20 years ago, American writers Ellen Fein and Sherry Schneider collected advice on how a woman can get the man of her dreams in her best-selling book. Since then, the feminist movement has revived and strengthened, and such literature has received the label "sexist". However, the "New Rules" are still being reprinted and find many fans and followers. What is the secret?

Over the years, gurus Ellen Fein and Sherry Schneider have analyzed the behavior of women who are happy in their personal lives - those who have many suitors, who are successfully married and have a happy marriage. Oprah Winfrey called their best-selling book "The Rules for Winning the Heart of the Man of Your Dreams" a phenomenon and twice invited the authors to her talk show. People magazine classified the book as a must-read, and glossy magazines named it the best publication on relationships. The authors assure: over the 20 years of the existence of the “Rules”, millions of women have been able to feel their absolute effectiveness. They got a relationship full of love and respect, which spilled over into a happy and strong marriage. In The New Rules, female writers help modern women and girls communicate through Facebook, Skype, SMS, etc. and at the same time remain mysterious, maintain the instinct of a hunter in a man when there are so many “easy prey” around him, get married in an era when everyone lives in civil marriages and are reluctant to take responsibility.

"Men love difficulties and lose interest when the object of this interest - and especially a woman - gets them too easily."

“Secret way to get a guy: be a challenge for him. Treat him like you don't care about him,” urge Ellen Fein and Sherry Schneider. In their opinion, it is necessary to create an atmosphere of mystery and make a man crave meeting you, which is a rarity these days. “Rules” is a way of communicating with any man (provided that he first started a conversation with you, in person or on the Internet), thanks to which he becomes obsessed with you and is ready for a serious relationship.

How to Marry the Man of Your Dreams According to Ellen Fein and Sherry Schneider

Be a girl different from the rest and look like a girl different from the rest.

Do not approach a man first and do not start a conversation, do not call or write to a man first.

Do not invite men on a date via SMS, social networks and in no other way.

Wait at least 4 hours before replying to the man's first message, and at least half an hour before replying to each subsequent message.

"Let's talk/write later": always finish everything first - and disappear from sight!

Do not reply to SMS or any other messages after midnight.

Do not accept an invitation to a Saturday date later than Wednesday. "Right girls" lead a busy life. Of course, you've already made plans for the weekend before it's Thursday! If he invites you too late, don't reprimand him. Just say you're sorry, but you're busy.

Make yourself "invisible" for instant messaging. Even if nothing is happening in your life, you should not notify the guy about it by instantly responding to his messages. As with any other form of communication, he should wait for an opportunity to talk to you. To be interesting to you, he will have to work hard. Do not deprive a man of this opportunity by immediately answering messages and sitting online for hours! Remember, you have your own life (study, work, friends, hobbies, workouts, and hopefully dates) and you only have 10 minutes to chat and no more. If a guy has a lot to say and a lot to ask you, he can do it during a date!

Don't spend 24 hours a day, seven days a week with him.

Long-distance relationships: let him offer to Skype more often and visit you.

Don't text men first, ignore emoticons and winks on online dating sites.

Do not pay for dinner and do not buy his love in any way.

Do not commit self-destructive acts when dating married men. If he wants to see you, tell him to call you when he is single. And after that, no communication, forget it, say "next!" - and focus on finding men who are truly free.

Don't date a man who cancels your appointments more than once.

Do not send a man anything that would be unpleasant to leave him in the event of your separation.

Don't settle for one-night stands and pointless relationships.

Do not rush to sleep with a man. " Right girl” makes a guy wait to help him fall in love with her, with her soul, with her essence - and not just with her body. The longer you delay intimacy, the longer he will be able to care for you, plan romantic meetings and dream about you. Men love challenges and don't appreciate anything that comes too easy for them, especially sex!

Don't date a man without commitment! If your relationship lasts more than a year and at the same time they are “correct” (you allowed the man to “chase you”, met him no more than 2-3 times a week, refused to spend vacations with him, did not move to live with him), then most helped him fall in love with you and want to marry. A man wants to see you more and more. But if, after a year of relationship, the man did not offer to marry him, you should tell him that you are an old-fashioned girl and are not going to meet anyone forever. If he starts making excuses, offer to take a break from the relationship. Ask him to think it over alone and call when he's ready to commit.

