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According to the piece, which collated census data, the East Coast is awash in single femmes, while the West Coast is single-dude-heavy, which is why it smells like beer and gym socks out there. All joking aside, the story attached a number to something we’ve been feeling for a while (especially this spring)—single women are legion in the city, and the local culture makes it especially easy to remain unattached. What we discovered is that, despite ridiculous media portrayals of New York’s single women as ambitious man-hungry climbers who put on a brave face while secretly fretting over their status (the still-influential Sex and the City was particularly guilty of perpetuating this stereotype while birthing some inexcusable fashion and drink trends), the women we talked to were remarkably okay with being single. Happy, even. Young and old, and across socioeconomic and cultural divides, they admitted it was difficult to find a mate, that men here aren’t looking to settle down, but went on to say that they were hardly vexed by their situation. If anything, we detected a sort of metadespair, a despair over not despairing, because many of the women we spoke with want to get married in time, and have children, but wonder what will ultimately compel them to take those steps if they’re truly happy going solo
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