Recently, an ad showed up on Facebook for something called the Ta-Ta Towel. It popped up repeatedly, incessantly, hawking an actual over-the-shoulder boulder holder. A boob towel. It’s a length of terrycloth that dangles around your neck like a scarf but supports your girls after bathing. Our reaction: “Come on…A towel? Just for boobs? We call B.S.! We know how to dry our breasts, thank you!”
Now, it may be that there are women among us who secretly desire the Ta-Ta Towel. For instance, some of us are perhaps getting hot flashes and can’t stand to have a shirt on, or don’t like the feeling of being topless after a shower because–thank you, gravity!–that involves boob-skin touching ribcage-skin.
If that’s your situation and you want the Ta-Ta Towel for sixty bucks, you go on with your bad self, and enjoy!
But for the moment, there’s this sinking feeling that we’ve shelled out enough on magical towels over the years (the Sham-wow? The Quick-dry Hair Turban? The cooling towel?) Our linen closet runneth over. We’ll stick with saying ta-ta to the Ta-Ta Towel.
–Amy Keyishian
What the world doesn’t need now is this study by a British plastic surgery practice about the Age of Invisibility. Translation: The age when beauty fades. Cosmetic surgeon Dr. Julian De Silva, of the Centre For Advanced Facial Cosmetic & Plastic Surgery in London sponsored a survey of 2,000 people.
Back in the day, when our moms didn’t have much time to cook, they grabbed a box of Hamburger Helper and — boom! — dinner was served. Times sure have changed thanks to the likes of Plated, Blue Apron and Sun Basket— meal kits offering all kinds of flavorful dishes. Several of my friends are converts, saying they want to avoid the time spent at the supermarket or get introduced to new tastes and techniques. But to me, these convenient culinary crash-courses come at the price of two essential cooking components: creativity and ingenuity.
TMI alert! I’m a random stranger, about to tell you quite a bit about my private parts. If that’s not okay with you—and really, who could blame you?—click onward. But I wouldn’t. That’s because I could very well be talking about yours.
Have you ever heard a name on the news and thought, “Is that the kid I used to know?” Stephanie Dolgoff looks at why our possible brushes with future fame (or infamy) are so stupidly thrilling.
Was it his fault? Hers? Both? Neither? One woman navigates the hard path ahead as 29 years of coupledom unravel and finds a strange silver lining.
From occasional exerciser to competitive badass: How Marty Munson found her power and a whole new way of life as a midlife athlete.
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