Month: March 2013

Jezebel posted this story earlier about how a FEMALE Princeton alum wrote a letter to the editor of the Daily Princetonian wanting to share her pearls of Ivy League wisdom by telling “the daughters [she] never had” to know that they’re screwed for life if they don’t snag a Princeton prince by first semester freshman year.”

I am trying to access the DP’s site to read this gem in its entirely but legitimately think Jezebel’s post caused all of us doomed, irate, 30-somethings to head on over to the site and give them the what for and as of right now I am pretty sure the site has crashed. So I have to do this somewhat blindly based on Jezebel’s post unless the site miraculously starts working again.

Point: For most of you, the cornerstone of your future and happiness will be inextricably linked to the man you marry, and you will never again have this concentration of men who are worthy of you.

BITCH, PLEASE: This is what you’re telling Princeton students? Really? This is your advice. Can we TALK about the quality of boys I met my freshman year? The overly beautiful president of Kappa Sig, who went by Tennessee, had perfect blue eyes and a southern drawl and would not give me the time of day even though I tried and forced my friend in KKG to give me his AIM name (SHUT IT, IT WAS 1999) and when I tried to chat with him he was like I literally do not know who you are. Then there was the dude whose dad worked for United and was just using me for my Comm 101 notes because all our professor did was talk about his canary yellow Nissan XTerra so Bob never went to class and even though I skipped every other class, he thought something was better than nothing. OR we can talk about the guy who offered to help me study for my first EVER midterm and stupid naive me actually brought my notes and all HE wanted to do was make out – cut to me getting a D-!!! I don’t give two shits that I didn’t go to Princeton, and p.s. this is not 1973 and 18-year old boys are not interested in meeting a long-term girlfriend the minute their parents unpack them and then drive off to their Connecticut mansion in their BMW. They want to get drunk and plow everything in site and YOUR ADVICE is that we should marry one of them? Pffffft. Oh, and by the WAY, I found a MOST FLATTERING picture of you:

Point: (Talking about how she went to some event there): I attended the event with my best friend since our freshman year in 1973. You girls glazed over at preliminary comments about our professional accomplishments and the importance of networking. Then the conversation shifted in tone and interest level when one of you asked how have Kendall and I sustained a friendship for 40 years. You asked if we were ever jealous of each other. You asked about the value of our friendship, about our husbands and children. Clearly, you don’t want any more career advice. At your core, you know that there are other things that you need that nobody is addressing. A lifelong friend is one of them. Finding the right man to marry is another.

BITCH, PLEASE: But most of all they need a good therapist. And, instead of steering them back to your accomplishments, whatever they may be, or perhaps offering that there is more to life than meeting your future spouse when you’re 18, you fed in to their petty bullshit questions? Furthermore, if that’s all they TRULY care about, I am concerned these girls are hogging admission spots at Princeton that could be used by people who ACTUALLY WANT AN IVY LEAGUE DEGREE rather than a rich man fishing pole.

Jezebel notes that: Her two sons are both Princetonians; one already married a classmate of his, although he “could have married anyone,” but, lucky for Princeton ladies, her younger son is still a junior — catch him while you can! — although “the universe of women he can marry is limitless,” as he is a man who aced his SATs.

BITCH, PLEASE: I truly pity your current and future daughter-in-laws because you sound like a delusional whack job.

Point: Here is another truth that you know, but nobody is talking about. As freshman women, you have four classes of men to choose from. Every year, you lose the men in the senior class, and you become older than the class of incoming freshman men. So, by the time you are a senior, you basically have only the men in your own class to choose from, and frankly, they now have four classes of women to choose from. Maybe you should have been a little nicer to these guys when you were freshmen?

