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The Metrosexual
I’m a great fan of buzzwords because they combine two of my favorite things, words and getting buzzed, into one deliciously useless concept that lasts as long as a copy of the Wave in your puppies cage. This month’s buzzword, ‘Metrosexual’, describes those modern men among us who consider themselves to be heterosexual, even though no one else does, due to their profound interest in grooming, fine food and that guy with the ponytail on late night TV who sells exercise machines.
As someone whose fashion sense is permanently stuck on black jeans, striped shirts and Converse sneakers that smell like a cat box, I may not be the best pundit to help you discover your inner ‘Metro’. However, since this is the "How To" issue and I write the "How To" column, and I had to figure out "How To" get paid this month, I’m going to give it a try.
For a start, listen to your woman. When she tells you that your outfit makes you look like a freight hopping hobo, or that your taste in restaurants could be expanded to include someplace other than Arby’s, she’s right. In fact, she’s always right, except when she decided to sleep with you instead of me. Come to think of it, you were probably her second choice, so you’re already skating on thin ice. (If you’re already a Metrosexual then you’re actually rollerblading on thin ice.) When in doubt, defer to your better half and the only thing you’ll find yourself wondering is why all of her friends tolerate you now, whereas before you were known as ‘He-Whose-Apartment-Smells-Like-Dung.’
When dining out remember to chew with your mouth closed. (Your significant other would probably prefer that you speak with your mouth closed as well, for continuity’s sake.) Never order red wine with fish, as it signals to your date that the very thought of oral intercourse makes you want to cry. Talk to her about clothes, shoes, shopping and all of the Metrosexual things that the new you is interested in.
If you know nothing about these feminesque topics, then you might be a regular Joe, the arch nemesis of the Metrosexual. If this is the case, then the next time you’re assaulting a gay person you might want to ask them how they get grass stains out of fake fur or what caliber weapon goes best with ceviche. The time has come to establish a real rapport with those that you’ve been taught to hate and fear, if only to help you to get laid more.
The hard truth is that, since the hit show "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" exploded onto the scene in a hail of hair mousse and after shave, women no longer dig hard living, straight shooting tough guys. Today’s woman, wielding Today’s sponge, craves frosted highlights, Gucci loafers and a bitchin’ manicure. I’ll see you at the spa, sister.
BLAG DAHLIA
The Metrosexual
I’m a great fan of buzzwords because they combine two of my favorite things, words and getting buzzed, into one deliciously useless concept that lasts as long as a copy of the Wave in your puppies cage. This month’s buzzword, ‘Metrosexual’, describes those modern men among us who consider themselves to be heterosexual, even though no one else does, due to their profound interest in grooming, fine food and that guy with the ponytail on late night TV who sells exercise machines.
As someone whose fashion sense is permanently stuck on black jeans, striped shirts and Converse sneakers that smell like a cat box, I may not be the best pundit to help you discover your inner ‘Metro’. However, since this is the "How To" issue and I write the "How To" column, and I had to figure out "How To" get paid this month, I’m going to give it a try.
For a start, listen to your woman. When she tells you that your outfit makes you look like a freight hopping hobo, or that your taste in restaurants could be expanded to include someplace other than Arby’s, she’s right. In fact, she’s always right, except when she decided to sleep with you instead of me. Come to think of it, you were probably her second choice, so you’re already skating on thin ice. (If you’re already a Metrosexual then you’re actually rollerblading on thin ice.) When in doubt, defer to your better half and the only thing you’ll find yourself wondering is why all of her friends tolerate you now, whereas before you were known as ‘He-Whose-Apartment-Smells-Like-Dung.’
When dining out remember to chew with your mouth closed. (Your significant other would probably prefer that you speak with your mouth closed as well, for continuity’s sake.) Never order red wine with fish, as it signals to your date that the very thought of oral intercourse makes you want to cry. Talk to her about clothes, shoes, shopping and all of the Metrosexual things that the new you is interested in.
If you know nothing about these feminesque topics, then you might be a regular Joe, the arch nemesis of the Metrosexual. If this is the case, then the next time you’re assaulting a gay person you might want to ask them how they get grass stains out of fake fur or what caliber weapon goes best with ceviche. The time has come to establish a real rapport with those that you’ve been taught to hate and fear, if only to help you to get laid more.
The hard truth is that, since the hit show "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" exploded onto the scene in a hail of hair mousse and after shave, women no longer dig hard living, straight shooting tough guys. Today’s woman, wielding Today’s sponge, craves frosted highlights, Gucci loafers and a bitchin’ manicure. I’ll see you at the spa, sister.
BLAG DAHLIA
