I’m not an avid reader of Men’s Health magazine. It probably goes without saying that I don’t get much out of articles like “How to Tell if She’s Faking It” and “Sexy Statements That Turn Her On”. However, I love their “Eat This, Not That” feature. If you’re not already familiar with it, “Eat This, Not That,” is probably best known for identifying the most unhealthy foods at popular restaurants and promoting items on the menu that provide healthier alternatives. The “Eat This, Not That” website is full of handy resources, including a guide to the “125 Healthiest Supermarket Foods” and revealing exposés like this warning about the worst drink on the planet and “The 20 Worst Foods in America.”

I like that “Eat This, Not That” takes a realistic approach to cutting fat, calories, sodium, and sugar. The goal isn’t to mangle every meal at McDonald’s or Outback Steakhouse until it fits into a Weight-Watchers-approved point count. The authors just want to make it easier for all of us to eat a bit healthier by making small changes that don’t feel like big sacrifices.

I’m a big junk-food junkie and two of my big loves are Little Debbie Fudge Brownies and Swiss Cake Rolls, but they’re both insanely high in saturated fat. So, a few months ago, I started doing a little snack cake research of my own in the spirit of “Eat This, Not That.” I wanted to find a brownie substitute that wasn’t a rice cake or some other bland diet food that I’d buy and never eat. (I already have an entire shelf of health foods that have survived three moves because I never get desperate enough to eat them, but I’m too cheap to throw them away.) I started with Twinkies, since they’re low in fat by Hostess standards, but they didn’t satisfy my chocolate craving. So, I recently switched to Zingers, which have less than half the fat of Fudge Brownies and Swiss Rolls.

I realize part of this is just a portion control issue, since there’s only one Zinger/Twinkie per pouch, as opposed to Swiss Cake Rolls, which are packaged in twos. I suppose I could limit myself to one Swiss Cake Roll at a time and wrap up the second, orphaned roll for later. However, this would still be worse than eating a single Zinger, which has five grams of fat as opposed to the six in one Swiss Cake Roll.

While I’m happy with Zingers, the Swiss Cake Roll math situation has worn me out. So, I’m pressing onward in search of a sweet, tasty snack that is healthier than anything in the snack-cake category. For now, I’ve settled on Rice Krispy Treats, which have just 2.5 grams of fat and 90 calories. And when a chocolate craving hits, I can have a chocolate and peanut butter version that has just 1 more gram of fat than a plain Rice Krispy Treat. I’m also giving Kudos bars a try, which are a good compromise between a healthier granola bar and something really bad, like a Kit-Kat or a Snickers.

I’m heading out for a haircut tomorrow, which means I’ve been doing my usual pre-cut web search for hot, age appropriate haircuts. A quick Google search led me to coolmenshair.com, which gets points for its straight-to-the-point domain name. Eventually I found a post on Alex Evans Emo Hair, which really made me wish I was still under 25. I thought the second cut shown was particularly great, but I think jet black hair is mandatory to pull this off. Dark brown might also be acceptable, but I’m pretty sure golden blond locks like mine are incompatible with anything that resembles a Pete Wentz ‘do. So, it looks like I’ll probably stick with my current wavy, shaggy cut for now. If I decide to take the plunge, however, it’s great that someone as already made an instructional video for any guy looking for the perfect emo hairstyle.

I’ve struggled with serious acne problems since I was 13. I’ve been on Accutane three times, used prescription creams and gels like Retin-A and Brevoxyl, taken antibiotics like tetracycline and doxycycline, tried nearly every over-the-counter treatment available, and tested infomercial skin-care systems like Proactiv. I credit Accutane for saving me from a lot of nasty scarring and making high school relatively bearable. Unfortunately, it’s a fairly drastic treatment with a lot of potential side effects. Even though I made it through several rounds with little more than chapped lips, I’m reluctant to go back on it just to control what is now a relatively mild acne problem. Plus, now that I’m nearly 28 and fighting a receding hairline, I’d rather not take anything that lists hair loss as a potential side effect. (I know I’m not painting a very flattering mental picture of myself for those of you who have never met me. I assure you I’m quite sexy in person as long as I have my drugs and creams and a wind machine.)

As a guy with problem skin AND the cheapest gay man alive, I’m always on the hunt for cheap, effective skin-care products. That’s why I was thrilled to discover acne.org. In the “store” section of the site, you can purchase an 8 oz. bottle of 2.5% benzoyl peroxide cream for around $16. (No, I’m not getting a commission for this, although I really should be. If you know the guy who runs acne.org, hook a brotha up. I’d gladly accept cash compensation or free pimple cream.) Acne.org also offers cleanser and moisturizer, but I haven’t tried them. The moisturizer doesn’t make Frugal’s “Favorite Things” because it doesn’t have any SPF. Why does this matter? Because mamma is pasty, honey-child, and she hisses like a vampire at those deadly UVA/UVB rays. (I swore when I started this blog that I’d never queen out and refer to myself in the female third-person. I am deeply sorry. I know I have let many of you down.)