Bernard Show

Nevertheless, they saw a collage poster with two options - “Your dinner if you marry Natasha” and “Your dinner if you marry Madina” (I don’t post a photo here, and really everyone saw it so as not to overload the post, but if at least someone has not seen it - then the link is below), as well as a million discussions of it.

All this collage was discussed a hundred times, politicized Russian nationalists on the one hand, libertarians on the other hand, in general, you saw it a hundred times and spoke out.

But I have not seen a single honest commentary on this collage, everything is just nonsense and lies from different sides ... Finally, you need to hear the opinion of just an honest and intelligent independent person, right? So here is me.

Fuck the bald man with Madina, with Natasha. You know as well as I do that women are really, for the most part, extremely bad cooks. Well, it's true. Moreover, I personally never lie and I say this to their faces. In general, I ASK my mother never to cook, especially on holidays (although she loves to do it!), Because I don’t want to sit hungry on a holiday, coming to visit her, it’s better to let her come to us. She has already ceased to be offended even, although at first she was shocked about twenty years ago, when she heard this from me, because there is a stupid and deceitful stamp imposed on society about "the best kitchen is mother's kitchen", therefore it is unexpected to hear such words of the son; thank God - she is a smart woman and understands that I'm just an honest person. Nonsense and nonsense: women's cuisine does not know proportions and is absolutely devoid of either taste in general or harmony.

Finally, all my female acquaintances who have ever told me that "but in general I cook well" - every single one of them cooked either very badly or not at all, they are simply not interested in quality, although maybe I don’t tell them said or said the opposite, because a priori I approach women not as cooks, but everyone in general who asks for a compliment - I will always encourage as a kind person.

My wife already agrees with me that she doesn’t know how to cook and is glad that I ask her not to cook either (well, not counting scrambled eggs, etc.; it can help to cut something, because this is the most tedious in cooking). And in general, I don’t know any exceptions, “an exception with a stretch” is when women’s cooking is not disgusting; but bad or best case on "four with a minus" it is always.

And here in this collage is something that the narrow-minded debaters did not notice and did not understand, because people have lost the habit of thinking honestly. EVEN on this collage - the exact confirmation of my words. Dumplings are usually made by men. Well, someone like, of course, but usually it is historically accepted. And where "Madina" - in general, food from an Uzbek restaurant is depicted, where the cooks are ONLY men, without a single exception.

This is not to say that "don't marry either Natasha or Madina." Just don’t build illusions and don’t get married because of this, wives are not needed for that, but they simply don’t know how to cook, like writing music.

And here is the famous collage itself.

Ah, this wedding, the wedding...

February, Israeli winter. Outside the window, rain, wind, a storm at sea. I am sitting in an armchair, on a small table a glass of brandy, a plate of sliced ​​lemon, a cup of coffee. I don’t feel like reading, I don’t watch TV at all, I look through the archives, I delete something. I discover a ten-year-old congratulatory letter, hand-drawn for the 30th anniversary living together my old friends. Crazy, this year it has been forty years since that momentous event.

I met Gena at the enterprise where I worked as a distribution worker after technical school. He was older than me by a couple of years, we did not become friends, rather good friends. One early working morning, Gena announced that he was getting married.

Gena, why are you so impatient, you're only 21 years old. Really on the fly.
- No, it's just that her mother is in the hospital. she works as a department, and as soon as I am called to the military registration and enlistment office, she puts me in her department for examination.
"And that's why you're getting married?"
- And where to go - either get married or join the army.
- An interesting alignment, okay, you know better. What is required of me?
- I want you to be my witness.
- Gena, don't you need to dance on the square?
- Well, it's hard for you.
- Of course it's difficult, I can't dance.
- There will be no one except relatives, maybe a couple more friends. And the witness will be good, I'll introduce you, you'll like her.

