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Monday, April 4, 2011

Los Angeles and the men who act like women

“I love Los Angeles. I love Hollywood. They’re beautiful. Everybody’s plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic.” Andy Warhol’s attitude is something I have become accustomed to from growing up in Los Angeles. The perception of the average LA native is that we’re all narcissistic, shallow assholes with superiority complexes. This stereotype is not completely baseless. It seems as though the harshest critics of this beautiful city are the ones who “want to be plastic”. The transplants (those who move to LA from other areas) that seek the Hollywood look and “acceptance” perpetuates this image. I find men who come here, spend copious amounts of time at the gym, cut out all complex carbs (yes, it is very masculine for you to admit that you don’t eat pasta because you think it will make you fat), worry more about which black polo to wear (sorry to burst your bubble, they all look the same), and spend more time on their hair than I do (do you have unruly curls to tame? I didn’t think so). So who is really perpetuating this image? I am in no way saying that every Angeleno transplant is going to turn into a self absorbed douchebag nor am I say that all natives are saints; the question is when the men become effeminate how are the women supposed to act?

Anyone who has dated in the past 5-10 years knows that the game has changed. As a young girl I believed that a man would chase after me and would love me for who I was. What a load of crap that has turned out to be. Although gender norms of male dominance and female submission are continually instilled in young people through peers, family, religion, and the media what are women to do when men change the terms for the dominate role? These issues are not applicable to all men and all relationships, but I know that my friends and I have experienced the reversal one way or another. I am here to share my experiences and guide my fellow ladies in how to find a man in LA who breaks the mold, watch out for Mr. Douchebag, and what to do in case you get the jerk (eek!).

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