A bad boyfriend, who gave her a Dandie Dinmont terrier as a Christmas present, is immortalized in print.
“If your lover wants to buy you a pet, opt for a bathrobe instead—it will hardly become a bone of contention if and when your relationship winds down and out.” The man didn’t stick, but the dog, Elizabeth, did.
Despite proposals from nine separate men, she says, she never married or had children, and has no regrets about a life spent traveling, collecting vintage clothing, and dabbling in real estate.
People having unprotected sex, things that I did when I was in Europe …
” Her dating life from that period found its way into the paper.
Many of the seekers were divorced, and looking for an alternative to the carousel of what the authors of “Courtship American Style” call “the tedious and meaningless …
round of bars and singles’ clubs.” One ad says the writer is looking for “a little fun and excitement and a lot of deep down feeling but not wedding bliss (I’ve gone that route).” “The ads in this paper read a little like the ask-bid columns of the New York Stock Exchange,” wrote those authors, Catherine Cameron, Stuart Oskamp, and William Sparks.
(Correspondingly, the men seem to have fudged a little—many listed their height as at least one inch above the average.).
The paper, Appleberg says, was fashioned after an English singles magazine.
Throughout those years, and for most of her life, Appleberg has been a prolific dater.
Though she is agnostic about how she found those dates, she never placed an ad in the paper.
She’s now on Nick, her fourth companion of the breed, who caterwauls with joy as he hears her climbing the stairs.