I don't like feasts, I don't like company at all. For me, all the weddings, birthdays and other gatherings of drinking and eating together, which I occasionally got into, always followed the same scenario. If it was not possible to get out and not come at all, then I came last, handed the gift and after sitting for a maximum of half an hour, quietly left in English. So the last thing I wanted was to be a witness at a wedding.
After 40 years, I no longer remember how he managed to persuade me to take this rash step. I remember that he and his fiancee came to my house, they talked with my mother for a long time, found common, if not relatives, then almost relatives. One way or another, I agreed to be a witness at the wedding, with absolutely no idea where it would lead me.

What is a Jewish wedding. This is a gathering of some relatives, friends and acquaintances who are remembered only on very big holidays, and even then not every year. Everyone gathers at the wedding.

But the biggest evil is the toastmaster with his stupid contests and other crap. I took care of them right away. Taking his arm, he smiled and led him aside.

My friend, I hope you know what circumcision is. Do you know? Wonderful. And you avoided this fate as a child. Escaped? Well, here's the weird one. So, if you get me with your shmonkurs contests and other crap like bride kidnapping or drinking out of shoes, then your circumcision to zero will be inevitable, like the victory of communism. And this will happen immediately after the end of the celebration. I hope we understand each other. Smile, smile, you're at a wedding.

Next came the relatives.
- Genochka, you have grown so much, you are already 20 years old, you are quite big. Do you remember how you bit Grandma Dora?
- Grandma, this is not Gena. This is Sasha.
- Where is Gena?
- Here's Gene.
- Genochka, happy birthday, grow big.
- Grandma, this is not a birthday, this is a wedding, Gena is getting married.
- Is Gena getting married? Why is he doing this?

A couple of guests come up to me.
- Look, she's pregnant.
- Who?
- Bride.
I don't know, I didn't care.
The woman pulls his hand
- Fima, what do you care, leave the man behind.
"So why is he getting married if she's not pregnant?" I'm just wondering.

Izya, put down the bottle, you have an ulcer.
- Why can't I drink a little even for the health of the young?
- Drink mineral water for health. Put down the bottle, I told you!

Listen, I have a question for you. Are you a witness here?
- such a witness
- And you will not say, the bride is a Jewess?
- Yes, yes.

Do you know who his parents are?
- Some engineers.
- Poor girl, it will be difficult for her.
- Sofochka, what's wrong here, not everyone works in trade.

In the middle of a wedding, a waiter comes up to me.
- They ask you.
- Who?
- Outside.
I get up and go to the exit. Near the entrance there are five some kind of spy or, as they say now, gopniks.
- I'm listening to.
- So, you don't want us to start a fight and ruin the wedding. In short, bring five bottles of vodka and a hell of a lot of money. You have five minutes.
- Okay, let's decide.
Don't you dare call the cops.
Why, we'll take care of everything.
I go to the hall, I figure, well, I’ll definitely knock out two, maybe three, but there are five of them. The suit may be torn. Yes, and in a suit you can’t get your foot to the muzzle, the trousers can burst, but do I need it? Stop, I saw Bull among the guests.

A small digression.
I knew the bull for a long time, since school. A normal guy, though without brains, but with a cannon strike. At the age of 19 he was a master of sports in heavyweight boxing. I saw him send one pretzel flying. The body flew through the window, shattering the frame.

Girl, I'll take your date for five minutes, do you mind.
- Igor, I need you urgently.
Briefly describe the situation. The bull, without saying a word, quickly goes out, taking off his jacket as he goes. I also take off my jacket.
- No, I'm on my own.
From the porch, I manage to see how Igor quickly approaches the fans of the freebies, they don’t even have time to utter a couple of words, five lightning strikes and five bodies in a deep knockout are resting on the pavement. The whole procedure took no more than three seconds. I stand with my jaw dropped, Igor takes my jacket from my hands.
- Will you figure it out yourself?
- Yes thank you.

Igor goes into the hall. I quickly drag the unconscious bodies into the nearest doorway. At this time, many police patrols go. If they see, then five bottles of vodka will not pay off. But everything ends well. Having carefully laid out the idiots, I also return to the hall.

