Late to the obvious, again

Maureen Dowd discovers the concept of slumming:

Even some men I know felt awful for the unwitting slump busters who would now read “Juiced” and realize that the best night of their lives was actually the worst. That really cute baseball player they thought liked them just the way they are, as Bridget Jones likes to say, was really holding his nose to break a curse. Way harsh.

At the dawn of feminism, there was an assumption that women would not be as severely judged on their looks in ensuing years. Phooey. It’s just the opposite. Looks matter more than ever, with more and more women spending fortunes turning themselves into generic, plastic versions of what they think men want, reaching for eerily similar plumped-up faces and body shapes.

Tune in next week, when Maureen enlightens us to the hot new phenomenon of “beer goggles”, which involves intoxicated fraternity boys hooking up with girls they wouldn’t pay any attention to when sober. As usual, Dowd is not only decades out of it, but she has no genuine point; her apparent conclusion implies that it would be better if men, like women, were willing have sex with ugly members of the opposite sex because they are wealthy.