photographers, and designers the chance to explain why they hired her—which is really just a whole lot of self-congratulatory masturbation about how open-minded they are, like they have to somehow justify (to us!) casting a woman whose ribs don't poke out above her cleavage. Yeah, they’re real body-image mavericks. What a revolution. If they truly believed that Stone’s shape is so enviable, why the need for justification? If the “meat on her bones” is so praiseworthy, why don’t we see more models with “meat”?

Her figure may be in vogue, but the rest of us have to live with our bodies no matter what magazines deem the ideal shape of the moment. Perhaps the industry could stop treating Stone like a freakshow long enough to realize how very hypocritical it is to praise her curves and how insulting it is to us when they’re compelled to rationalize featuring a woman with hips and a bustline. We have those. We get it.

Clearly, the fashion industry doesn’t.

Related: The Language of Magazines: Is “Curvy” Completely Meaningless?

A Rant: Miley Cyrus, Thigh-High Boots, and the Fetishization of Youth

Oh no! Miley Cyrus looks vaguely mature in the August edition of Elle—cue the outrage!

At 16, is Miley too young to be posing “provocatively,” as she does in this feature? Riddle me this,  universe: what is the proper age to don thigh-high boots and a push-up bra in a national publication? Can you imagine the uproar if Elle had photographed an older woman, say Helen Mirren or Judi Dench, in similar attire?

Our culture has fetishized youth. We worship it. Women undergo surgery and inject toxins into their faces to maintain lineless complexions. They wax their nether regions to a pre-pubescent smoothness. Youth and attractiveness are coveted and prized to an insane extent, but a young woman wearing form-fitting black clothes—you know, being youthful and sexy—is somehow crossing a line? Forgive me if I find Botox a far more insidious force than Hannah Montana’s cleavage. 

Sure, these photos aren’t exactly congruent with the squeaky-clean way she’s normally packaged. But so what? Is it so shocking that, at 16, she might want to be portrayed in the media in a more adult fashion? After all, she's been working full-time for years. In many ways, she is an adult. And didn’t we all spend significant portions of our teen years trying really desperately to be viewed as grown-ups?

I'd much rather see a teen star wearing sophisticated clothes in an attempt to look sexy and mature than following that time-honored tradition of posing in lingerie for Maxim. (Hello, double standard! Where are the pictures of Justin Timberlake stripping to prove his readiness to move beyond boy bands?)

All that said, I'm troubled by the pervasive conflation of sexuality with maturity. Can't we have the "not a kid anymore" story without the requisite trying-hard-to-be-risqué photo shoot? (Sorry, Elle. It's just so predictable.) Even so, the downright hypocrisy of a society that so treasures sex appeal but condemns women for cultivating it is far more damaging than a glimpse of Miley’s decolletage ever will be.

Cosmopolitan Doesn’t Want You to Die Alone

Most of the women I know who read Cosmopolitan say that it’s escapist entertainment—just a trifle to take their minds off everyday worries. I find that confounding, because not a month passes without a multi-page feature about how a young woman was murdered/raped/abducted/afflicted with an incurable disease—and how it could happen to anyone. Even you. Especially you!

The May issue fulfills this requirement with “Read This Before You Live Alone,” which begins soberly:

Life without roommates—for many young women, it’s near the top of their wish list. But living solo also can up your risk of break-ins and assaults.

Well, that seems perfectly reasonable. Safety is a major concern for most women, and we’ve been told our entire lives that being alone makes us more vulnerable.

But is that actually the case? Who knows? Although there are plenty of statistics about crimes against women in their homes included here, there isn’t a shred of evidence in the article that confirms women living alone are more likely to be victims.

And of the four victims mentioned, only one, TV anchor Anne Presley, is specifically described as having her own place.

…[Presley’s murder] implied a danger that confronts everyone—not just a semipublic figure—and perhaps single women living alone most of all. Rather than sharing an apartment with roommates, Anne was enjoying a life most women in their mid-20s lust after: She was rising in her career and successful enough to afford privacy.

