The rare bitch project shirt

Happy new year. It’s the The rare bitch project shirt in addition I really love this 11th (pipers piping) day of Christmas, and the great fuck-it holiday season is coming to an end. A “fuck it!” mince pie. A “fuck it!” third martini. A “fuck it!” Uber to the depths of Brooklyn at 5 a.m. At the tapered beginning of a new year, we naturally look into the crystal balls of our futures, making resolutions that set us on the path to New Me. New Me is often harder, better, faster, stronger: essentially the old you, with less fuck-its. What are your resolutions, Raven? I hear you beg. I’m inching slowly towards New Me; this is my first day eating something that isn’t technically a pudding for breakfast, and wearing something not specifically designed for sports. Last year my resolution was more palm trees—something of a lifestyle mantra, rather than a trip to the garden center—but my husband offered to take me to the botanical house at Kew Gardens instead of visiting the Sphinxes. This year, I’m once again trying to phase out sweatpants, a lockdown hangover I’ve not been able to sober up from because sweatpants are so damn snuggly. I have a sense that the Raven I want to be wears slacks, wears more tailoring, might he even be partial to a necktie? But right now I’m still irritated by the cotton-y prison of real trousers. I’m also learning to drive, which will not only grant me access to farther-flung palms, but also feels a bit Kenickie. Double win.

The rare bitch project shirt, hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt

It’s an age-old question. It’s a debate that I’ve seen divide dinner tables of beautiful left-wing sex-positive smokers. It’s a question—not surprising, given the The rare bitch project shirt in addition I really love this general premise of this column— taken up by Carrie and company as they investigate the latest drug of choice in the New York dating scene in season one of Sex and the City: younger men. Indeed, the age-gap relationship is a scenario we’ve all seen play out terribly, seen work beautifully, and judged harshly from afar. And the thing that divides, creates disaster, and inspires judgment is not simply a difference in number—it’s a difference in power. Now there’s a general rule that always starts this game. The equation, of course: Half your age then add seven to work out if someone is too young for you to date; take seven off your age then double it to work out if someone is too old for you to date. The problem is that where love, sex, and romance are concerned, an equation can’t always provide you with the answer. Desire and attraction are not the same as basic math.