January 27, 2014 by Lindsay Tigar - 7 Comments

Cranky Young Men

I tried my best to hide my disdain behind wide-eyes and red lipstick, smiling as he spoke, trying my best not to look around the restaurant for something far more interesting than this date. I knew going in that I probably wouldn’t like him: he already asked a question that rubbed me the wrong way via text, his first dinner suggestion for our date was three blocks from his apartment (no thank you) and he came across a little full of himself.

I do like confidence, sure, I reassured myself on the subway ride down. I do think he’ll be interesting to talk to. Maybe I’m being too hard on him.

But my instincts were right – there was something off and I was pretty much finished with the evening by the time I took my last sip of red wine. But he suggested one more glass of vino at a bar nearby, and I obliged, deciding that I had two choices: I could either sulk that I met another someone I wasn’t interested in or I could get to know this person and possibly, learn something instead of being annoyed we didn’t click romantically.

And so, sitting on a couch in a 20s-themed speakeasy type of joint on the west side, I listened.

I listened as he complained about his job in investment banking – that pays an outrageous amount of money, I’m sure. I listened as he expressed his real joy was found in a more creative, but not quite lucrative pastime that he simply doesn’t have enough time to pursue. I listened as he complained about the guilt he feels over having a dog that’s left at home the majority of the time (okay, I can relate to that). I listened as he complained about turning 30 this year and how he wasn’t where he thought he would be and he regretted not pursuing his passions. I listened as he talked about his on-and-off relationship with a girl he didn’t think was The One, but he wanted to figure out if it was really her or if maybe, it was him. (I think it’s him.)

I listened. And then I declined his presumptuous invitation on our first date to go back to his place – because really, is there anything sexier than a depressed man? Yes. Lots and lots of things.

In the cab ride back to my own apartment — by myself — I tried my best to not get disappointed by another date that wasn’t great, but what I was really thinking in between my pep talks was:

Why are there so many cranky young men?

When the New York Post interviewed me for the most eligible single article, they asked me what I was looking for in a guy, and I surprised myself when the first thing I said was: I just want a normal, happy boyfriend that’s well-adjusted and lives a full life. It sounds so incredibly simple as I type it out – but it couldn’t be a more accurate description of what I value most in a partner. And yet, it seems to be the most difficult quality to find in a man in New York City because frankly, most guys I meet are, just plain cranky.

They’re fearful that their time is up and that they’ll never be this super-successful, powerful lawyer/FBI Agent/Basketball Player/Banker/World-Class Musician/Awesome Porn Star/Politician/Actor/blah, blah, blah and now they’re just going to be old and withered, trapped in a marriage, and growing a beer belly. They’re hung up on some girl at some point in their life that they had some relationship with, and they worry they’ll never be able to love like that again. Or they’re burned by it. Or they just can’t f***ing get over it. They’re distressed that life has just dealt them a bad hand and they are stuck in some sort of rut that has them feeling not important, not sexy, not anything. They can’t handle a woman who knows what she wants, they don’t want to be settled down into anything because they’re crippled by the fear of taking the wrong route, they just can’t figure anything out or commit to anything.

The only thing they can honestly commit to is getting laid – because, well, isn’t there always a girl somewhere that will sleep with a cranky young man? Yes, there is. Because I was that girl just a few years ago.

I put up with all of the bull and I wore my frustration like a smile, never demanding too much attention toward myself. I played the part of the do-good, be-sweet girlfriend with hopes that a cranky young man’s downtime would turn into his upswing, where he’d love with everything he had. And he’d especially love the girl who stuck with him through the detriment. I was careful with my words and my expectations, accepting whatever was thrown at me, even if I felt starved for a real relationship with strings and roots and hopes. I developed my own cheerleading squad of one – performing a song and (lap) dance to cheer up my cranky young man every single day, day-after-day, for a year.

And in the process, I forgot about my needs. I put what I wanted aside. I believed so deeply in something imaginary that I couldn’t see realistically what was actually happening. I let friendships fade. I lost all of those magical pieces that make me, me by giving all of my magic to a man who never deserved it or earned it.

Not anymore, not ever again, I reminded myself, crawling into bed, alone, again, with Lucy cuddled by my side. There are far worse things than being single or a little lonely. And dating a cranky young man is one of them. Because all it does is turn you into a cranky young woman.

