Dear Baroness, 
Do you think men and women can be friends? Do you think that if a woman is out for an evening, having a good time and gets talking to a group of men, that she should assume they want only one thing from her? Do you think she is leading them on if she accepts their invitation to join their party? 
I know how I feel about the subject, but others disagree with me and I want to hear what you have to say about the matter. 
Signed, 
One of the Boys
 
Darling One of the Boys, 
What a question for the ages. Can women and men be friends? I say yes. But it’s admittedly complex. Does the man have any sort of sexual attraction to the woman? Vice versa? Do they have a history? Does one like the other in that way but the other does not? Is one married to the friend of another? 
Here is the thing, darlings, if you have repressed or unadmitted feelings for anyone, you are not being honest and thereby you have a relationship based upon a lie, in essence. But on the other hand, it really serves no one to profess your love to your best friend’s wife, now does it? This will only make future dinner parties awkward and in fact, you may not ever be invited again.
If, as you’ve said in your example, you are out socially and get talking to a group of the opposite sex, there is no reason why you cannot co-mingle without the intention of shagging. You raise a glass together, perhaps cut a rug to Bizarre Love Triangle at 3am and try to yell something complimentary about the sweet throwback dance moves of the other over the din. Perfectly innocent.
If you’re at a club (not really the place to be conversing), some would argue that if you agree to a dance, you’re in essence agreeing to more. Which is utter poppycock.  If the men are on a bachelor party at a private table with bottles of flowing booze and they offer some to you and you say yes, well, then, guess what? You still have no obligation to accept the horizontal invitation of the man mountain, Ed, the concrete manufacturing king of Pittsburgh, or any of his contemporaries. 
Though you did use this as an example, I would certainly not think this is a place where one would be trying to become friends with the opposite sex. A little flirting, even some dirty dancing can be great fun and should not bring with it the expectations of sex (of any kind) or friendship. It’s a moment. That’s all. And if you happen to have somewhat of a spark with one of Ed’s friends and he asks for your card at the end of the night in a respectful non-groping way, then you are welcome to hand it over. 
Recently I was in the mountains, enjoying a solo luncheon in the cozy dining room of one of my favorite hotels and in came a group of men, all dressed somewhat similarly – obviously belonging to some sort of club - and having a jolly good time. The only free table was one almost adjoining mine and so they sat very close. It was not long before they were smiling and chatting me up, in a harmless and charming way. They had many questions about the fact that I was alone, and seemed somewhat concerned even. After agreeing to their offer of a glass of wine (several, really) and indulging in a clever and witty conversation, we became what I would call acquaintances of the moment.
Things potentially changed when two of the men asked what I was doing later. Did I want to join in their evening’s entertainment? (Which included watching a live sporting event, dinner and then a party at a private club.) I seriously considered it. Was I interested? Yes. Was I hesitant? Indeed. Is life short? Yes, indeed. Do I pride myself on being spontaneous and taking advantage of moments? Yes. Indeed. Knowing that several of them were married men and them not knowing my status, I asked if other ladies would be joining. They looked at one another. Finally, after a few awkward moments, one piped up. “No. Actually. The ladies don’t arrive until tomorrow.” They all looked like little boys. One was actually blushing. They didn’t know what I’d say and neither did I. 
In the end, the decision was not a difficult one for me. I made it clear that I would very much enjoy spending the evening with a group of charming men such as themselves and that I hoped to meet their partners the next day. This changed the dynamic and I could see a few of them exhale with relief. I’ve mentioned this before, darlings. Expectation management. And though this was a very subtle variation on this theme, it was enough to make us all feel quite secure moving into our evening. Besides, when I considered my evenings plans - dining solo and writing in my room (wearing a fabulous new caftan I’d picked up), theirs seemed much more enticing. 
I had the most wonderful evening, which was greatly enhanced by the fact that not one man made a pass at me, though the dirty jokes and cheeky comments abounded. (I was deemed able to handle it. One of the guys and all.) Were there men to whom I was attracted? Of course? Who wouldn’t be attracted to a Count who has a collection of Austin Healeys and a penchant for yachts and Yeats? But the Count is taken – by the Countess – and I’d have a terrible time giving up my stable of twenty-something Italian lovers just to move to a castle in the English countryside. 
