I get emails every day about relationship issues, mostly from women, plus I explore forums and boards each and every day, looking at what other women have to say.  I love reading what my fellow Vulvans think, feel, and do, but I'm increasingly disturbed-slash-intrigued about what I hear about what happens "post-nuptials."

I was reading one particular forum about marriage and I stumbled across a particularly questionable question posed by a newlywed...

"When can I stop getting dressed up and shaving my legs for my new husband?"

I read a lot of answers, most of which were pretty in line with reality.  Responses like, "What the hell?!" and "Umm, like, never," were fairly common, but none really addressed the core issue.  More importantly, not one single answer came close to the shock and horror I felt when I read it...mainly because I see this girl's reality every time I go to the Walmart, the Real Canadian Superstore, the Target, and any other bi-border big-box superstore.

Last week, I was at the US Target and Walmart Supercentre and witnessed women actively perusing and shopping in their pyjamas.  Ugly, holey, ratty, soup-stained pyjamas...in public.  Even better, I saw several of these women in the "Valentine's Day" aisle, looking over the heart-shaped boxes of candy and stuffed bears.  One of these chicks was actually with her man, waggling a stuffed animal at him, and bitching about what she wanted.  Yes, whilst in pyjama bottoms, a ratty T-shirt, and without makeup to mask her awful skin.

She was yelling at him about letting the "romance out of" their relationship.

Hairy arms, dirty hair, mossy teeth, and a decidedly *unfresh* aroma in her wake all added to her alluring charms, so I could I only imagine what was going on under the the Tweety Bird flannel pants... if ANYone was devoid of "romance," it was Bitchy Pyjama Woman.

I've been with my partner for over a dozen years.  A lot of people ask what keeps the glue sticking for all these years, and my answer is: makeup and lingerie.  Oh, yeah, and SHAVING YOUR FREAKING LEGS.  (And bikini regions to your preferred degree.)

For Valentine's Day, I asked to stay home, so my hubby made me delicious snow crab legs, steamed asparagus, and fleur de sel crackling over all of it.  But, before all that, I locked myself in the washroom, and gave myself a total makeover.  Soaked, scrubbed toes, a home pedi, red nails (fingers and toes), total body exfoliation, a face masque, and my hair washed, styled, blown-out, and dusted with glitter.  Yes, glitter.

Why glitter, you ask?  Because Mr. Bray likes glitter.  I also fluffed it all over my clavicle, cleavage, cheekbones, arms, and tummy.

I then spent hours doing full makeup (Mr. B. likes LOTS of eyeliner and dark shadow, along with red lips), and picking out the PERFECT outfit....including lingerie.  My husband loves wrap dresses, so I wore my Ralph Lauren Black Label frock.  He also has a slight...umm...thing for thigh-highs and fishnet...so...I found my favourite pair of thigh-high, fishnet hold-ups.  Plus, well, his particular favourite underthings.  (Thank you: La Perla, La Senza, and Victoria's Secret)  It was all topped off with 4" open-toed, designer, satin, stilettos.  Yes...at home.

A few spritzes of Miss Dior Cherie, some smooth lotion (same fragrance), and a pink-heart vagazzle (I'm an open book...no such thing as TMI), and I was ready for my Valentine.

And he returned the favour.

The living room was spotless and completely illuminated by candles...even on the wall. No blazing bulbs anywhere to be found outside of the fairy lights.  The table was spread with everything perfect...sparkling water, pink Cava, AND chardonnay, linen napkins, fairy lights, and when it came time, he pushed the coffee table and ottoman back and we danced the night away on our freshly-polished hardwood floors.  Even the kitty seemed happy.

The whole night was idyllic, and Mr. B. was dressed in my favourite ensemble for him, so the favour was reciprocated.

The moral of the story: If you want the romance out of your marriage/relationship/partnership...stop shaving your legs.  Then, don't wear makeup.  And, if your mate isn't fed up yet, gain forty pounds (at LEAST), wear ugly nightwear, stop washing your hair, and refuse to give oral.

I'm just sayin'...

I'm offering this as a blanket response to all those who write me and ask, "A.J., why has my husband/wife stopped paying attention to me sexually?  Why did he/she largely ignore me on Valentine's Day/our anniversary/birthday?"

So...did you shave your legs?  Both sides AND your thighs?  Is your hair done?  Did you do your makeup?  Did you don pretty lingerie AND a sexy outfit on top?

If any of that came out as a lowly muttered "no," then go fix it.  Because, your 112th date should be MORE exciting, and you should put MORE effort into it than you did your first.

Fist dates come and go, but 112th ones are pretty serious, ladies.  *grin*