Instead – I want to meet a man whose outlook matches mine. A guy who has his shit together. A happy man. A man that, like me, is pretty normal, rather positive… and only cranky until he gets his first cup of coffee.

This Valentine’s Day, write a self-love letter to yourself and it’ll be published (anonymous or not) on Confessions of a Love Addict! And you enter yourself to win a prize pack of beauty products and a Home Goods gift card! Learn more here. Submit here.

January 22, 2014 by Lindsay Tigar - 4 Comments

15 Beauty Products for Single Ladies

I distinctly remember the day my mom let my buy real makeup for the first time: I was 11 and had my very first zit (big and terribly red, center of my chin). It was in the middle of summer, I was wearing khaki shorts and a red polo (don’t judge) and I walked out of Wal-Mart with three things: Neutrogena Face Wash + Acne Creme duo, Covergirl concealer and blue glitter eyeshadow.

Because it was the 90’s, y’all, okay?

I was amazed by how easily it was to hide an imperfection and how fun it was to make my eyes brighten or get bigger with makeup – and honestly, I’ve been hooked ever since. After 15 years of having a really poor complexion that broke out constantly, I’ve been (mostly) acne-clear for a year now. Though Accutane is some serious stuff (and you should only take it if you commit to keeping yourself healthy), it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Having the option of wearing foundation or skipping it has been a life changer and huge confidence booster. Feeling beautiful in my own actual skin is something I always wanted and never had.

But, I still love my beauty products, they’ve just changed a bit.

My mom has always worn the same lipstick, same perfume, used the same lotion – but I like to try things. There are a few staples that I swear by (you’ll see them below) and other ones that I’ve recently tried and loved (also below).

Check out my picks for the best beauty products if you’re dating, looking, loving — or just enjoying the single ride:

Shampoo That Makes Your Hair Smell Amazing

I hate spending a lot of money on shampoo and conditioner (it just washes down the drain!), but I love when you can get salon-quality product for a very cheap price. Vidal Sassoon Pro Series (I always get the jumbo-sizes at TJ Maxx for $3.99 each!) has tons of different options – moisture, repair, hydrate – but I love the color protect if you dye your hair like me.

Face Wipes That Wake You Up

It takes 30-days to form a habit and I’ve been doing this one for 25 years: wake up, brush my teeth, use a cleansing towelette to wake up. I’ve tried lots of them, but these are soft, smell like cucumbers and great for travel. Giovanni also has tons of other products, like travel kits and makeup, check them out. (I love their Hot Chocolate Sugar Scrub, too!)

Best Nail Polish Color for a First Date

One of my good friends – a dating expert – once said: wear a red dress, but never wear red nails on a first date. I was confused by this at first, but it makes sense: you want to dry attention to yourself (and men are distracted by color, it’s science), but not to your hands, necessarily. I always go for a clear polish or a lighter color and Wet N’ Wild has a nice collection that dry fast and available basically everywhere.

Masque to Use Before He Sleeps Over

Some say three dates, others say five – I say whatever feels right to you. For me, when I’m ready to let a man stay the night at my apartment, I want to seem like I’m this radiant, glowing creature in the morning, even if that’s not exactly true all the time. The night before your adult sleepover, try the Amore Pacific refreshing masque to deep-clean your skin and leave your face soft.

The Easiest Way Ever to Curl Your Hair

My hair isn’t naturally anything: it’s a dull, boring light-brown color. It only looks pretty and wavy when it wants to. It doesn’t like to be straightened. And yeah, it’s kind of frizzy. Though this Rusk Curl Freak is a complete splurge ($200!) it will save you so much headache if you want really pretty, really easy curls. You clamp at the top of your hair, push a button, it beeps at you and voila! You have the most beautiful curls, ever with basically no effort.

If You Hate Getting Your Eyebrows Waxed Like Me

I’ve had my eyebrows waxed a few times but it’s not my favorite past time. The wax breaks me out, I flinch when they do it, I have a red area around my brows for a week after. I opt for old-fashioned tweezing but prefer a slanted tip like this Tweezerman set.