You are in charge of you. Accept offers. Dance. Mingle. Drink. Laugh. Converse. Feel free to say no. Always. Know your limitations (remember how your inhibitions go out the window when you’ve had two bottles of wine) and remember that this is a moment. These are not your friends. In fact, it’s likely you’ll not see them again. And that’s okay. Moments like these are what make life wonderful. But don’t forget that having a fond memory is far better then whatever it is you’d call it when you remember that you agreed to meet Ed’s friend Wally in the loo for what he called, “The best 30 seconds of your life!” Just say no. 
As Ever,
xx The Baroness

Dear Baroness, 
I have a kind of boring yet important-to-me question. I have lots of dietary restrictions/allergies and a few other personal issues you might consider weird and am single. I want to go on dates but don’t want to bore a potential date with all my body’s workings too soon, you know?
What shall I tell them and when?
Signed, 
No meat, no dairy, no garlic, no sugar, no fun.
 
Darling boring (no fun), 
Oh dear me, I’m terribly sorry. That’s not at all kind and not at all what I meant to write. But here we are and I’ve not edited it out …. I guess I’m being a bit judgmental.
There are many things to discuss here: How soon to tell someone you’re dating about a potential deal breaker or at least a game changer and if it’s any of their business or not and then the details about what this eating thing is, because, believe me, people will ask and want to know why. 
There are many diet fads and eating habits. There are those who are vegetarians or vegan for political or health reasons and those who just prefer not to eat meat. These are choices but not necessarily dictated by one’s health (though I know this point can surely be argued). 
If you have a medical condition like Crohn’s or Celiac Disease then yes, this is a real problem. If you are sensitive to gluten (many people are) or lactose intolerant, then these are real things too, though it would not kill you to eat gluten or have milk. You may feel horrid after but you can have it.
No one wants to be the person who has to call attention to themselves by asking what is in everything on the menu. And the people around you likely won’t love it either. Sometimes it’s a cute affectation - like when your aged Aunt Helen, who lived in India for years and changed her name to Sultana and only eats non-processed food, asks the waiter to bring the package of every non-house-made ingredient to make sure it’s to her liking/standards/health rules. For the one time a year you need to dine with her, it’s somehow endearing.
As I see it, you really have two choices: you can steer the dating or you can just talk about your issues up front. By steer the dating, I mean that you can suggest non-food focused dates at first and then you can offer to cook or go to restaurants where you know you have options. After you have determined that this person with whom you’ve been spending time is kind and understanding, then there should be no problem telling them about your issues. Any person worth their salt will be supportive and may even be interested in trying to learn more about your challenges and how they can help you.
We all have things we are scared about sharing with a new person in our lives and there is always the question of how much is too much to share and when. This is something you have to feel. A good rule of thumb, of course, is not to share all the gory details of your ingrown toenails and your penchant for eating Big Macs in bed on the first date. As my mama always said, “Always leave ‘em wanting more.” I think she was referring to things of a more sexual nature, but the lesson fits here as well. Mystery is a good thing. Don’t forget this. So is honesty. And you can be both mysterious and honest. Trust me. And it works a charm. 
I am of the opinion that if you have a food preference or intolerance or allergy, that you take care of you. Order what you want and need. Ask about the ingredients. Don’t be foolish with your health in an attempt at being less high-maintenance. 
But I also think that you must not assume the world owes it to you to change their ways of eating. If you are, for example, staying in a chalet on a ski holiday and you are the only one of ten people who is vegetarian and each person cooks one night, that does not mean that everyone has to cook a vegetarian meal. You are responsible for your special needs. Some people might provide a vegetarian option, but you should not assume or expect one. 
Not everyone agrees with this. I’ve gotten into some heated arguments on this topic, but I’m not backing down on this one. 
So there you have it. Take care of you. Don’t share everything in the first five minutes and remember, everyone has their proclivities - things someone else might deem weird or high maintenance. Everyone. We’re all scared to open up and share who we really are, warts and all, as they say. But it’s also our silly little isms and otherness that make us unique and that’s how we fall for a person. “I’d like a shell of a human with no brain, no soul and no heart,” said no one ever. Fly your freak flag and see who joins in your parade.
