“[W]ill find nice sensible boyfriend and stop forming romantic attachments to any of the following: alcoholics, workoholics, sexaholics, commitment-phobics, peeping toms, megalomaniacs, emotional fuckwits, or perverts. Will especially stop fantasizing about a particular person who embodies all these things.”

- Bridget Jones’s Diary

Nearly all women go through some period in their lives when they’re swept up by a bad boy. The football player who has a reputation for ‘playing’ women, an amazing bod, and the mental prowess of Jessica Simpson after smoking a doobie. Even more dangerous is the clever bad boy, a.k.a., Daniel Cleaver of Bridget Jones fame.

Bridget Jones: “So what do you think of the situation in Chechnya? ”
Daniel Cleaver: “I couldn’t give a fuck Jones. Now, why don’t you tell me how you know ‘Marcy Darcy.’”

This bad boy is devastatingly charming, quite easy on the eyes, and can momentarily convince a woman that she is indeed the center of the universe. As such, he knows just how to sweep a woman off for a romantic weekend getaway, yet he still manages to cavort with a naked woman in his flat on Sunday afternoon. More typically, we’ll find him flirting with our very appalled roommate while we finish getting dressed for a night out. Though brokenhearted, most women aren’t surprised to discover the true essence of this bad boy, so why did we end up falling for him in the first place? Perhaps it’s the thrill of doing something we know is bad for us. Think of the forbidden slice of New York Cheesecake that calls to you from the dessert tray, even though the stomach insists it can’t take another bite. Even more painful, yet irresistable, are those horribly expensive Jimmy Choo shoes that are about as comfortable as a bed of needles.

The novelty of the bad boy wears off for most women around the mid-twenties. Our girlfriends get married, and we realize that a bad boy only pushes towards a destiny as the lead character of a Maeve Binchy novel. That’s where Mark Darcy, the nice boy, becomes very attractive to us, because he’s the guy we really want. He will remember what we were wearing on our first date, rather that what we weren’t wearing. Our birthdays and anniversaries result in romantic gifts, and he always opens the door for us. He gives us his coat when it gets chilly outside, and we won’t find him putting the moves on another lady. Defending our honour is something he accepts as a given, and he’ll carry us over a puddle so we don’t muddy up those fabulous Jimmy Choo shoes.

Bridget Jones: “Wait a minute… nice boys don’t kiss like that.”
Mark Darcy: “Oh, yes, they fucking do.”

The genuine nice boy also knows the permissible limits, and he doesn’t take any crap from us. After all, the last thing he wants is to be a good boy in love with a bad girl.

The other darling demystifying divas have so much more to add. For the testosterone-laden perspectives on bad girls, be sure and visit The Wizard, Phin, and Puffy. Zonker has decided to take the week off, as he’s readying his divaesque outfits for the impending blogmeet.

It also appears that Miss Feisty was gracious enough to announce the new members of the Divaesque Ladies and the Red Hat Divas. It appears that we have some honorary male divas? Oh dear.