Walking home from the River apartments yesterday, I came across an abandoned copy of the July issue of Cosmopolitan magazine. Torn between feminist disgust and trashy curiosity, I finally decided to pick it up. C'mon, I really wanted to read the excerpt from "The Hot Zone" and take the quiz. I'd just try to avoid all the self-image-destroying pictures and articles.
I guess most women have some experience reading women's magazines -- I know I do. My sisters and I used to buy Cosmo or Glamour when we were young and hide them under our beds --my mom was never one to appreciate headlines like "Better Sex with Your Married Lover" or "Hollywood Hooker," and she threw out all magazines of such character, if she found them.
Butdespite the obstacles, I read enough of the magazines to feel their impact while growing up. In fact, I learned quite a bit from them.
My lack of sex ed through twelve years of Catholic schooling was not supplemented by talking with my parents (I was too shy).
I got my education straight from the sexual advice columns that many of these magazines have. I read "Sex and Your Health," "Your Body"and "Irma Kurtz's Agony Column" pretty regularly (barring a discovery by my mother) throughout grammar school.
I was pretty ahead of my peers when it came to knowledge about sex, but, admittedly, I was often more confused than enlightened. Usually some discussion with my friends helped clear things up.
After a few years, the columns seemed to get repetitive, and I realized in general the magazines did not have a whole lot of original material to offer. I stopped buying the magazines by the time I got to high school. But to this day, when I happen to run across one I can not resist picking it up and reading it.
So yesterday I took my newfound reading material to the Class of 1902 room to use as a procrastination device. The sex columns are still boring -- I guess someone will have to think up something really creative to make them interesting again -- but I was satisfied with flipping through, reading the book excerpts and ignoring the fashion and beauty pages.
Then I got to the quiz, and Ithought I was in for some amusement.
Just in case you are not familiar with these things, let me explain that magazine quizzes are usually intended to help you find something out about yourself, like: "How Messy Are You?" or "Are You an Optimist or a Pessimist?"
They are comprised of mostly multiple choice questions anda few true or false, and there is a scoring system at the end.
There are also usually some explanations, labeling people with a low score "Down in the Dumps Debbie" or "Messy Mary" while high scores might be "Pristine Christine" or "Jumping Joy."
While it is normally more fun to take the quiz with a friend, so you can talk about the validity (or lack thereof) of the final judgments, I decided to bravely face the question "Are You Too Comfortable with Him?" on my own.
First, you should know that "Him" in Cosmo always means the significant other of a woman. Fathers, brothers, friends, uncles, grandpas and sons are not included. The hidden question was, "Have you, as a woman, become so comfortable in your relationship with your husband/boyfriend/lover that you are at the point of sloppy lazy unattractiveness?" Who wouldn't want to know the answer to that?So, I started the quiz.
"How often do you shave your legs," asked Cosmo, "every day, sometimes or only in the summer?" Ilooked for "False," but it wasn't a choice. I moved on, hoping that question would be the only disappointment.
But then I came to "True or False: Do you leave tampons on a visible shelf in the bathroom?" Of course! They are easier to get to that way. Unfortunately, my answer again placed me in the dreaded "comfortable" pile.
But I forged on -- only to be asked about make-up (false), the "little girl's room" (where's that?), and, alas, cotton vs. satin sleepwear.
I did not have the heart to look at how I would be categorized at the end, having chosen all of the most comfortable answers. I can only guess that my new title might be something like "Shamefully Slack Sarah."
I'll never know anyway, though, because, in the tradition of my mom, I threw out the Cosmo. Now, I guess, even the quizzes are no fun.