As ever,
xx The Baroness
 

Dear Baroness, 
I have a very serious question for you:  Do you think I should stop drinking? I mean not altogether or anything but maybe for a while? Or maybe just drink less? I mean I know you don’t know me, but I just think it might be time. I was reflecting upon this past year and how shitty it’s been, and other than the obvious reasons (Donald Trump and pals, the death of Bowie, Prince, Leonard Cohen and George Michael . . .), I have to say that a lot of my most memorable times had a lot to do with alcohol. And that’s not cool, is it? And by memorable, I’m saying ending with sex. I mean, if I wouldn’t sleep with someone sober, why would I sleep with them when I’m drunk? Right? I mean that’s not always the case but sometimes it is, I must admit. And that’s not who I want to be. I actually would like a boyfriend and would like to stop just hooking up with hot guys. Where is that getting me?  So. I guess my question is, at what point in life should one stop getting drunk on dates and dragging them home with you?
And, where the heck have you been? Are you okay? I’ve missed you.
Signed,
Drunk Slut Darling Slut,
I hate calling you that. You’re not a slut, you’re a woman who likes sex. And who sometimes likes to use alcohol to lower her inhibitions, I’d imagine. We’ve all done that, darling, so please don’t beat yourself up. 
Also, unless you’re reclaiming the word and using it to refer to yourself as a sexually liberated woman, you’re propagating the negative stereotype of the word, which is not terribly helpful. Wouldn’t it be nice if we stopped using it altogether? If we said, she’s a gal who enjoys sex, or she’s dressed in quite a sexy way, instead of calling her a slut or saying she’s dressed slutty. That seems like good sense to me. Let’s work on that, shall we?
After all, we don’t call men sluts, now do we? Now there’s something we could talk about for hours on end. But you didn’t write asking for advice about the moral double-standard and so I’ll shelve it for now.
As far as your drinking goes, of course that’s only for you to decide. Does it interfere with your judgment? Sounds like it might at times. Maybe you enjoy it. Perhaps you need it to relax? Maybe you have hang ups about sex and intimacy and drinking lessens them? Many of us could certainly relate to this one. It’s scary to be intimate with another person. Especially before you know them well. And when you’re dragging them home on the first date, how can you possibly know them?
And then, I imagine, it becomes a bit of a vicious cycle. Get drunk. Take a stranger home. Wake up (in the middle of the night or the morning), look at the stranger in your bed (or you in theirs) realize you don’t know them. (Sometimes not ever their name. Mom would be so proud!) Decide one of two things: 
 1.You want to get to know them and have a good feeling about the night before, which then leaves you with having to back track and try to navigate something with someone who now might only see you as a sexual conquest rather than someone they’d like to date. Or perhaps they like you too and you both have no hang ups about first date hook ups and you can move forward from there, which is terribly grown up in its own way but carries with it its own challenges. 
 2. You need to get out of there fast (preferable without waking them à la Coyote Ugly ) and go home and take a shower and erase/block their number. Of course this is problematic if you’ve brought them home to your place and need to wait until they wake up and then if they are lingerers, you’re screwed. What if they want coffee? Or expect breakfast? This particular person likely enjoyed the night and might even like you. But you don’t like them and are regretting the evening, so good luck with this scenario … Oy.
You get the picture . . . I could have gone on. That was fun. 
Let me say that it’s a powerful thing to recognize and consider one’s behavior and then even more powerful (and difficult) to change this behavior, but I know you can do it. 
It’s a new year – and while I’m a little tardy to the game – Happy New Year! Maybe this is the year to try something I like to call . . . SOBER SEX! Yes! It can be done and it can be fun! (So I’ve heard.) 
There is also something called … GETTING TO KNOW SOMEONE BEFORE GETTING NAKED WITH THEM! I’ve also heard this is advisable, even enjoyable! Someone please try it and get back to me! 
In all seriousness, my darling, if you want a boyfriend, get off Tinder (I hate to make assumptions, but you’re on Tinder aren’t you?) and get out in the real world. Or use a more reputable dating service for people who are actually looking for a relationship. Those have existed long before the likes of Tinder. ( Fiddler on the Roof , anyone?)