What’s the implication here, Cosmo? That a woman must choose between financial success and personal security? There’s even an entire paragraph devoted to explanations that Presley lived in one of the “most affluent” neighborhoods in Little Rock, “not far from the Little Rock Country Club,” and surrounded by “wealthy neighbors.” Good luck, then, if you live in one of those “divey place[s] in a borderline neighborhood”!

Convinced to have roommates forever? Take a look at the next page:

5 Things Not to Put Off Until You’re In a Relationship

1.    Buying a home

Oh, so paying the mortgage alone doesn’t qualify you to live alone. Excellent.

Well, then, what is safe to do alone? In “50 Things to Do Naked,” the magazine suggests such life-affirming activities as watching Arrested Development on DVD, applying a deep-conditioning treatment, or arranging flowers while solo (and nude). Really.

In the event that moving some roses around in a vase doesn’t assuage your concerns, “Read This” does conclude with a helpful admonition:

One last thing: Don’t drive yourself crazy.

And that, at least, is easily accomplished. Step one: stop reading Cosmo.

Why There Are No Good Answers to Glamour's "Am I Normal?"

Maybe I missed the announcement, but is Glamour now being aimed at teen girls? In the years I’ve been reading it, it’s transformed from a level-headed publication that was a truly a source of inspiration to one that includes features called “Am I Normal?” and “Hey, It’s OK…” every month, obsessively declaring what’s “normal” in an attempt to reassure me that my behavior is Glamour-approved! It’s like the opposite of aspirational.

I might care about the magazine’s approval if I were still 14 and desperately trying to please the entire planet by being pretty, polite, and otherwise unremarkable. But when these articles are ostensibly written for adult women, declaring what’s acceptable for all of us is simply patronizing. Just because Glamour has the inside track on new eyeshadow colors doesn’t make it an oracle about anything else.

For instance: According to the April issue, it’s normal to marry a man for money…as long as he’s worth at least $1.1 million! And it’s okay for construction workers to leer at us on the street, because we women secretly enjoy it! While the magazine intends these as reassurances, it has the opposite effect: instead of convincing me that other women feel the same way, I have to wonder if I’m the only one who is enraged by catcalls. Am I? Go on, expel me from the sorority now.

(Never mind the totally hypocritical focus on normalcy when this issue also canonizes women who were decidedly extraordinary, like Amelia Earhart and Dolores Huerta. But then, Glamour’s idea of a tribute to these women is to dress actresses like Hayden Panettiere in crazy expensive clothes. Because, you know, Rosie the Riveter went to work so that she could buy herself some Dolce & Gabbana.)

This overweening harping on normalcy is even more insidious than the thinly veiled insults that pepper the pages of Vogue and Bazaar—the women in those magazines, with their jutting rib cages and designer ensembles, inhabit a completely different universe than I do. But Glamour’s attempt to reinforce its perceptions of the average woman’s everyday behavior marginalizes us in an equally significant way. It’s one thing to be told to “invest” thousands in a Balenciaga bag; it’s quite another to be told that your views on sex or money or work, topics you deal with every day, are unusual or wrong. The magazine’s efforts to reinforce what is “normal” becomes just another box for us women to squeeze into, just another set of unreasonable standards we’re supposed to adhere to. I don’t see how the encouragement to live up to everyone else’s expectations helps any woman exceed her own.

Vogue's Power Issue Is Less Than Empowering

I have a terrible cold, and it won't go away. Still, there's an upside to being home sick: plenty of time to read magazines! If there’s one person who can shake me from my Nyquil-induced stupor, it’s Anna Wintour. In an attempt to distract myself from the vanishing likelihood of breathing through my nose before Labor Day, I decided to flip through the March issue of Vogue.

Wintour’s monthly “Letter from the Editor” is, predictably, the usual attempt to make the magazine seem relevant by employing the most tenuous of connections to link fashion to a prodigious list of the planet’s ills. For instance: did you know that refraining from buying clothes is indefensible? Your inability to afford designer clothing is why people are losing their jobs! I'm not making this up.

Then, explaining that this is the “Power Issue,” Wintour runs through the list of women who receive considerable space in its pages: Michelle Obama. Carla Bruni Sarkozy. Queen Rania of Jordan. Melinda Gates.