For Lashes You Can Bat

I’m a big believer in eye contact – on a date, at the bar, when you see someone cute on the subway, at work, while listening to your friend. And if you want to use those babies to pick up someone, pretty eyelashes help pronounce your beauties. I’ve used L’Oreal Voluminous Volume Mascara since high school and refuse to use anything else. It’s seriously the best. (For blue eyes, try black/brown instead of black – it looks more natural!)

The Best Way to Use Oils

I never understood what you were suppose to do with fragrance oils – where do you dab them? Why do you need them? Then a friend spilled her secret with them: put a little bit on your neck, a little behind your ear (and in other places if you plan on getting naked) and they work their magic. I love the magnolia scent from The Body Shop – and love that their bottles last forever because you use such a little amount each time.

Perfume for Falling in Love (Or At Least Hoping You Do!)

Unlike my mom, I try tons of different perfumes all the time. I even mix them together to create a new scent if I’m feeling extra creative. My latest obsession is this new perfume, Philosophy’s Loveswept. It smells fresh and citrus-y, with subtle undertones.

For Covering Up Those Pesky Pimples

If there is a concealer at Sephora, I’ve tried it. Literally anything and everything I could get my hands on, I would try to cover up all of my annoying acne that made me feel so ugly. The best concealer I’ve found – isn’t a concealer at all! It’s actually foundation from Dermablend (with 20 SPF!) and it goes a long, long way. I’ve had the same 1.0 fl. oz bottle for more than a year. No joke. Just put on a problem area, let dry and cover with powder foundation….

Foundation That Doesn’t Look or Feel Like Foundation

I never liked mineral foundation or makeup until post-Accutane days because I never felt like it was enough coverage. Now, right before runs or heading to work, I dab the Dermablend under my eyes and smooth over with bareMINERALS Ready Foundation. It’s exactly the amount of coverage you need, but not too much.

Because Every Girl Needs Red Lips

I’m a big believer that everyone looks great with red lipstick. It’s an everyday staple for me, and especially on dates. (I mean, just look at the top of this blog!) Dolce & Gabbana’s classic cream lipstick goes on easy, lasts forever, and is available in fun shades – including my personal favorite, “Fire.”

Say Good-Bye to Dry Skin

The best tip my dermatologist ever gave me is always, always exfoliate (and moisturize!). This keeps your skin clean, fresh and free of bacteria. One of my favorites is from bliss – just dab on a Clarisonic (worth every penny!), all over your face (especially the t-zone) for really glowing, bright skin. It’s great to use right before you apply makeup for a date.

If You Don’t Want Wrinkles

My mom started using anti-aging cream at 22, and I started at 21 by her recommendation. It took me a while to find a system that I really liked, and after Accutane, I realized just how much I needed a great moisturizer with SPF and collagen. I was given a Palladio Beauty set as a gift and I fell in love: I used the UV Defense Daily Moisturizer, the Revitalizing Night Repair Cream and the Anti-Wrinkle Eye Cream every single day. Best part? It’s totally affordable.

Lotion That’s Not Too Much or Too Little

It’s hard to find something in between Bath & Body Works and Cetaphil. You might want a little bit of fragrance, but not too much that it gives you a headache, right? I’m a big fan of Ahava’s Mineral Botanic Honeysuckle & Lavender Body Lotion. It’s scented just the right amount and also really hydrating for your skin.

Want to win some of these products? Here’s how:

January 21, 2014 by Lindsay Tigar - 3 Comments

I Found Myself a Diamond

My friends know me as the daughter of a fiery, intelligent, mystical, mother.

Though she’s paid the bills with accounting and massage therapy, she spends her free time focusing on those untold ways of the universe. She investigates how the different planets and their position in the skies above us affect our daily decisions, the path we take and the one we choose. She believes things in nature can mean more than a passing glance and in the perfect, yet incredibly frustrating, timing of everything.

It’s because of the way I was raised to believe in myself and in everything around me that I notice what I consider messages from something higher all the time. When I’m worried or anxious about something – anything – I’ll often find a penny at my feet or on the seat in front of me, and I take it as a reminder to have more trust. On nights I can’t sleep, staring out into the city lights, I remind myself that often when my nerves are high, something really wonderful happens the next day – and I’m almost always right.

It shouldn’t come as any surprise to me that even when I’m not in the most sober of states, I’ll remember my mom’s precious words of advice to keep my eyes (and heart) open to the world and see what it says, but I woke up on January 1, caught off guard.

