So it’s been a looooooong time since I’ve actually liked someone. Sure, I’ve had my interest piqued a few times. Until, A) they’ve divulged their stamp-collecting obsession, B) they’ve voiced their desires to travel to Phuket and have gender reassignment surgery or C) all of the above.

I’m not so much the desperado type. I’m so busy that I’d seriously consider cloning myself, and I’m happy being single. Really happy.

Luckily that comes…

Style is largely subjective. Aside from white leather, pleather, real fur, and Crocs, right?

Wrong. As one celebrity said- “One woman’s leopard print is another woman’s poison”. (OK I totally just made that up.)

So, I’ve been a serial monogamist like, foreeeeveeeer. Being in 3 “biggy” relationships from the age of 15 to 30, I’ve been somewhat sheltered, you could say. Sheltered from all the men with bad hair, gold neckchains, canary yellow…