Tucking one’s trousers, freezing one’s eggs – The life of the affluent NYC female exposed

Just when I was beginning to think that the Observer was only useful for its deliciously snarky engagement announcements, I find two treasures in the same issue. First, a study of women who tuck their trousers into their boots. Who knew this was such a compelling story? It’s told in quotes from such authorities as a 25 year old “performer,” a 29 year old “stylist,” a 27 year old “d.j.,” and a 25 year old “freelance art collector.” Would you believe that the stylist dates a 30 year old “Carroll Gardens poet”? Before you try to join the ranks of these trendy gals, take a bit of advice from, you guessed it, another stylist:

“The problem I see with it most of the time is that people tuck the wrong pant into the wrong boot,” counseled Kate Young, 29, another stylist, who lives in the West Village. “I hate a skinny-heeled boot like a Jimmy Choo or a Manolo-type heel with pants tucked in. It’s unacceptable—completely gross. Or they wear the wrong pant, tuck it in like some kind of weird, baggy pant that then does this strange M.C. Hammer harem look. And I think people who are fat should never do it. I know that’s a horrible thing to say, but it’s not flattering. You just shouldn’t do it if you don’t want people to look at your butt.”

Next up, we ponder the eternal question on the minds of single women in their thirties: “Would you rather have a baby or an eye job?” There’s a strong argument for the baby, believe it or not:

“I think the thing with me is that I have not had a huge maternal instinct, ever. And I’ve been waiting for it to kick in since I was 30. And it just hasn’t kicked in,” said Mary Purdy, who turns 35 in two weeks and lives on the Upper West Side. “And so I keep on thinking: Is it really realistic, that I would never have a child? It sounds kind of crazy to think that I would never have one, but it’s crazy to think that I would have one. I kept on telling myself, ‘I don’t have to make the decision now, I have time.’ But now that I’m going to be 35, maybe I don’t have that much time. I still don’t want a child right now, but I might want one in the future, and I’m worried about the fact that by the time I want one, it will be too late for my body to conceive something.”

It’s rather simple: for the same price as many common cosmetic surgeries, a woman can now freeze her eggs for a chance at future baby making. It’s only a 30% chance that it’ll work, but never mind that pesky detail since your equally neurotic mom will foot the bill anyway. Now we can safely spend our twenties and thirties tucking/styling/freelance art collecting all over town without fear of missing out on the opportunity to add a mini-me to our lives at some distant point in the future. God bless America.