To Barbie: Sorry, There is No Ken

“Kiss her in the rain” and “tell her you love her randomly so she always knows,” are just two tokens of advice on a list called “Things Guys Should Do” posted on a popular blogging site I frequent. Being a hormonal, female teenager, I think I’m supposed to agree wholeheartedly and then proceed to complain incessantly about the lack of quality guys out there because no one has ever done that to me.
Instead of the jealousy I’m expected to feel, I feel a familiar churning in my stomach at the thought of such an effusive display of affection. After the churning subsides, the pity sinks in. It’s the pity for all the guys out there who are supposed to be measured by the strict, media-imposed standard of what the “perfect guy” is. It’s a shame that Mr. Perfect is expected to enact elaborate gestures just to reassure his girlfriend of his unwavering affections. Like most girls, I like my fair share of extravagant romantic notions but I also realize that these wildly amorous gestures are about as realistic as a neon pink unicorn.
The effects of what I call the “Nicholas Sparks” complex, created by the author of “The Notebook” and “A Walk to Remember,” are evident not just in actual relationships but every time a dance is announced. Asking a girl out to a social function with sincerity and a bouquet of her favorite flowers is unheard of these days. The idea that you have to rally up an entire brigade of friends who are then designated very important tasks in a very elaborate plan is the most accepted way.
The media sets an unbelievably high standard of how a girl should appear: flawlessly made up and groomed at all times. Girls understand how unattainable and unrealistic these expectations are. (I am sorry, shaving every other day in the winter just does not make sense). We shouldn’t compare ourselves to the people on the covers of magazines so we should stop comparing our guys to them too. Besides kissing in the rain just seems like a recipe for pneumonia and random, multiple ‘I love you’ calls seem infinitely more annoying than romantic.

Yvonne Lee,
Editor in Chief