If you want to drink. Drink. Go out with your friends, get hammered and dance on the bar. Just try to limit your imbibing when you’re on a date. Seems pretty simple and straight forward. 
And before I leave you, thank you for your concern over my absence. I was on a trip. A long, strange trip. And now I’m back, better than ever. Sadly, my tan is faded and my young lovers are now only a memory but I’m here for you, darlings. Now more than ever.
As ever,
xx The Baroness

Dear Baroness,  I think I’m going to have an affair with a married man. I haven’t decided but there’s a very good chance it will happen. This seems very clinical, I know. Usually these things just sort of happen, or not. But I’m in a kind of negotiation with this married man I know and adore. And I must admit, I like the idea of having some rules. It still feels dangerous and exciting to me somehow. I know this is kind of crazy. Am I an idiot? I need some advice! 
Signed, 
Eyes Wide Open
  
Darling Eyes,
Bravo you! I love the idea of two grown ups talking about their potential – albeit it illicit - relationship. The fact that this man is married is, of course, a concern. But far be it from me to judge. Truly. 
For some reason this scenario you’ve mentioned has inspired me. Allow me to create a little fantasy if you will . . .
*    *     *     *     *     *     *     *    *
You run into one another out one night at an event. You have history. Your attraction is mutual. 
After a few drinks and much flirting, he says, “So . . . I think we need an arrangement. I want to see you. But I need to know, before I say anything else, if you are interested.” 
You say, “Yes.” Sheepishly. He continues. “You know my situation. I’m not leaving my wife.” You nod.He goes on. “It’s no good. It’s miserable, frankly, but that doesn’t need to concern you.” You’re still listening intently, waiting for the next step. 
“Evenings are out. Not as a rule, but they are much more difficult for me than daytime. I can be flexible during the day. Lunch…. Lunch. Maybe we meet for lunch.” 
He sounds like a man who has not done this before and is trying to figure it out on the spot and that gives you reassurance. 
He stares at you intently. You nod. You can do lunch. Lunch is doable.
You immediately begin to think about the details – will he come to your place? His place is out, obviously. Hotels are expensive, though he certainly can afford it. But then there are receipts. Potentially damning evidence. Nice hotels don’t take cash. That could be dangerous. But not your problem. Still. It’ll likely be your place. You’re okay with that. 
He tells you he can commit to once a week. That works for you, though you were thinking more like every two weeks. Details. We can work that out, you think. He says again. “I have to know I can trust you.”
Yes. You can be trusted. You don’t need to hear it again, but understand why he needs to say it again. He’s got a lot to lose. Not that you don’t. You tell him that if you wanted to, you could ruin a few lives. And they are bigger fish than he. You know that might sting, but you also know you need to get your point across and end the discussion. At least this point. He nods.
So … lunch.  Yes. Lunch.  Are we eating?  Are we? You tell me. I don’t want to eat food. Good answer.  Agreed. The only thing on the menu is you.
You blush but love it. He is now touching your hand. Playing with your fingers. Tracing their outline. You remember this is one of his things. It drives you mad. Your breathing quickens. People are all around, but he doesn’t seem to care. The spark of your two bodies touching is palpable. You go with it. You can’t not.
 You really like this idea. This lunch. A non-relationship relationship. With rules. Someone to get naked with once a week. Someone who makes you laugh and you enjoy talking with. A rare combination, surely. Someone who is a grown up and won’t play games. You’re quite sure of this.
Your mind wanders. Does he like lingerie? Nail varnish? Lipstick? Heels? What colors? Is he a red man? Pink? Nude? The thought of shopping for these things to wear for him excites you. He may even buy you gifts. The thought of him showing up for one of your lunches with a box tied up with a ribbon, containing something sexy/naughty thrills you even more. But this is not a movie and you know you should not get your hopes up. Still. He is the kind of man to do such things.
You know you won’t see him on weekends or holidays. You won’t be able to call. You hate the phone anyway. 
You tell him about the app CoverMe . You tell him it’s a safer place to send messages. And photos and videos. You blush as you tell him. 
Photos, hmmm? He smiles. “I look forward to that.”
He mentions that the thought of fucking you sober turns him on. Though you are not completely sober now, you are also not drunk. He moves to stand behind you and presses up against you and begins to move with the music. You push back against him and he responds. 
