Exactly one year ago, I wrote an article on the minds behind HashtagAdamandSteve, Adam George and Steven Hilliard. Over this year, I have had the pleasure to hang out with the duo at their various events across the city. From Taco Belles at The Mule to hosting RuPaul’s Drag Race contestants at Absinthe, you’re always guaranteed a good time at an Adam and Steve event.
Within the past year, George and Hilliard have gone from planning two queer-focused events per month in Hamilton, to five or six events per month. One of their key events have included a show with Thorgy Thor in February 2019, marking the first Ru-girl within the city; the fourth annual Drag Wars; the first Hamilton Pride party at Absinthe; and the first all-Hamilton drag showcase, Hamilton Is A Drag.
“When we first sat down with [the Silhouette], we were bringing really awesome friends of ours from Toronto that were drag performers because there really wasn’t any that were well known in Hamilton . . . and now there is,” said Hilliard.
The rise in popularity for Hamilton-based drag was a big deal for the pair. Their events provide opportunities for local Hamilton drag kings and queens to perform within their own city, instead of having to travel elsewhere to find a gig.
Although my previous article referred to George and Hilliard as queer event planners, the duo hasn’t used this term for a while.
“I feel like as we’ve grown, we take [advocacy] more seriously in knowing that we have a responsibility to do it right,” said George.
George and Hilliard have turned their focus towards filling Hamilton with safer spaces for the queer community.
“For a long time, the idea of a safe space was like a bad word to some people. They thought going to a safe space was them hiding away from other people. I don’t think it feels like that anymore, because people are realizing that those spaces can exist and still be fun, open and not isolated,” said Hilliard.
Hilliard went on to explain that many of the city’s bars are opening up to the idea of becoming safe, queer-positive spaces. George and Hilliard did not expect this reaction from local businesses.They recalled a time when it was hard to get owners to host their queer events. Now they’ve partnered with approximately seven spaces across Hamilton including Absinthe, The Mule, and Arcade, to name a few.
This change in focus led the duo to remove “event planning/party specialists” from their logo, as they felt those words did not fit their mission any longer.
“Adam and Steve, I think as a concept, has evolved a bit more because we’re not just doing parties. Now, we’re part of the City of Hamilton,” said George.
George and Hilliard have partnered with Tourism Hamilton to sell their “Keeping Hamilton Queer” shirts with proceeds going to the Hamilton Aids Network. The pair believe that it is important to give back to the queer community, especially since they hold a highly regarded platform not just within the community, but also in the greater Hamilton area.
They also were asked to speak at a training event for city staff in which George, Hilliard and others who formed a diversity panel, discussed how to make Hamilton a more inclusive city. George and Hilliard recognize that they do not speak for the entire queer community, but due to the platform they have ammased, they want to raise up other people’s voices.
“As soon as we were asked [to speak at the event] we said very clearly to the organizer that we just wanted to be clear that we don’t speak for the entire community. We’re just one perspective and one voice in a very large [community] with our own experience. We would never pretend to [speak for them] because everyone has a different lived experience,” said Hilliard.
“As soon as we were asked [to speak at the event] we said very clearly to the organizer that we just wanted to be clear that we don’t speak for the entire community. We’re just one perspective and one voice in a very large [community] with our own experience. We would never pretend to [speak for them] because everyone has a different lived experience,” said Hilliard.
The future is bright for George and Hilliard. Due to the number of events they host, they have decided to change their name from HashtagAdamandSteve to the House of Adam and Steve. In addition, they plan to launch a new website to make learning about the Hamilton drag scene more accessible. The duo will also be hosting events in direct partnership with Tourism Hamilton.
On a more familiar note, George and Hilliard will be hosting their next Ru-girl, Detox, on March 7 at Absinthe, and will be starting their newest series, Dirty Drag Bingo with Karma Kameleon at Odds Bar (164 James St. South).
“Our parties might not be for everyone, but the point is that they’re for anyone,” said George.