I pour, I drink to calm my nerves. An hour passes. The waiter comes up again.
- They ask you.
- Who?
- Outside.
- What now?
I look out into the street. Kind of deja vu. There is a holy trinity. The same, two are missing, either they haven’t come to their senses yet, or they decided to leave. One turns a folding knife in his hands. Unfortunately, the Bull disappeared somewhere. Yura fits.
- Sasha, why are you standing here? Did someone offend you? Let's go break it in now. I can't really tell...

Retreat second.
I met Yura quite by accident. He worked near my house in a watch shop. I brought his watch to be repaired, we started talking, it turned out that we had many common acquaintances. Yura is a very good guy, but if he drinks, he will definitely look for someone to fight with. Only his wife can stop him. At that moment, she was a little distracted and Yura went to look for adventures.

Yura did not listen to the end.

Oh, that's right, I'm off.
- Wait, I'm with you.
- Don't go, I'm on my own. Fuck he's brandishing a knife.

I still didn't make it. The blow was strong. The knife flew in one direction, teeth and snot in the other. The rest made their feet. Olya, Yuri's wife, jumped out on the threshold.
- You cannot be left alone for five minutes, march into the hall.
Yura somehow immediately turned sour, even decreased in size and dejectedly trudged after Olya.

Having dragged the body into the already familiar gateway, I also went into the hall. He sat down and gulped down an almost full glass of cognac to calm his nerves. I feel someone's eyes on me. I raise my head, some fat woman, hung with shiny tsackks, is staring at me, as Christmas tree.

Ouch. Look, he drinks like a shoemaker, and I also wanted to introduce our Firochka. Why does she need this alcoholic.

When will this ... wedding be over ...

But everything has a beginning, and everything comes to an end. The wedding dinner is over. The guests disperse. Those who live nearby go on foot, some caught a taxi, most deliver the ordered bus. I went to them too.
I thought another twenty minutes and home. Not that case.

Five or six minutes pass. Again that nasty voice from behind.
- Bora! Will you tell me where we're going? Who's leading the parade here?
- Tsilya! The driver knows where to go, sit still.

I squeeze to the driver and ask him to stop. I jump out into the fresh air. I'll go on foot, at the same time I'll get some air. Half an hour and I'm already at home. Mom watches TV. I quietly walk into my room.

Sasha, how is the wedding? There were a lot of visitors? Have you been introduced to a nice girl?

The answer was a heavy sigh...

With this news, my younger brother came to visit me. We sat in the kitchen together, eating fried potatoes, as in childhood, with forks straight from the pan. Supporting a bunch of crispy slices hanging on a fork with a piece of bread, he, as if casually, suddenly stunned me with the news. Although there should be no surprises in this area, but in order to avoid further misunderstandings, I asked:

And on whom, if not a secret?
- As on whom, on Tanya, of course.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew Tanya well; they had been living with my brother for almost a year, and, according to his stories, they lived well.
- Then congratulations. When?
- Well, we have not yet decided on the date, perhaps in the fall. So start sewing the dress, sis.
- Wait, my dress is the tenth thing here. You better tell me how you live? And why such a hurry?
- No, don't worry, it's not over the top. I just love her and she is the best.
- Just the same ideal? How are Natasha, Olya and Sveta? I sneered.
- Do not be rude, this time everything is serious, the brother was offended. Well, not ideal, of course, but there are no people without flaws, right?
- Well, the words are not a boy, but a husband. Now I'm calm for you.

I thought. He's an idiot, of course. But if I had been smarter, I would not have married at 22 either. But I will not dissuade him, let him make decisions about his life and bear responsibility for them.
- Listen, brother. I won't talk to her. Because if you, the person she loves, does not listen, then his sister will not be an authority for him. And I'm not going to cook. If she wanted to and asked then with pleasure. You can't learn by force.

You have to make her want to, you know? And here I can give you advice.
My brother put down his fork and looked at me carefully.

