The Independent Florida Alligator’s Ashley Ross gives a few tips on how to stay classy sexy over the summer. Granted, Florida’s weather is a bit different from the Bay Area’s—but with a little bit of imagination, you too will be thinking “No, my friend, these summer tips are too sexy!” Spoiler alert: pool parties are key. Also, cold weather—not so fun.

Over at Ohio University, The Post’s Alisa Caton tackles the ever-present conflict between simply hooking up and committing to a longer relationship. The reason for prevailing campus preferences toward hook ups? The male psyche. Oh, and alcohol too, but that’s definitely secondary.

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Earlier: Five Stages, Sexual Beauty, and Classy Advice

Many of us have experienced sudden flare-ups of paranoia, whether they turn out to be something worth looking at or not. Carmel tackles the puffy issue of herpes in this week’s Sex on Tuesday.

Paranoid Ponderings

Carmel DeAmicis

The other day, my friend called me frantically seven times in a row, in official freakout mode. I called her back as soon as I got this text: “Would you still love me even if I had herpes?” She pulled an all-nighter scrolling through WebMD, Wikipedia and Google image searches, trying to see if her symptoms matched. I went into friend-therapist mode and promised to come over to inspect the offending area (you know you have a true friend when they’re willing to play gynecologist).

But my BFF loyalty never got put to the test. Instead of stripping off her clothes to show all, my friend pulled down her jeans just

Read the rest of the column here or in Tuesday’s paper.

Image Source: bensonkua under Creative Commons
Earlier: Everyone’s a Tool

Is giving a casual hookup the cold shoulder a gender thing or a defensive thing? Or a gendered defensive thing? Explore clothed encounters of the awkward kind with Carmel in this week’s column.

When Sex Gets Sticky

Carmel DeAmicis

As a casual hookup ends, I often experience the strange sensation of a social role descending upon me and pinning me in place. In the days or weeks afterward, when I bump into him on the streets I feel disconcertingly positioned in the cliched role of “clingy girl.” As he gives a quick wave without the hint of a smile, or blatantly averts his eyes in passing, I feel doused in an icy bucket of water. In the course of time between our naked antics and clothed passing, I have become someone that he has to guard himself against. He fears I’ll misinterpret friendliness or common courtesy as an invitation to fall in love.

On some level, I find it frustrating to be unceremoniously flagged with a “caution” label. From my perspective, I’m on the same playing field as the men I hook up with.

Read the rest of the column here or in today’s paper.

Image Source: Cayusa under Creative Commons