The door to the House of Adam and Steve is now open for all those who are looking for a home.
This article is part of our Sex and the Steel City, our annual sex-positive issue. Click here to read more content from the special issue.
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By A. A., Contributor
I was on a study date with a couple of my close friends at a Starbucks we used to go to almost every single day. A couple guys we had met there came and sat with us to study. Skim forward a little bit, my friend, who knew I was gay, made a joke and exposed my sexuality to one of the guys.
All of a sudden, everything changed in the way he spoke, as if he was trying to alienate me. I froze.
I advocate for being proud of who you are and I do embrace my sexuality, but in that moment — I hated everything about it.
He insisted that he could “fix” me if he spent 24 hours with me. He even told my friend, who was a girl, to have sex with me. I tried a couple times explaining that being gay is not something he would ever be able to understand, it is something he needs to accept. But my words were quickly dismissed. I had no words, I did not know whether I should say anything at all. I was catching glares from a boy sitting across from us at the large table we were sitting at. It felt like a beaming hot spotlight was shining over me; like everyone was looking at me with pity, disappointment or disgust.
I felt a rush of tears come to my throat, that feeling where you are about to cry and if you say any word at all you will. After so many years of owning my sexuality, I felt isolated, alone and the odd one out all over again. I was taken back to being 12 years old, when my parents told me that I could be sent somewhere to be fixed.
I needed to leave, so I walked out and called an Uber. While waiting for my Uber I could not stop myself from breaking down.
Am I really proud of who I am? Or just around people that accept me?
I cannot stop thinking about how he won. I was not able to stand up for myself. I was not able to show him that I am me no matter what he thinks is right and wrong. Insidead, I felt so small and alienated. I am usually loud; I say what I want, when I want. I stand up for everyone’s story, but that day, I learned that I cannot stand up for my own. My own truth and who I am is fragile right now. I know they say—even I say—that being gay is just a part of me, but when that is the biggest struggle in your life, it becomes you. I am gay.
Why does it have to be so hard?
I think I have established for myself that life is not fair, but this has not been an easy lesson for me to learn—in fact, it has been the hardest. I am a 18-year-old Middle Eastern man, born and raised in a outspokenly homophobic household where religious ideals formed the foundation of my family member’s lives. But I am also gay, and discovering my own identity in such an environment was not fair.
It is not fair to grow up in an environment that shames parts of who you are before you even recognize those parts of you. It is not fair to only be able to be true to who you are around three of your friends. It is not fair to feel like your family is not going to be there forever. It is not fair to feel as though your family’s love is conditional over something you cannot control—who you are.
There is no explanation. I have no explanation for being gay so how do I explain it to someone that does not understand? Should I even try? Should I let them be ignorant? Why is it easy to stand up for someone else, but so much harder to stand up for myself? I feel like I’m proud of myself and my accomplishments but am I really proud of me—am I really proud of being gay?
I want to learn to be loud and proud but that comes with a price.
Not everyone will be supportive, not everyone will accept me as I am. I have to learn to be who I am regardless of how many times I’m discriminated against for something that is nobody’s business but my own. Before I can be loud and proud, I have to pay the emotional price of working to turn every doubt and harsh thing someone says into a reason why I will not back down from who I am.
I am who I am and that should be okay. This will be the next thing I learn.
This article is part of our Sex and the Steel City, our annual sex-positive issue. Click here to read more content from the special issue.
By Anonymous, Contributor
The idea of femininity is one that, for a long time, upset me. I remember distinctly hating to wear the dresses my family bought me. I didn’t want to be exposed. I didn’t want to perpetuate the notion of what a woman should be within society. I didn’t want to feel objectified by men, I didn’t want to be regarded as “weak”, “fragile” or “sensitive”. However, that didn’t mean I didn’t want to be noticed by men. I was “straight”, so I assumed that, as a woman, I wanted attention from men.
