Looking for a place to start this article and overwhelmed by the weight of the subject matter before me, I do a quick experiment and type “virginity” into Google; I’m curious to see the most popular searches. “Virginity statistics, virginity auction, virginity quotes, virginity pledge” reads the list. The list doesn’t help much except to reestablish what I don’t want this article to be about.
“Granny Annie had devoted her life to others in a manner that was awe-inspiring. Even winds upward of 100 miles per hour and torrential rain could not stymie her optimistic spirit, the hope that coursed through her family’s veins.”
Gemma Farrell is tall, blonde, and impossibly flexible—even at 52 years old, she can extend her leg at a 90+ degree angle. Her voice is soft and sweet, yet powerful and compelling. When you walk into Gratitude Yoga, her studio … Read More
I heard this from someone who’d heard it from one of the directors of this year’s production of The Vagina Monologues here at Princeton. Intrigued by the pairing of frat boys and vaginas (in monologue form), I reached out to this year’s directors, Azza Cohen ’16 and Olivia Robbins ’16, to get the full story of what happened at Penn and to see if anything similar was happening at Princeton.
I have been many things throughout my tenure at Princeton—a human, a tiger, a journalist, drunk—but I have never been a lady. Through no fault of their own, approximately one half of mankind never experiences the triumphs and challenges of womanhood, and I am destined to remain among them.
I’m sitting on one of the loveseats in the Starbucks on Nassau Street, weirdly conscious of my calves sticking to the cold leather seat covers, experiencing what I imagine only certain paparazzi have felt at the peaks of their careers. The strangeness of spending years seeing someone in two dimensions, only to have them sitting across from you, alive and fidgeting. Lorena Grundy gestures at my coffee cup.