The Vagenda

How to Say I Love You

Courtesy of US Cosmo, who clearly have no idea what the life of a modern woman is like. As IF I could afford a dishwasher. 

5 thoughts on “How to Say I Love You

  1. Since moving in with my partner a year ago, I think he still mourns for the days when he hoped that I would dress like this around the house. Poor chap. Isn’t it time to stop teasing them with stock photos like this, when reality is a onesie complete with red wine and chocolate stains, pineapple hair, geeky glasses and bedsocks?

  2. This is quite silly, I know, but, from his angle, he can’t possible see up his skirt. Why are the (theoretically female, and based on the content, also straight) readers of Cosmo being treated to this view?

  3. a) Who the fuck wears heels in their own home?
    b) Men barely ever notice when you do domestic stuff (remember, how it is like your thing…coz u haz vagina)
    c) Even if they notice and thank you, it is cowardly to use this as a weird L-bomb opportunity
    d) + you have just equated self-inflicted domestic servitude with love, if only women could occasionally give men flowers ‘just because’ to erase all selfishness and lazy habits (we’ve all heard ‘that friend’ “but I could tell he was really sorry, there was almost a tear in his eyes, and he gave me flowers” – so he had 10 pounds and realised you might stop doing stuff for him if he continued to ignore you, big fucking whoop)
    e) now that domestic servitude is love…when you stop (return to sorting out your own life and leaving him to iron his own shirts) he’ll think you’ve stopped loving him!
    f)All because you followed relationship advice from some useless magazine(?) about how to tell someone you love them in a sneak attack, which we all know is how people hope to hear important news (if it’s the first time) from their significant other (who they are cohabiting with, despite as of yet not loving each other)…… ARGGGGG!