There have been countless times when I’ve been told by my family: “Dress nicely so that boys will notice you.” Sometimes I would cave, and I would receive the standard compliments that one would receive from a heterosexual male: “You look hot/ nice/ pretty/ beautiful.” Other times, I’d find my strength in going against the world’s expectations, and put on a suit instead. I did not receive any typical compliments, but seeing men gaze at me in half jealousy and half admiration was good enough. Afterall, I looked hot and powerful.
Boys, I wanted you to notice me—but I also wanted to be noticed for who I am, not for conforming to societal expectations of what a woman should wear.
In grade 10, I started to wear snapbacks. In grade 11, I started to wear muscle shirts. In grade 12, I started wearing suits and called myself heteroflexible. In my first year of university, I began to wear men’s t-shirts and men’s joggers. In second year, I made it a habit to check out the women’s section and the men’s section in clothing stores. I went from calling myself heteroflexible throughout my high school years, to declaring myself as bisexual in university.
Fashion, sexuality and gender expression have always been a messy knot in my brain. I frequently dress like someone who, if you took one look at me, you’d know I am not straight. Maybe you could even infer that I’m bi.
You’re told not to judge a book by its cover. But what if I want you to?
Symbolic interactionism describes how our world is made of symbols which convey meaning to the people we interact with. Fashion is the pinnacle of my interaction with the world.
Every day, what I choose to wear is a reflection of who I am. Sometimes, I want to go undetected—that’s a day for dark jeans, t-shirts and a sweater. Other times, I want to be noticed—that means wearing a suit or a dress. Other times, I feel incredibly gay and just throw on a Henley, typically a shirt for men, and men’s joggers.
Our world has always had an invisible hand in how I present myself. I am well attuned to how I dress and how that will draw different kinds of stares and gazes; however, as someone who is interested in both men and women, this has become a habit of practiced expression.
Our world has always had an invisible hand in how I present myself. I am well attuned to how I dress and how that will draw different kinds of stares and gazes; however, as someone who is interested in both men and women, this has become a habit of practiced expression.
I used to feel almost guilty about how I dressed, I never felt feminine enough for those around me. As I grew more comfortable with my sexuality, I realized that I didn’t need to dress to attract men to me. How I dress on a daily basis, with a style between androgynous and masculine, is both more comfortable for me, and the ladies like it.
I remember dressing to go to a party one night and turning to my friends saying, “I’m going to wear a crop top, because that way people know I’m a little bit of a slut. But I’m going to wear flannel shirt over that because I still want people to know I’m hella gay.”
Dressing myself is a calculated strategy. I choose my clothing carefully to convey hidden messages. Yet, sometimes I question how whether or not my acceptance of these messages contributes to perpetuating stereotypes around gender and sexuality. Stereotypes can be harmful. Actively assuming details about a person can feel intrusive, belittling and insulting. Yet, I purposely use stereotypes associated with sexuality to communicate with the world. I’ve cut my hair shorter, I wear flannel, I cuff my jeans and I keep my nails short. These are all stereotypically associated with being “bisexual” or “gay”.
Stereotypes become harmful when you actively use them to make harmful assumptions. Not every flamboyant man is gay, and you have no right to tell him he is. Not every girl with short hair is a lesbian, you don’t need to tell your friends she is.
Don’t judge a book by its cover, at least, not actively.
Yet, when I wear a French tucked t-shirt with a leather jacket with my cuffed ripped black jeans, I am trying to tell the world I am not straight. It’s me telling the world that typical compliments about my general appearance won’t woo me. Maybe compliment my graphic t-shirt with the teenage mutant ninja turtles on it, then I’ll entertain a discussion with you.
This article is part of our Sex and the Steel City, our annual sex-positive issue. Click here to read more content from the special issue.
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By Nina Joon, Contributor
Why yes, the rumours are true. I, Nina Joon, completed (finishing with a 12) my second one-night stand and I am here to shout it loud and proud. After years spent huddling under a blanket of sexual apathy, agonizing over the inevitable awkward intimacy during sex, I have finally reached a state of no-fucks-given.
