I’ve had guys walk up and grab my hair or start reciting their phone number, I’m getting really fucking sick of it.

Journalists for Human Rights

Amy Asteria 

A couple of months ago, I decided to buy myself a big, fake diamond ring to wear on my ring finger when I was alone in public. This decision, I admit, was equally the product of a dangerous obsession with accessories that sparkle as it was with the desire to deter unwanted attention from strangers. After a series of terrible personal experiences on the TTC, I was convinced I had found a perfect solution – one that would discourage unwanted confrontation while simultaneously satisfying my shameless affinity for diamonds. Awesome.

I looked online, and after days of ridiculous debate over a dozen different styles, finally managed to pick one out. Of course, to ensure it looked as real as possible, I tried reading some of the reviews. The first one I noticed said something like this: “I love this ring! I bought it to wear while away from…

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