Write Me Like One Of Your French Girls

Today I discovered a new magazine. It talks about women’s sexuality, or so they say.On the cover, you have very, oh very subtle titles such as: “What You Need to Know About Men”; “What Men Love In Bed”; “Should You Sleep With Him On the First Date” - the kind of questions we girls ask ourselves but never really find answers to, because hey - sex here, kind of taboo.My first thought was: why not? Maybe it can help girls to be less ashamed of the way they live and experiment with relationships. When it comes to intimate questions, I’m all for open discussion without any blushing or embarrassment.The thing is, the more I was reading, the more it became obvious that it was totally the opposite case.By that, I mean the entire magazine was made up of clichés about what-girls-might-assume-men-think, and guys-telling-girls-how-they-would-like-them-to-behave.  The whole issue was talking to a naughty, self-confident girl, giving her advices such as “you have insecurities about your body? Don’t!” It’s like telling a sad person that the answer to their problem is happiness. Duh. Thank you, magazine.In my opinion, every girl and woman has a different story, and this kind of reading is simply the best solution to make them feel even more insecure than they might already be.It’s sad to think that these magazines want to be some kind of new and avant garde press; one which speaks its mind, which asks questions about how we really feel in 2016. Sadly, it’s not. This is the perfect magazine to sum up a real, complex subject with some insane “mother-cooker-hooker”policy (be one of these three in the right place, and you’ll own your man).This magazine would probably be ideal for answering the problems and questions of Mrs Perfect Picture. As if Mango Cara Delevingne had trouble in paradise with Calvin Klein Justin Bieber.Truth is, we’re not pictures. We are deep. We have background and, in fact, we can do whatever the hell we want, period. One of the articles that made me roll my eyes so high they almost got stuck under my lids was “Better Alone Than In Bad Company”. This article - which is supposed to be funny - tells women to dye their hair in green or blue or to wear sarouel pants because LOL, really that is so unappealing.This joke? Not so funny. I mean, we’re not in 1960 anymore. If you want to make jokes about women that hopelessly try to stay single, try to do it without “humanshaming” your peers. It’s as original as saying blond chicks are dumb or gingers have no souls.This magazine is just another proof of the need for feminist - yup, that’s not a bad word - press. It is just another wicked way to make women feel guilty about themselves in an insidious way, because it claims to talk openly about sexuality.Well guys, maybe I’ll believe it when you’ll change your half-naked, super hot cover model for a, say, ‘me’ kind of chick.