How to find Mr. Right or at least meet someone broaching decent. If I had a dime for every time my friends and I have had that conversation in the last eight months I’d be well on my way to paying off the student loans I’m sure to accrue over the next five to seven years. Unfortunately, I don’t receive a dime and my friends don’t receive an answer either. In the issue of Cosmopolitan, the editors of Maxim ventured some almost-sound advice on “how to get a man to make a beeline for you at a bash;” their only flaw came in their inability to draw the line between attracting Mr. Right and attracting Mr. Right’s libido. Then again, maybe they’re just confused on exactly what girls might consider a “good guy.”

Cosmopolitan and Maxim compliment each other in their appeal to young adult audiences. Each claims an insider’s view on the opposite sex and thus instructs young women and men on how to make themselves more appealing to their love interests mentally, emotionally, and, most importantly, sexually.

“How to Get Picked Up at a Party” provides insights on the five essential aspects on how to snag “Mr. Right”: the entrance, ensemble, entourage, execution, and exit. First off, they poignantly remind their female readers that men “need to be hit over the head—especially at a party where every woman is clad in black.” They suggest thinking in color—something bright, like red, that makes you stand out against an often black tableau. The authors also advise us that guys would rather see you laughing naturally with your friends than coyly pointing at them from across the room; pointing, according to Maxim, implies flaws and thus scares men away. After making eye contact, maintain an assertive, but natural tone and approach them. Making this step is essential in the evening’s conquest, as you’ve taken the “initiative” in the situation. You’ve shown you’re interested. It’s all downhill from there and assuming all goes well you’ll be able to slide your interest in seeing him again into your grand exit. If he hasn’t asked for your digits, pull what Maxim refers to as a “Jedi mind trick” and suggest that he get in touch with you to partake in whatever spare-time activities graced your conversation. Maxim reminds us though that there’s a “clincher” to the pick up scenario that most girls neglect: get his number too as often times men are “pathetically disorganized” and often lose the napkin, pizza box, or other miscellaneous scrap of paper on which you scribbled your number.

So yeah, Maxim successfully shares with Cosmo’s audience the same, dignified advice our older sisters and mothers have been sharing with us all along. The problem I’m finding with their good advice is that it is equally as demeaning. Actually, the demeaning debauchery of the article seems to outweigh its redeeming aspects. Every one of their foci comes back to one common theme: getting the guy into your bed or vice versa. Maxim advises the readers to enter the party with less attractive friends thus establishing yourself as the so-called “pretty one.” They propose that when planning your evening’s ensemble you aim to make dad disapprove, the tighter, lower, and flashier the better. The authors not so tactfully remind us that “no man will ever learn about [your personality and wit] if you don’t entice him.” In a quote box titled “Words to the Wise,” the authors provide a list of pick up lines my favorite of which are “Can I show you my new panties? Whoops, must’ve forgotten’em!” and “Wow, I’m sooo drunk!” Amusingly, asking for his number at the end of the evening is only the second best option for the evening’s exit. Their preferred parting activity is asking him for sex with a catchy phrase like “I no want talk. Sex now.” Right …

I’m hardly what one might consider an “angry feminist” and neither are my friends. I don’t hate men and must admit that I often scan bars and fraternity parties for that certain man that could be a “good guy.” But whoever told Maxim that’s the kind of guy I, or any of my female peers, want to see again, is probably only thinking with his penis. Okay, so that’s a little harsh but I do have a sneaking suspicion that the random guy who gets your number because you tell him that you want sex or happen to be naked under that oh so tight and conveniently short ensemble is not quite what you had in mind.