And yes, terribly hungover.

Much to Lucy’s demands at 11 a.m. to take her for a walk before she barked my head off, I stumbled out of bed, staying far away from the mirror. After the shortest walk ever to retrieve coffee, coconut water and a very-needed, very-greasy, cheese-and-ham croissant, my roommates and I lounged in the living room, all nursing our excruciating post-25-years-old heads that don’t recover how they used to.

Without much to say – or energy to say it – we all aimlessly searched online and scrolled through our phones, laughing at drunken photos and half-hazy memories of ringing in 2014. After a photo of hundreds of balloons lining the ceiling of a West Village bar (I was trying to be artsy, apparently), I saw this photo:

At some point in between toasting the New Year and falling asleep in my party dress, I must have found these two cards, recalled my mom’s instructions, snapped this shot and put them back where they were. Nope, didn’t even bring the cards home. Nope, my roommates had no idea either. Nope, don’t remember seeing them – or where I saw them. Nope, don’t know why I deemed them important, but that’s my painted New Year’s nails and hand, recording my first message from the universe for 2014.

So of course, my first call was to my mom:

“Hey mom! Happy New Year! Love you. Something strange happened.”

“Oh no honey. Are you okay? What happened? Where are you?” She calmly freaked out.

“I’m fine, mom. I found two cards last night, I think. And I took a photo of them. And I think it must mean something, right?” I asked.

“That is really strange. Text me what they are and I’ll email you the meaning as soon as I can. Just have to dig out the Tarot cards. JIM!!! Have you seen my Tarot cards? Where did I put them? Getting old sucks, you are always forgetting things, Lindsay…” she trailed off.

Two hours later, when said Tarot cards were located, here’s what she said:

Ten of Spades (black card): Conflict. Destruction. Loss. Breakdown of relationships. Slander. Hurt. Misfortune. Plans that seemed promising end in failure. Disillusion. Grief. Temporary alliances. Being forsaken. A sacrifice. Withdrawing from the world due to trauma. The apex and end of a matter. Does not represent violent death.

Ten of Diamonds (red card): Freedom from financial concerns. Prosperity. Strong, established family setting. Protection and stability within a clan. Family traditions and gatherings. Having the time to enjoy the fruits of one’s labour. Achieving of worldly dreams. Benefiting from the work of one’s predecessors. Gifts. Inheritance, archives. Celebrations and reunions.

Turns out, I was holding 2013 and 2014 in my hands. Or at least, what I hope 2014 will be (and frankly is so far).

Last year was full of so much hardship, change, struggle and endings. And honestly, I let it get me down for a while: I stopped working out as much, put on some weight, became severely negative (and probably not a great date), felt uninspired by everything, wrote really sad posts and ultimately, thought nothing good was ever, ever going to happen again.

But as the close of the year crept closer, I decided I had two choices: I could either let the baggage and pain of 2013 follow me into 2014 or I could change my life instead of waiting for my life to change.

I picked the latter – and already, 2014 is bringing much more happiness than 2013 ever offered. Instead of counting the things I don’t have, I started valuing the things I do. Instead of thinking a man is going to waltz in and take away all of the hurt from my past relationships and make me believe there’s someone magical out there, I started focusing on myself and doing things that I like to do, the arrival of a man, be damned! Instead of taking seconds and always agreeing to chocolate, I started picking my health, not my cravings. Instead of seeing the bad, I started looking for the good.

It’s always there.

Though I can’t say if the planets came together to bring those cards to me somewhere in this city as the clock struck midnight, I will say that it sure feels that way. Then again – signs can only mean something to us if we believe in them.

And this time, maybe I do. I do believe that 2014 will bring happiness and adventure and security and love and strength. Why?

Because this year, I’m not waiting around for it. I’m creating it.

January 14, 2014 by Lindsay Tigar - 0 comments

The Little Red Dress

After my interview with the New York Post on Thursday about what makes me the most desirable single in the city (Disclaimer: I still have no idea!), the reporter sent me an email about the photo shoot.

Now, I’ve had photo shoots before (thanks to many photographer friends in college) but the idea of having my photo taken for all of the five boroughs to see with a headline about being the most eligible single – that just felt like a whole lot of pressure I wasn’t quite ready for.

