Women's Magazine Articles
A new article by Elizabeth has been posted on the Daily Beast. Click this link or read on below.
Bravo’s Real Housewives franchise doesn’t just showcase America’s funniest home catfights. It’s a post-feminist nightmare that preys on women’s shallowest, least-attractive qualities. And I can’t stop watching.
Even before the start of Bravo’s back-to-back episodes of the season finale of The Real Housewives of Orange County and second-season premiere of The Real Housewives of New York City, I was already transfixed, pinned at the edge of my living-room sofa as the coming attraction caused my heart to race:
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Posted on Feb.27.2009 »
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Selected Articles, Women's Magazine Articles
One late summer evening a few months ago, I was about to steep myself in an Aveeno oatmeal bath. Opening the doors to the vanity below my bathroom sink, I reached around a mountain of beauty products for my Lady Gillette. It was a regrettable move. I unleashed The Great Avalanche.

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Posted on Jan.02.2007 »
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Selected Articles, Women's Magazine Articles
Motherhood has always been a stretch for me. I was 27 when my son was born in 1988, and I hoped that having a baby would save my marriage to a workaholic, and give me a sense of purpose.

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Selected Articles, Women's Magazine Articles
Earlier this year I was bitten by a bauble bug. My symptoms included rapid heartbeat, hyperventilation, and temporary paralysis of the legs whenever I passed a fine-jewelry store. But I attributed my new obsession to my birthday’s being a month away. I planned on giving myself a tiny velvet-lined box, the contents of which would be valuable enough to require a personal-articles floater on my home owners insurance policy—or so I hoped.

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Posted on Oct.02.2005 »
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Selected Articles, Women's Magazine Articles
When dressing up for a date, I’ve always been as calculating as an NFL coach in playing down mu vulnerabilities and playing up my strengths. My expertise comes from an adolescence spent boy-chasing with my best friend a 5′10” blonde with a Baywatch body. All she ever had to do was inhale ever so slightly (thus appearing to inflate her already full D-cups), and male tongues wagged uncontrollably.

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