In the days of yore, women were looked at as meek and mild-mannered creatures, who were taught to always mind their P’s and Q’s. They were always cognizant of who was in their company, and were expected to maintain an image of elegance and grace.

Well, in 2010 that’s been pretty much shot to sh*t.

In today’s egalitarian, post-glass-ceiling, going-dutch-on-first-dates society in which we live, the idea that girls are supposed to be immune to curse words seems a little outdated, right?

I happen to curse a little too freely these days, a fact that my mom so kindly points out to me on a semi-regular basis. But can you really blame me? After four years spent living amongst my peers, with no adults to keep my linguistics in check, I’ve developed an unfortunate habit of dropping an f-bomb or two mid-sentence.

I won’t say that I’m not embarrassed by it: there have definitely been times when I’ve been engaged in casual conversation with a gentleman suitor, dropped a bomb or two, and immediately felt regret. Am I presenting the best version of myself? Is this how I actually speak now or can I be tamed?

I’ve received conflicting reports about the relative attractiveness/unattractiveness of crass women. One friend–let’s call him Philip–said that he was turned off by girls who were overtly crass. “Dudes don’t like that,” he said, ever so eloquently.

But then I asked another amigo–his name is, shall we say, Trevor–and he took the flip-side. He said he didn’t mind a girl who was a bit low brow at times, “because I’m a little low brow most times.” That’s taking egalitarianism to a new level. However, says Trevor, “I think it can get so bad that it would turn me off. But that’d be a level that would turn me off if it were a guy behaving that way.”

I’d hardly call this sampling statistically significant. Yet, it was interesting to see how attitudes toward this topic varied among two guys, who most women would deem “good looking”, who attended the same university and are generally intelligent.

I guess what really matters is how comfortable you feel about your penchant for inappropriate language. The jury’s still out for me. But until I come to a decision, I’ll be primping in the powder room. My hair’s a f*cking mess.