St. Tropez, the tanning brand that apparently also doubles as an enchanted witch’s mirror, has released a study that claims every Wednesday afternoon women look their worst due to all the carousing and boozing they’ve done over the weekend. Nice that they can pinpoint it to the exact minute, eh?
But hold on for a second. Not only do women look their worst, but they also look their oldest. Sheesh. Why not just claim all women turn into shrieking sea harpies at the stroke of midnight too?
They say by midweek is when “energy levels plummet, work stress is at a peak and the effects of any weekend late nights finally kick in.” But! And here’s the best part of the entire study! “Thursday is the day women are most likely to have sex.” Yes, women are also capable of flipping on a “boom-chicka-wow-wow” magic sex-switch after that nasty bridge troll we keep hidden under our Spanx sloughs off until the following week when it appears again like an insatiable Jabberwocky RIGHT BEFORE THE SEX!
So let’s get this straight, women go from looking like the bottom of an Ugg boot that’s traipsed through the scum and bile of a New York City street corner, to being irresistible, come-hither sexingtons by Thursday night which then “gives women a youthful rosy glow which could contribute to why women feel so happy on a Friday, of which 60 percent name as their happiest day.” Haha! WHAT?! Wouldn’t many people, regardless of gender, name Friday their happiest day of the week? Is it somehow novel that women would find Friday to be better than all the other mundane weekdays without the “rosy glow” of a sex-filled Thursday? What do the braintrusts over at St. Tropez think TGIF actually stands for? “Three-thirty Girls Irrefutably Fugly?” Perhaps. If we had to rename it based solely on this study we’re going to go with “Tropez’s Gender-Bias Is Fucked” instead. It’s not like there’s a study that says, “Hey! At 2:15pm dudes will become John McCain at a Benghazi hearing.”
Uh-oh, ladies! It’s nearly 3:30! Whatever shall we do? Don’t you feel a change beginning to happen? You know, we’re not like other humans. We’re…different.
Not sure what St. Tropez’s endgame is, but we’re sure it has nothing to do with hoping legions of women flock to their product to somehow look for “rejuvenation” in a bottle. Nah, that’s not it at all.
Image: Flickr