As a product of both millennial and generation Z culture, I am no stranger to the supposed perils and triumphs of hook-up culture. Now, after two engagements in the action, I think it’s safe to pronounce myself as a voice of the people, offering advice and insight into this tumultuous sexy time in our young, hot 20-something year old lives. This, my friends, is an ode to the sweaty club grind-ups and confusing “booty-Facebook-message-hookups” that you’re still trying to dissect literally months after they happened.
The classic tale of a one-night stand often begins in the club, in the middle of the month, during techno night. You’re on the dance floor, body glitter sparkling from the disco ball reflection. While looking down to admire your amazing shuffling skills, you spot a pair of humbling red converse high tops with laces caked in mud. Is this a skater? Is this a longboarder? Questions cloud your mind, so you look up to see whose face belongs to these shoes. Not to your surprise, it’s an absolute cutie sipping a rare brew of Collective Arts, dancing slowly to the tempo of the music.
You nudge your friend (hereby referred to as Derby) and point to this mysterious gem nestled on the dance floor. Derby’s eyes light up in excitement.
“Aye! Good shout mate!”, they claim, confirming your feelings of attraction to “red-shoes”.
You run with that bout of validation, slyly dancing your way into red-shoes’s line of vision. The music’s pumping, your earplugs are the perfect amount of hidden; this is your moment.
“Hey, I heard it’s your birthday! Happy birthday!” you shout to cutie’s face.
To be clear, it is not their birthday, nor is there any available information that would lead to that conclusion. You just hope that the mere randomness of your comment will spark intrigue in red-shoes.
“Huh?” they respond back.
“Oh my god, sorry, haha, you look just like my friend whose birthday it is today . . . my bad!”
Red-shoes uncomfortably laughs but you feel their gaze as you dance back to Derby and continue to shuffle for a half-hour straight.
It’s getting late now and you’re wondering where this cutie has gone. Derby is on their third hook-up of the night, copping two numbers and one Instagram handle. While sipping a glass of communal water, someone taps on your shoulder. You turn to see red-shoes staring into your soul with their glassy beaming eyes.
“Hey, you’re a really good dancer”, they say.
Stunned, you quickly make a fart noise and say “Lawl, no way! Thanks! I like your um, shoes, tee-hee”.
Together you start to talk, eventually moving to a booth and then locking lips in a dark corner.
After back and forth flirty banter, during which you offered red-shoes a cherry Halls and they declined, the question comes up.
“Your place or mine?”.
You’re living at your parent’s house, so that’s not even an option. To your surprise, red-shoes calls a Lyft, signifying their uniqueness, to which you self-congratulate yourself for knowing how to pick ‘em. During the car ride home, you keep your distance from red-shoes as a sign of respect to the driver, feeling shy because you harbour culturally-internalized shame towards sex. It’s all good though, you’re learning to overcome it!
Red-shoes leads you into their low-ceiling basement bedroom that smells like weed and 5 gum. As the making out escalates, you progressively get more excited. Then you remember you’re a #feminist who doesn’t shave. Despite knowing you’re beautiful and loving your body, you can’t help but recognize this is not a cultural norm and worry how red-shoes will react. As expected, they don’t even notice and the night seamlessly continues on to become an X-rated episode of Degrassi.
After hardly two hours of sleep and being awoken by red-shoes’s deaf cat jumping on your chest at 7 a.m., you decide it’s time to go home. Your cutie is slow to wake up, rolling around looking all hot as they enjoy the luxury of being a deep sleeper. They drive you home in their Prius, dropping you off in a Mac’s Convenience Store parking lot. While washing off last night’s face, you remember you left a recently thrifted sweater at cutie’s. You send a text asking for it back and never hear from them again.
In your hungover state, you struggle to submit a weekly discussion post on Avenue while smiling about last night’s events. Maybe you’ll see red-shoes again, maybe you won’t. Your sweater might be lost forever, but the smell of that nicely renovated kitchen will live on in your memory. You close your blinds and nap until 4:30 p.m., excited to do it all over again.