And, not mentioned by Wintour, but appearing in a lengthy profile shortly after her letter, Silda Wall Spitzer.

Notice anything about that list of women? They’re all primarily known for—and because of—the men they married.

In no way do I mean to downplay or diminish the individual accomplishments of these women, all of whom are intelligent and successful in their own right. And I’m not suggesting that there be never be any mention of profile subjects’ personal lives. After all, if that were the case, how would Vogue manage its annual Jennifer Aniston sobfest?

I am suggesting that they include more women whose notability is their own. (To be fair, this issue also contains an article about Twilight author Stephenie Meyer—significantly shorter than the other profiles—and the usual smattering of celebrities and fashion-world types.) When the majority of ink in the "Power Issue" is devoted to women whose renown and influence streams heavily from their spouses, Vogue is either making a cynical observation about the state of women today or telling us that a woman's greatest accomplishment is landing a successful husband.

Not that I expect Vogue to become a serious source of inspiration. But it could be worse—this issue also contains hundreds of words about the apparently transformative powers of Plum Sykes' haircut. I'll take a story about a famous wife over the tale of a woman whose life revolves around her own appearance any day.

Cosmopolitan: Sports Fans, Prepare to Be Single Forever

This Saturday, as I have done most every Saturday this autumn, I spent three and a half hours watching football. (My team won!) Cosmopolitan would have me believe this is a bad thing.

In “Ask Him Anything” in the December issue, the magazine’s “guy guru” tackles a question from a reader who loves sports and hanging out with guys but can’t find love. What’s the problem, exactly? His answer:

Most men prefer women who paint their toenails, not their faces.

Because you can’t possibly be interested in both? And a man would never want to be with a woman who doesn’t use cosmetics at all?

We like being teased about our sports fandom and our excessive beer consumption, and we in turn (secretly) like the fact that girls enjoy more feminine pursuits like shopping or…even more shopping.

Speaking of football, I should probably get myself a helmet, because reading stuff like this makes me want to tackle someone. Where do I even start? The compilation of ludicrous assumptions in this statement is maddening. Let me see if I have this straight:

1. Shopping is inherently feminine.

2. Shopping is the sole thing women are capable of, apparently, since this guy can’t come up with a single other hobby that a woman might be interested in. Never mind that the pastimes enjoyed by women are often the same ones men like! And really, if this guy was just going to spout stereotypes, he couldn't come up with knitting? Yoga? Book group? Can we please get some credit for devoting brain cells to something other than our appearances?

3. Men do not enjoy shopping.

4. Women cannot enjoy both sports and shopping.

5. Men secretly approve of the very things they dismiss as feminine and therefore unworthy of their attention. I’m no psychiatrist, but I think any therapist would have a field day with that.

Common interests are terrific, and we’re psyched when you know what a touchdown is,

Mr. Answer Man is also psyched that his ladyfriend can, like, walk upright and sign her full name without checking her driver’s license.

but that doesn’t mean we want to high-five you every time our favorite team scores one.

…Just know that, contrary to what your buddies tell you, it might take a little longer to find that special someone while you’re waving a gigantic foam hand in the air.

Right, because there are no single men at football games and sports bars!

Just like different athletic leagues have different rules, everything changes once you manage to find a man who approves of your makeup-wearing, sports-shunning ways. When you’re in a committed relationship, says Cosmo, it’s time to give up the mall and settle in on autumn Saturdays and Sundays.

From “Smart Girlfriend Behavior: Do This, Not That” just twelve pages prior to “Ask Him Anything”:

Watch the game with his friends. Spending an afternoon on the couch with his pals says you’re easygoing and cool…and he’ll appreciate your making an effort to get to know his boys.

So watching the game isn't about doing something you enjoy—it's about making your man happy! The article goes on to advise against cheering loudly, chugging beer, and telling off-color jokes.

Let's put it this way: it's really hard for him to be sexually attracted to someone who reminds him of his buddies.

Clearly, Cosmo also thinks it’s impossible for him to be attracted to someone who shares his interests, skips makeup, or acts in any way like the people he spends most of his time with. No wonder Cosmopolitan is so obsessed with getting it on—from their perspective, sex is the only thing both men and women would be interested in.