You know you’re going to do it. Have this affair. There is no question in either of your minds. But not tonight.
A few of his friends come over and interrupt your moment. Perhaps they see what’s going on and are trying to subtly dissuade him; they know you and your history and can also sense the electricity between you.  It’s obvious you are in the midst of something naughty. 
You run away from them and step into the fresh air. You are face to face. Surrounded by others, but completely alone together. You know he’s dying to kiss you. To go home with you. You want this too, but you like like idea of waiting more. Anticipation is one of the greatest feelings and it’s so fleeting you want to relish it and experience it a little longer. 
He grabs your hand and drags you around the corner into the darkness. The light from the party, giving you both a glow. He asks, “May I kiss you?” You look into his impossibly dark eyes and whisper, “Of course.” 
*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *
Oh darling Eyes! 
What fun that was! Please forgive me for the indulgence. I could go on and on, (though I’m not sure I’m cut out for writing this sort of thing) but must get back to your important question and stop with my own silliness. 
Here’s my advice. Look yourself in the mirror and decide if you want to be in a real, grown up relationship with an AVAILABLE man or if this is good enough. You deserve more, you know. You deserve not to be anyone’s second fiddle. We all do. But the reality is not always so clear, is it? Sometimes we don’t want a full on relationship. It seems too much. Maybe you don’t want to be with someone who wants to spend every weekend together or maybe you don’t feel like navigating something and someone new. I get it. 
But please just make sure you are doing this for the right reasons and that you know the potential price you’ll pay. You may indeed fall in love and then what? 
While you’re trying to decide, watch this movie . It will likely push you in a certain direction. And not the one your mother would recommend. It did me when I saw it. I’ve been searching for a sexy French man with whom to have an affair ever since I watched it, alone, on a rainy afternoon in Manhattan. Oh how I adore this film. 
 Take care of you, darling.
As Ever,
xx  The Baroness

Dear Baroness,  My boyfriend just started going to see a new physiotherapist/massage therapist/guru kind of guy and he told him one of the reasons he (my boyfriend) was so exhausted all this time was because he was having too much sex. Which makes sense in that we have a good amount of sex and we’re fairly athletic and so it can be tiring, but this guru guy (his word, not mine) says that the reason my boyfriend is so tired is because he is losing his life force every time he comes. Is this true? Sounds kind of fishy to me.  
Signed, 
Sucking the Life Out of my Man
 
Darling Sucking the Life, 
This is a very interesting and timely question. I was just speaking to someone about this last night. The ‘life force’ of which you speak is what is called Ch’i in Chinese culture (ki in Korean and Japanese and similar to prana in Hinduism) and is thought to be an essential part of every living thing.
When people say that men loose their life force when they come, they are only partially correct. It’s when the ejaculate that they lose it. (And again, this is up for debate.) Many people don’t even know that orgasm and ejaculation are two different things. Men can have an orgasm without ejaculating . . . it’s true! It’s just a matter of information, training and practice . This practice is a big part of Tantra – by holding back and controlling your ejaculation, you can experience full-body, long-lasting and multiple orgasms . . .  what’s not to like about that?! 
Of course, it’s not about not ejaculating at all. That would be torture. It’s just about limiting the amount. And, as Monty Python likes to remind us, every sperm is sacred , so there’s that.
There is an old saying, “100 drops of sweat equal one drop of blood and 100 drops of blood equal one drop of semen ”.  If that’s true, then that’s pretty precious stuff. I personally would like to know where it falls on the scale in relation to gold. Can sperm be more precious than gold? Gold is so shiny. And looks great against my tanned skin. Hmmm. If anyone can help with that equation, I’d be forever grateful. 
I’m sure you’ve heard of sports doctors and coaches recommending their athletes not come before the big game so they can harness their sexual energy and keep that vital life force within them. Insert eye roll. But it’s true. And when I mentioned this to a few male friends, they were quite adamant that this advice and practice proved helpful to their concentration and performance. But I’m still dubious.