This article is part of our Sex and the Steel City, our annual sex-positive issue. Click here to read more content from the special issue.
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By Rachel Lieske, Contributor
The popular astrology app CoStar is known for daily insights that are customized according to a user’s astrological chart. Every day at 10:37 am, CoStar sends me daily affirmations, recently with a recurring theme surrounding “pressure in love.” I usually shrug off the AI-generated insights, but the idea of “pressure in love” echoed in my mind—it felt symbolic of young love, and everything it represents, and caught my attention.
There’s a common narrative that persists around young love. Finding love that lasts in your adolescence is the one way to create a fairytale ending. Needless to say, a fairytale ending is merely a fictional account. There is a lot of love rhetoric echoed in our culture like “you’ll find love once you stop looking”, but aren’t we supposed to be finding love now, just as many of our parents did at our age?
Like any frantic Gen Z, I texted all of my friends and asked them if they felt “pressure in love” and if they felt that there was an inherited timeline to find it. As it turned out, most of my single friends were pessimistic about finding love and felt a pressure weighing them down. Here’s what they had to say.
“There’s a lot of pressure regarding the demographic and social aspect of it all. If you’re in a city that is full of people your age and your living the typical university lifestyle then it should be easy to find a significant other, but it’s really not.” - Allie, 20
“[University] seems like a perfect time to meet people, and a lot of people are finding love. At the end of the day, media makes love seem like this whole encompassing thing that everyone craves but I’m not so certain it’s the end all be all.” - Robyn, 19
“I think the pressure comes more internally than externally, especially when I see people who have had lots of relationships in high school and university and I feel like now there’s less time to find my ‘soul mate’. If those people have been through so many relationships and haven’t found the one, how can I with less time?” - Taylor, 20
“There’s a lot of cultural pressures because for me, my parents are Russian and there’s an unspoken standard that you will find a person to marry within university and if you can’t, it’s like, ‘Okay, what’s wrong with you?’”- Devon, 21
Coincidently, most of my friends who were in relationships said that they never felt pressured to be in relationships. Instead, romantic love randomly found its way into their lives. However, they experienced a different sort of pressure; a pressure to experience single life fully in university.
“There’s more of a pressure to not find love because of single culture being so dominant with university nightlife and online dating!” - Alex, 20
“Finding love shouldn’t have a timeline to it. It shouldn’t be a race. If you don’t find love by 25 it doesn’t mean that you’re undesirable!” - Vanessa, 20
“I felt more pressure to be dating than to find true love. I didn’t feel like I needed a soulmate, but I didn’t want to get to a point where I felt so much less experienced than everyone else that dating would feel impossible later on,”- Quinn, 20
“The short answer is no, I don’t feel the pressure to find love in university but I’ve been in a relationship most of my time at school, in which the first one was very all-consuming and overbearing so I actually felt the pressure to be single for once.” -Mary, 20
It’s undeniable that our adolescence is a time of experimentation when it comes to love. We may make dumb decisions that we come to regret, but we can use the lessons from our successes and failures to help navigate the world of dating. Although past successes and failures help us navigate new relationships the pressure still persists: to find something real, raw, lasting and most importantly, loving.
Other pressures come from trying to understand how to balance personal growth and romantic growth. In the infancy of our adult lives, we underestimate how many commitments we already have, and how large of a commitment love is. At some point, we have to give up on some of our commitments, and most of the time it’s a battle between love or loss.
When we open our hearts to love, we also open our hearts to loss. Inevitably we might feel a combination of both. Choosing love is an act of bravery that deserves credit for its commitment to vulnerability and its gamble with loss. The pressure can be grave and intimidating but somehow always finds its way into our lives, in this quest for love or something that feels like it.
This article is part of our Sex and the Steel City, our annual sex-positive issue. Click here to read more content from the special issue.
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Sex and the Steel City has made its rounds over the years.
