Our L.A. Girl Carrie Tries Dating in NYC
Carrie visits wedding dress designer Matthew Christopher and gets advice from a bride-to-be!
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Carrie: State of Denial
Elizabeth: The Night of the Living Dead
Tyra Meets the Girls! Before beginning their blogs on tyrashow.com, our five, Single & Fierce ladies went on the show for a little meet-and-greet with Tyra. Check out what happened!
Single & Fierce - Meet Malena
I discovered boys at 12. At the time, there was little holding me back. I was already an overly expressive and exuberant child, and since I can remember, speaking well was valued over obedience in my house, and finding my individuality was more important than fitting in. So when it came to boys, I dove boldly into the mix, knowing if I messed up, I could at least talk my way out of anything.
Single & Fierce - Meet Katie
This established, I haven’t always lived in the city I fondly refer to as helL.A. (It’s a love-hate relationship.) I moved here 2.5-ish years ago from a suburb outside St. Louis. No, I did not grow up on a farm. Moving on.
Single & Fierce - Meet Rachel
Single & Fierce - Meet Carrie
Still, I hang in there, hoping some semi-cute, semi-successful guy comes to his semi-senses and chooses something healthy for once. Because hey, vitamins can be fun and sexy, too! And they rarely require rehab.
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My phone buzzed. It was him! The lawyer/ engineer/entrepreneur I’d decided I would quite possibly marry. It mattered not that I’d never spoken to him, much less laid eyes on him. He wrote intelligent, challenging emails. He was articulate on world affairs, with a feisty/flirty style. He ran iron man marathons, loved his parents and seemed to dig me. Someone call Vera Wang!
We've all done things we knew were bad ideas before we did them, like when I agreed to go on a date with a boy I'd already dumped. As a general rule, scorned boys are bad for business. Break-ups damage their egos, and they usually don't handle things well. So, ladies, I bring you a cautionary tale. 
So I'm the kind of girl who can talk to anyone about anything, which is why I became a journalist. But when it comes to romantic love, I only know how to talk with my body, through sex. 
Hey. I’m Katie. I’m 24. I live in West L.A. I’m single. I have a lot of hair. And for future reference, I am totally awesome. Ask around.
“When are you getting engaged?” When I visit my native Mississippi, that’s the question that they ask first. Not if I have a boyfriend, or if I’m seeing anyone special. Not even if I plan to get engaged one day. For a 23-year-old girl that’s not entirely unfortunate looking and comes from a good southern family, it’s assumed I’m attached to someone. It’s when that ring will appear on my finger that they want to know. And it’s not that they inquire out of malice. They’re just genuinely interested. 
I’ve decided being an intelligent single girl in L.A. is like being a vitamin in Amy Winehouse’s medicine cabinet. You know she should choose you, but the girl’s got a lot of options. 