BITCH, PLEASE: I seriously feel like my head might explode now. We’ve already addressed how most people do not marry someone they meet their freshman year. But college is about finding yourself and learning what you are and what you are not. Why the fuck would anyone want to latch on immediately to a relationship before they even have a chance to experience classes and all-nighters and roommates and adjusting to life away from home for the first time? Is this really what you’re condoning? Not only finding a husband before you graduate, but an older one? GOD FORBID A WOMAN DATES A YOUNGER MAN. God forbid ANY OF US graduate single and experience life and can do whatever we want, even if that means moving ten times in like a year and half because we are trying to figure things out and we don’t have to drag someone else around with us because some Princeton alum convinced us it was A LIFE NECESSITY to meet your future spouse above all else? And what if (GASP) someone decides they don’t WANT to get married? Are we doomed to fail in life because you’re still living in the 1870’s?

LADY, I am embarrassed for you and your poor son who is still there and will probably never get laid again because no woman in her right mind would want to marry into your family.

I can’t even form coherent sentences I am so mad.

UPDATE – Below is the letter in its entirety. Now the comments section won’t load. The fun never ends!

Advice for the young women of Princeton: the daughters I never had
Forget about having it all, or not having it all, leaning in or leaning out — here’s what you really need to know that nobody is telling you.

For years (decades, really) we have been bombarded with advice on professional advancement, breaking through that glass ceiling and achieving work-life balance. We can figure that out — we are Princeton women. If anyone can overcome professional obstacles, it will be our brilliant, resourceful, very well-educated selves.

A few weeks ago, I attended the Women and Leadership conference on campus that featured a conversation between President Shirley Tilghman and Wilson School professor Anne-Marie Slaughter, and I participated in the breakout session afterward that allowed current undergraduate women to speak informally with older and presumably wiser alumnae. I attended the event with my best friend since our freshman year in 1973. You girls glazed over at preliminary comments about our professional accomplishments and the importance of networking. Then the conversation shifted in tone and interest level when one of you asked how have Kendall and I sustained a friendship for 40 years. You asked if we were ever jealous of each other. You asked about the value of our friendship, about our husbands and children. Clearly, you don’t want any more career advice. At your core, you know that there are other things that you need that nobody is addressing. A lifelong friend is one of them. Finding the right man to marry is another.

When I was an undergraduate in the mid-seventies, the 200 pioneer women in my class would talk about navigating the virile plains of Princeton as a precursor to professional success. Never being one to shy away from expressing an unpopular opinion, I said that I wanted to get married and have children. It was seen as heresy.

For most of you, the cornerstone of your future and happiness will be inextricably linked to the man you marry, and you will never again have this concentration of men who are worthy of you.

Here’s what nobody is telling you: Find a husband on campus before you graduate. Yes, I went there.

I am the mother of two sons who are both Princetonians. My older son had the good judgment and great fortune to marry a classmate of his, but he could have married anyone. My younger son is a junior and the universe of women he can marry is limitless. Men regularly marry women who are younger, less intelligent, less educated. It’s amazing how forgiving men can be about a woman’s lack of erudition, if she is exceptionally pretty. Smart women can’t (shouldn’t) marry men who aren’t at least their intellectual equal. As Princeton women, we have almost priced ourselves out of the market. Simply put, there is a very limited population of men who are as smart or smarter than we are. And I say again — you will never again be surrounded by this concentration of men who are worthy of you.

Of course, once you graduate, you will meet men who are your intellectual equal — just not that many of them. And, you could choose to marry a man who has other things to recommend him besides a soaring intellect. But ultimately, it will frustrate you to be with a man who just isn’t as smart as you.

Here is another truth that you know, but nobody is talking about. As freshman women, you have four classes of men to choose from. Every year, you lose the men in the senior class, and you become older than the class of incoming freshman men. So, by the time you are a senior, you basically have only the men in your own class to choose from, and frankly, they now have four classes of women to choose from. Maybe you should have been a little nicer to these guys when you were freshmen?

If I had daughters, this is what I would be telling them.

Susan A. Patton ’77

President of the Class of 1977

New York, N.Y.