Whether it was moving on from a totally separate issue to an insert, reviving it from the dead after it was put to rest in 2014 or making the decision to not distribute 8,000 copies of full-on porn around campus and the community, looking through the SATSC archives is both hilarious and moving.
Special issues are a lot of work. Every aspect of this issue has a meticulous planning process and an entire team of staff and volunteers to get the job done. This year’s edition of SATSC was no exception.
On top of making sure that our regular, 28-page issue is both high-quality and on stands on time, our staff worked around the clock looking for submissions, editing content, laying out pages and planning a launch party. Razan Samara, our Arts & Culture editor, spent months planning the issue, from working and reworking our page count, layouts or what the cover might look like. Some of our contributors did double their paid workload in order to get this issue on stands.
Despite the various planning meetings, extra hours in the office, stress headaches and way too much coffee, we got it done, and it looks incredible.
We published the last Sex and the Steel City magazine in February 2016. The 32-page issue was distributed at the same time as our weekly paper and despite its popularity, was cut the following year due to budget cuts and complaints about the fact that it was NSFW.
After floating the idea around how to bring it back last year, we revived the special edition in the form of a some extra pages in our Arts and Culture section. We strayed from our traditional format about writing about sex for the sake of writing about sex and instead published pieces surrounding sex, health and relationships.
This year, we decided to follow suit, putting in an additional 12 glossy pages filled with artwork, information about LGBTQ2SA+ friendly spaces in Hamilton and several pieces on sexual health and wellness. We also added our feature and sports section to the fun with some themed articles and decided to have a launch party for it — which you should come to, tonight at Redchurch Cafe from 7 p.m. to 11 p.m.
Special issues allow our staff and contributors to stray from our usual content and dive into topics that interest them, never minding what may be too taboo for our weekly issue. It allows our production team to really show off how talented they are. Most importantly, it allows us to stray from the ordinary and be as creative as we want.
On Apr. 9, 2015, one week after the final weekly paper of the academic year, the former arts and entertainment section known as ANDY had its last 24-page magazine. The direction and focus of the section in the 2015-2016 year lead to the magazine being discontinued, and was not revived with ANDY’s merging with the Lifestyle section in 2016-2017.
On Feb. 10, 2016, we had our last Sex and the Steel City magazine, which was distributed at the same time as the regular, weekly paper and totalled 32-pages. This was more of a reflection of the former Lifestyle section, and while considered despite the merging of the ANDY and Lifestyle sections in 2016-2017, was discontinued due to budget cuts and low pickup rates.
While these sorts of special issues were generally high quality with the amount of time allowed for long-term goals and let volunteers who do not generally contribute share their perspectives, these concerns and others similar to them have been inhibiting factors for considerations.
We have considered a few options to help elevate these:
1) Have better timing to not align with the usual, weekly release to not potentially cannibalize readership, and have a better gauge of distribution processes.
2) Be willing to produce online only issues.
3) Create issue ideas that are more applicable to a wider student base of the university, and reduce how niche the topics are.
Right now, we have two ideas of what we want to do for this year. The first is an issue entirely dedicated to humour. The Speculator on the back page of every week is a fantastic example of what you could expect. We could branch out a bit, open it up for contributions from you and the McMaster community and create a physical product that would appeal to almost anyone on campus or in the city.
This would likely be released after classes end for one of the terms or during the mid-term recess next term.
The second idea is to revive Sex and the Steel City as an online only publication. This was historically beneficial for putting out stories and perspectives that did not fit into the weekly sections, and was a favourite of our Production and Lifestyle teams of the past in order to show off some of their best work. While the topics did not appeal to everyone and was insistent in maintaining its NSFW mentality, it was a fan favourite to those who picked it up.
This would likely be released just before Valentine’s Day or during the mid-term recess next term.
These are not set in stone by any means. When it comes to the revival or creation of content like this, we want to make sure we are making content that you actually want to read and contribute to. While we can assume a lot based on history and random, sporadic feedback, there is still a degree of uncertainty given the amount of time off we have had from special issues.