I should also note that I’m a bit of a moisturizer polygamist. My cabinet is full of half-empty bottles, and I have a hard time committing to any particular brand. Lately I’ve been using Cetaphil’s Daily Facial Moisturizer, which keeps my milky-white complexion looking supple and lovely. However, I reserve the right to rekindle my love affair with Aveeno at any time. As for the acne.org cleanser, it’s not a bad deal at seven bucks. However, I’ve been using the AcneFree cleanser for a while now. I think it’s pretty similar, the cost is comparable, and it’s available at my local Target.

If ever there was a case against plastic surgery, it has to be this slideshow of ungracefully aging celebrities. If you don’t have the patience to view all 91 photos, you have to at least make it to Lil’ Kim.

I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m a gay man and I rarely spend more than $15 on a haircut. Most of the time, this policy makes sense. I typically have a very simple, short cut that is tough to screw up—even for the beauty-school slackers who wind up working at Hair Cuttery. However, when I started growing out my ‘do several months ago, it became harder and harder to describe what I wanted in terms that my bargain-basement Ukranian stylist could understand. Our conversations began to sound something like this:

Me: “I’m going for a sort of Ashton-Kutcher shag, but more á la Punk’d and less circa That ’70s Show.”

Olga: “Yah, 70s shaggy. I know dis way.”

Me: “Umm, yeah. So, I want some wispy bits here over the ears, but nothing too crazy. We don’t need a Flying Nun situation on our hands. Am I right or am I right? I need layers, but nothing that’s going to get me mistaken for Farah Fawcett.”

Olga: “Yah, shaggy, ok.”

Amazingly, the cut that came out of this conversation wasn’t that bad. But it wasn’t great either. So, for my next cut, I decided to go crazy and spend $35 at the salon near my house. A stylist there had already cut my boyfriend’s hair and he was happy with the results, so I gave her a try. Again, the cut wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t twice as good as Olga’s. I really only had myself to blame for the disappointment. I ignored the warning signs—the sponge-painted faux finish on the walls, the patrons dressed in jean shorts. The signs were all around, warning me that this salon would not provide the hip, urban, shaggy cut I was seeking.

I talked things over with a friend who recommended I visit one of the Sine Qua Non Salons. I called to make an appointment with Ryan and was pleasantly surprised that he had an opening on Sunday (only a few days away). According to the salon’s website, Ryan “excels at shaggy men’s cuts,” and I wholeheartedly agree. My new cut is urban enough to blend in at Urban Outfitters, but not so ratty that someone will ask me to open a fitting room. And at $36 (before tip), the cut barely cost more than the place near my house—and I didn’t have to look at a single pair of jean shorts in the process.

This article is cross-posted at boystowners.com.

When it comes to sunless tanning, I’ve tried it all. I’ve tried Banana Boat lotions and Coppertone sprays. I’ve tried the Neutrogena foam with a gentle hint of color that “shows where it goes” to prevent streaks. I’ve applied it with my own two hands, I’ve traumatized family and friends by forcing them to apply it, and I’ve even tried putting it on with sponge brushes from Home Depot.

A few years ago, my roommate bought me a gift certificate for an airbrush tan—partly because he knew I was too cheap to pay for the service and partly because he was sick of helping me pick blobs of lotion out of my arm hair. The prospect of having someone spray me with a “micro-bead mist” sounded glamorous, so I went to the salon with high hopes. When I arrived, a pudgy, 40-something redhead named Cynthia met me at the door and showed me to my room. Once inside, I stripped down to my underwear, assumed a Vitruvian-Man pose, and prepared to enjoy the sunless tanning secret of the stars.

I won’t say that Cynthia was unprofessional, but I’m quite sure she would have smoked and possibly eaten a meatball sub while applying my tan if it wasn’t prohibited by the county inspector. The end result wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t any better than what I could have done at home for a lot less. This summer, I’ve decided to try a few of the gradual tanning lotions that promise a “subtle, sun-kissed glow.” I’m not big on subtlety, but I should probably accept that there are limits to what sunless tanner can do for me and embrace a more restrained approach. People get suspicious when I leave work on Sunday a shade whiter than mayonnaise and return on Monday somewhere between a sweet-potato-pie orange and a chicken-nuggety brown.

So far, I’ve tried Jergens Natrual Glow for face, which is great. It provides a noticeable (but not unnatural) touch of color. I’ve also been using Neutrogena’s Summer Glow for my arms, which doesn’t stink quite as much as past Neutrogena tanning products I’ve tried. I’ve convinced my significant other to try L’Oreal’s Sublime Glow line, which got great reviews in Consumer Reports. (Yes, I know your grandmother reads that magazine and I don’t care.) He hasn’t seen much difference so far, so I think the lightest shade is too faint. I was also disappointed that the L’Oreal body lotion has “light diffusers,” which are basically tiny pieces of glitter. Unless you’re the kind of queer who likes to keep a tube of cotton-candy-flavored Lip Smackers in your purse at all times, you’ll probably find the sparkly side effects of Sublime Glow to be a negative.

Be sure to leave a comment with any tanning-related wisdom and weigh in on the survey!

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