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Dear Dub
Dear Dub: To Lube or not to Lube
Photo via super-lube.com
The DUB would like to welcome you to go on a journey. Let’s go to the magical land of Oz, folks. Think of the tin man. Recall that enchanting moment when Dorothy found his own personal can of lubrication. A…
Dear Dub: Who’s Winning the “Biggest Loser”?
Since Body Beautiful Week is doing a great job reminding us to be kind to our bodies, this article will be about a way that society is telling us not to be. Women and men alike are being manipulated, shamed, and blatantly coerced into a…
Dear Dub: For Valentine’s,What’s a Feminist to Do?
The other day, I found myself incessantly pressing one of those Hallmark singing Valentine’s Day Hippos in a thrift store. The batteries were almost dead, so it kind of sounded like it was going to eat my face in the middle of the night.…
Dear Dub: new Year, New Feminist
On the first day of this brand spanking new 2016, in the wee hours of the morning, my first meal was a *~reheated~* piece of Elio’s frozen pizza on a paper. In fact, in the first 6 hours of 2016, I managed to shatter three of my three…
Dear Dub: What About Women in the Outdoors?
Men and women are biologically different creatures. We look different naked-that much I’ve known since Jack Howzit (name very slightly changed) stripped down on the soccer field in rec soccer because he was tired, and angry, and those two…
Dear Dub: Body Hair, What’s Normal?
Photo Credit: Dove
For the first few weeks of the semester, the Women’s Resource Center was shaved of its hedges. Granted, we were the recipients of a new, glorious porch, for which we are eternally and irrefutably grateful. But,…
In light of Purple Week: Is there an equation for relationship positivity?
Everybody fights. It’s normal. We’re normal. I love him. I love you. We’re a family. This is cover-up. Use it to cover up the bruises and scratches. This is our life. You’re fine, go to school. I’m fine, it’s okay, you can go. He had too…
Dear Dub: What’s the Buzz About the Diva Cups?
When I was ten, the fifth grade class of my elementary school filed into very specific rooms. Boys here. Girls there. An old VHS hummed out a song, “Just around the corner for girls.” I remember very little of that video, besides…