Or rather, my closet wasn’t prepared to handle.

Quickly, I texted my friend E, who is a sassy, talented designer for a small label that sells to big labels, like Anthropologie, begging for her expert advice. We met post-work and scoured the racks of H&M, then the sale section of Bebe and just as we were about to brave the mayhem of the Times Square Forever 21, we stumbled across Cache – a store I haven’t been in since my pageant days in the deep South.

And there it was: the red dress.

E and I both spotted it instantly and I hesitantly looked at the tag, hoping and praying it’d be under $50 and thus, on budget. When the numbers almost quadrupled that, I sighed and reminded myself there was always the wear-once with the tags and return option, should the dress be exactly what I was looking for and I couldn’t resist.

And it was exactly what I was looking for: it hugged in all of the right places, showed a little skin but not too much, a sexy back opening, past my knees and looked great in heels. As I stood in front of the mirror in the terribly hot dressing room while E took a picture to see how it would look in print, my anxiety started to build.

I knew I needed to save money for Europe and watch my spending before I leave. I knew I was making every effort to spend as little as I could during the week so I could splurge on the weekend. I knew there were so many more responsible, reasonable things I could buy with nearly $200 but if there was ever a dress that was made for me, this was it.

Forget a little black dress -I rarely wear one. My color has always been (and let’s be honest, will probably always be) red. I handed over my card, caught my breath and vowed that I wouldn’t keep it – I’d just wear it for this special shoot and I’d always have a newspaper page to remember it by.

Or, so I thought.

When I walked out of the studio to show the photographer my selection, she said two words: “Wow. Perfect.” And as I stood in front of many bright lights in six-inch heels, sucking in what I could, standing up straight, trying to hold Lucy so she faced the camera, smile and pop my foot all at the same time – I did feel rather gorgeous. (And a little uncoordinated.)

I could hardly sleep Saturday night, anticipating the arrival of my first big feature in a daily paper, wondering what the article would say and what I would look like. I raced at 8 a.m. on Sunday, unable to sleep a wink more to the newsstand a few blocks down. When I saw it, I couldn’t help but jump up and down in the street and buy 10 copies, excitedly showing the not-English-speaking vendor my photo.

After updating every social platform I could, I went back to the red dress, hanging up with pride in the front of my closet, the tags still on, the receipt hanging from my bulletin board. And even though I probably can’t afford it – I decided to keep it. Off with the tags and goodbye to my proof of purchase – I wanted this beauty as a staple.

Because everyone needs a little red dress.

Or a little yellow one or blue one. A little something to make them feel a little (or maybe a lot) good about themselves. Besides – red is a great dress to wear on my next great first date…

This Valentine’s Day, write a self-love letter to yourself and it’ll be published (anonymous or not) on Confessions of a Love Addict! And you enter yourself to win a prize! Learn more here. Submit here.

January 12, 2014 by Lindsay Tigar - 10 Comments

I’m in the New York Post Today!!!

I tell ya, this little blog sure does bring some interesting opportunities for me. The latest interesting development? Being named New York City’s Most Eligible Single in the New York Post in their Sunday edition today.

According to a study by PlentyofFish.com, men online are searching for the following:

-A 25-year-old
-Dog owner
-Been in one long-term relationship (at least three years)
-Catholic
-Social drinker
-Able to commit
-Thin and fit

And apart from the Catholic qualification (I was raised Methodist), I fit the bill.

Though I definitely don’t feel like the most idealist single that ever walked the glittering streets of Manhattan, I’m honored (and utterly surprised) to be named such a lucky, solo-leading lady. From the interview with the Post to a super-fun photoshoot that required a brand-new red dress (worth every penny), the last week was a whirlwind of an experience.

I don’t know what it is, but something tells me that 2014 might just bring a lot of these unexpected – and totally amazing – chances for me to put myself out there and really own being single. And writing this blog. And encouraging women to stand up for themselves.

And of course, love who you are.

Because regardless if you meet the findings of some study about what’s attractive, enticing and “ideal” -the most stunning, incredible part of anyone is their confidence. Whoever you are, own it – and know that one day, someone (surely) fall for it.

If you’re in New York – go buy the post today! If you’re not, check out this link, while I go blush for the next 24 hours. Some outtakes from the shoot below:

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