Conversely, there are also people who think that the only way a man can stay focused on work/ sports/responsibilities, or whatever it is he is supposed to be doing, is to make sure he is completely satisfied sexually so that he is not thinking about sex, which, according to some, happens anywhere between every 7 seconds (this theory has been debunked) and 19 times a day . But these are silly numbers . Men, like women, are individuals (!) and so they think independently of other men (for the most part) and it’s impossible to say how often ‘men’ think of sex or how often ‘women’ think of sex. Perhaps The Baroness will have to conduct her own study on this …
My friend Rob says that the only time he doesn’t have a wandering eye and is not thinking about other women is after he and his wife have sex a few times before he goes to work. He is completely spent and his sexual energy is gone and only then can he focus on work (and not on the boobs of some grandmother he just walked by – which happens to him, apparently, when he does not get enough sex).
I think the best thing to do is to have your boyfriend read this . And this . And maybe, if he’s still awake, this . You too. You’ll surely learn something and it will undoubtedly be fun research. Best homework assignment ever!
As Ever,
xx The Baroness

Dear Baroness,  I need you to weigh in on something. I was having a conversation with a friend the other day about the people we’ve dated and the topic of race came up. He asked me if I’d ever dated anyone who wasn’t Caucasian. I said no. He asked why. I said I’d never been attracted to any men who weren’t white. He was horrified and said I was a racist. 
I was blown away. I have black and Asian and Indian and all ranges of other friends who are non-white and I never think about it. Of course I don’t. Because I’m not racist. But as far as people I’m sexually attracted to, I would say that I’m only attracted to white men. He badgered me. “You’ve never wanted to have sex with a black man? An Asian? A South American?” My answer to all was no, but not because I’m racist. Because it’s a personal sexual preference. But now I can’t stop thinking about what he said and I’m worried I may be.
Am I racist?
Signed, 
Perhaps Too Vanilla
 
Darling Vanilla, 
Whoa. This is a big one. And thank you for writing. Such an important topic and intriguing question. 
It’s fine to have a type. But making sweeping generalizations based on the color of someone’s skin is exclusionary and indeed racist. Simple as that. And it doesn’t have to be just because of the color of someone’s skin. Saying you aren’t attracted to an entire segment of people basically means that there is no individuality within the group and no way you could make an emotional connection with anyone from this group of people. Which is ridiculous.
If you made a statement about not being attracted to men with brown eyes, people would think you were crazy and narrow-minded, right? You may have a type – I mean, who doesn’t? But most of us don’t end up with what we thought was our type – we end up with people we find funny and smart and kind and fabulous who may or may not have any of the physical traits we would list if made to do so. (I recommend you do this. It’s a fun exercise. Fate laughs at us.)
But how much of that ideal type you think you need/want/are attracted to comes from your head or your heart and how much is from what we’re fed by the media? What is attractive. What is beautiful. And it’s not just the media, of course. It could be that you grew up in a non-diverse area and were surrounded by people who looked just like you. It could be that your father was a bigot who had derogatory names for all groups other than whites and this still lives in a tiny place down deep inside you. Is this how it seeped in? Is it from church? The current republican party in the US? Ha. Sigh. There are many explanations but explanations are not excuses.
There are many possibilities as to why you might have this underlying leaning, but the point is, you are now a grown up and not likely still living under your father’s roof and have a brain and can use it and can learn and grow and mature and realize that your vast generalizations are not fair, not helpful and actually harmful.
Because you are asking the question and want to understand your behavior, you are far ahead of so many people who don’t question anything. So bravo for you. But your work is not done yet.
Spend some time thinking about where this came from and how you might process it and move forward with your thinking. Talking about it with smart people around you and reading about white privilege and racism in general are great places to start. 
Here’s a great read. You’re not a bad person. You’re just as screwed up as the rest of us. But you’re trying to become a better person and in my book, that’s a fabulous and respectable quality. I’d rather be friends with someone like you who wants to learn than someone who blindly follows all the ‘right’ things and never thinks for themselves.
But seriously, darling. Can you really tell me you don’t think Edris Elba is fine? What about Rami Malek? Gael Garcia Bernal? Nacho Figueres? Raza Jaffrey? Taye Diggs? You need to get your eyes checked if you don’t want a piece of these fine specimens.  Yum. You're only hurting yourself!  As Ever,
xx The Baroness