So do this: go to the market tomorrow and buy fish. Only fish should be river, with scales and not gutted. Carp, for example. Bring it home and ask Tanya to cook it for dinner. If he says that he won’t and doesn’t know how, ask again and then don’t remind me until the evening. When it's dinner time, ask where is the cooked carp? To her reminders that she told you that she will not cook, do not answer anything, but ask her to wait for you at home, and get dressed and go out. If you had a habit of eating ready-made food or semi-finished products, then she will expect you with pizza or dumplings. But bring a surprise with you.
Arrange in advance with some girl to come to visit you and cook dinner. The girl must be young, beautiful and smile at you. It will be very good if the girl is familiar to Tanya. How you will negotiate with her is up to you. So, you bring her home and tell Tanya that, like, dear, if you can't cook dinner for me, then someone else will. And stay there. The reaction, of course, will be stormy and protesting, but don't pay attention to it. Bring the girl into the kitchen and sit and wait until dinner is ready. Remember the main thing, do not get involved in litter and showdown, silently stick to your line. Then have dinner and take the girl home. See off, be sure, not less than an hour. This is important, because the first half hour of absence can save your life, but she needs the second half hour for deep reflection. Well, then take a breath of air and return home. And until the morning, do not remember a word or discuss what happened. The next day, bring her, for example, chicken, and ask her to cook. Well, what will happen next, tell me later.

After such advice, having specified some details, the brother went home with the most resolute intentions and insidious plans. And I began to wait for the results.

A week later, my brother came to visit and began to tell:
- So, as you advised, I bought a carp, asked him to cook, and naturally, for dinner we had only her mocking excuses. I agreed in advance with Natasha Do you remember Natasha, my ex? So, I didn’t even explain the details to her, I only asked her to come to our house and teach Tanya how to cook. Natashka was glad to show her superiority at least in some way, so she volunteered with joy. So, Natasha and I come home, I help her undress and say to Tanya in a calm voice: My joy, since you don’t know how to cook, then Natasha will do it. You should have seen Tanya's face, she couldn't even say anything, she just swallowed air. And when she saw how Natasha put on her apron in a businesslike way and opened the refrigerator, she freaked out, slammed the door and ran away. But you know Tanya, how jealous she is. Ten minutes later she returned, looked into the kitchen, saw an oil painting: Natasha cleans the fish and laughs, and I sit on a stool and persecute her with jokes. Tanya hissed something and locked herself in the room. Well, Natasha continues to cook. When fragrant smells began to seep out of the oven, Tanya returned to the kitchen and in a calm voice asked Natasha to go home, and she needed to talk to me. And I, in the same calm voice, say that since Natasha was preparing dinner, she will have dinner with us, and you, Tanyusha, can arrange the plates and cut the bread for now. And imagine the waters, I'm sitting, outwardly calm and friendly. Satisfied, Natasha takes the fish out of the oven and also comments: You have something, Tanya, the stove has not been cleaned for a long time. I'm lemon juice I clean off the soot with vinegar, it helps a lot, I advise you as a friend, and Tanya already boils with anger, but silently lays out the forks. They all ate together. I praised the carp, Natashka beamed with pride and joy, and Tanya, with a disgusted look, pulled out the bones with a fork. Finally, we ate, and I began to pack. Seeing that I was getting dressed, Tanya threatened that if I went somewhere now, then when I returned, she would no longer be there. And I pretended to think and suggested: Well, if you leave, the dishes will remain unwashed. Maybe then Natasha will stay and help wash the dishes? Tanya changed her face and hissed that no, it was better for him. This is how the evening ended. I came an hour later, as you suggested. Tanya was already asleep. In the morning, of course, she didn't talk to me. I went to the store and brought chicken. True, he took pity on her a little, and bought it without feathers and already gutted. But in the same calm tone he asked her to cook. And you know what?

Well?
- In the evening it turned out that Tanya knows how to make chicken on a jar. So tasty, rubbed with garlic and with a crispy crust. That's it. We did not remind each other about Natashka's visit, and everything went on as before. Only now I eat tasty and satisfying. And believe it or not, even her headaches are gone. Now, as we go to bed, she is so affectionate and sympathetic. Probably, she also realized that if not she, then another would do it with joy. Thanks for the advice, sister.
- Yes, please, - I smiled slyly. - There is only one detail, brother, which I did not tell you about. From now on, when your beloved asks you to drive a nail or turn a light bulb, you will definitely have to do it immediately. Because if you don’t do it, then there will be those who want it too. See that it doesn’t turn out like in that joke, when you wonder who sharpens knives in your house ...