We would love to hear about your interest in these two goals and other considerations for projects we could do. If you were passionate about ANDY, we would love to hear it by messaging us on social media or sending an email. If you would like for other sections of the paper to get their chance at a special issue or have a completely new idea, then that is perfect too. Just let us know what you want, and we will do our best to provide it for you.
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Miranda Babbitt
Assistant LifeStyle Editor
There are a handful of people I know who could just barely fit all of their underwear into two, maybe three drawers. To me, this appeared clinically insane. How on earth did any one person have so many bras and underwear that they could hypothetically go for two months without ever doing their laundry? What’s more, how could someone choose six pairs of undies over a charming little dress, or a cardigan so soft it feels like a kitten perpetually hugging you? And last but not least, why would I choose a rib-constricting garment that artificially endows me with a chest that appears freakishly larger than it did a minute before?
But I know the secret these people were harboring now: wearing beautiful underwear can be the stealthiest confidence boost you can ever experience.
Maybe that sentence carries more weight than intended. There are plenty of ways to inject some pep into that step. For some, it’s dabbing on red lipstick, or slipping into a dress reserved for happy occasions, or even stowing away your favourite chocolate bar in your purse for later. Regardless, the business of beautiful undergarments will never again be underestimated.
There’s an intrinsic sense of liberty that comes with wearing something for you alone. For example, it may look like you’re wearing a grey sweat suit with a spaghetti stain or two, but secretly, you’re wearing a dainty pair of polka dot undies. Who knew? Just you. And that’s sometimes all that matters.
Our outward perception of who we are affects how we feel. If you’re crumpled up in a ball, you’ll feel helpless. If you’re standing tall with your hands on your hips, you’ll feel powerful. If you’re wearing sexy underwear, you can feel sexy.
It took me a while to recognize that the word “sexy” isn’t limited to the runways of Victoria’s Secret. When I feel sexy, I’m in a place of self-confidence. So no wonder we associate sexiness with the angels walking down the runways. The way they prance down that glittered stretch of a platform above a star struck audience is almost in-your-face with confidence. But imagine if they were tiptoeing down the runway and looking down at their feet with unease. Chances are even the adoring fans in the audience wouldn’t consider them sexy, no matter how impossibly sculpted their bodies are.
If confidence comes from a pair of undies detailed in lavender lace or red lipstick or even just a slip of paper stowed in your purse with a few reminders of how great you are, then know that about yourself. You will feel so much more than just sexy with confidence.
You spend hours preparing. Styling your hair, choosing your outfit, practicing your laugh in front of the mirror. You finally walk into your date and, naturally, it’s a bust.
Your dinner companion seems boring, immature, and contorts their face into bizarre shapes with each mouthful of their vodka tonic. You look upon your date with a blank stare reflecting your chronic case of resting bitch face. Neither of you are having a good time, and you’re both well aware of it.
But fear not, dear reader. There is always hope.
Joan Rivers, style guru and plastic surgery muse, provides the world with a life altering dating tip. If you’re ever on a date and romance seems to be drifting into the vast unknown, imagine you’re kissing your date. Simple as that- just pretend that whenever you aren’t talking, or eating, or hating your life, the two of you are kissing. Don’t actually lean in though, that could seem desperate, or like sexual harassment. But the act of imagining will lighten your mood, create a sense of romance, and make you feel immensely more hopeful about your companion for the evening.
If you follow this tip, feel your body language dramatically change. You’ll lean in more, slow down your conversation, and avert your vision more to your date’s mouth. Feel in awe as your chronic bitch face turns into bedroom eyes, and suddenly what was once a hopeless and uncharismatic interaction between two people turns into a seductive and romantic evening that no one wants to end.
Reimaging your date will help create a lighter and more hopeful mood. The means may not guarantee a specific end, but it will definitely lift your spirits, and potentially help you notice more positive traits about your date.
And bonus, when you do finally lean in for your first kiss, the build up will create a spark so shocking, even Joan Rivers will feel it.
