I wanted to praise David Duford’s letter (“Feminist movement has hurt our society,” March 31, p.8) for giving me an excellent insight into what men look for in a woman, and so to increase my chances of getting some, I have decided to follow his advice. How does this sound, David?

I want to be the girl who wears short skirts with Uggs and tank tops that expose 75 percent of my cleavage, even though I do not have any fatty tissue on my upper body because I have not yet decided if I am anorexic or bulimic. I am not fat like those feminist morons; they only complain about what real women wear because they do not have any self-confidence and are ugly anyway. I want to wear a pound of make-up on my face, rim my eyes with black eyeliner and convince myself how terrible my life has been. I want to tell everyone about my tragic, whitewashed, suburbanite upbringing; how my parents can choke up the $40,000 plus a year to attend this school; the $300,000 home; the gas guzzler; and the Mexicans who mow the front lawn. I could have had anything I wanted, except love, because my Daddy was never home and Mommy liked to invite Captain Morgan over and pop pills.

I want to be the girl who boys come to when they want to talk about Holden Caulfield or masturbation; the girl with whom you can have a really deep, intense relationship, the kind that makes you a better person. The same girl who spreads like cream cheese, fakes orgasms, comes to college for her MRS degree and has no ability to think for herself except when it comes to the good deals in Filene’s Basement or the Macy’s President’s Day Sale.

And because I am so aware and caring about global issues like the overpopulation problems in China, Africa and India (after all, I came to such a worldly school), I would have an overwhelming desire to have four kids of my own, so the legacy of whiteness will never be eradicated from the planet, because we all know how dangerously small a population we are becoming. Besides, we have the best country on the planet; so many others could learn from our example, and I want to keep that legacy alive. With the inner-city situation being what it is, I will want to move back to suburbia, where my four darling babies will grow up and perpetuate. All this before I am 30 years old, because we all know my biological clock is ticking. Oh, and I would start an organization denouncing Communism too. I want to be the most ignorant woman alive. David Duford, will you marry me?

Erin Sachs CAS ’08